Humorous and funny Crown Of Sonnets poems and/or funny poems about Crown Of Sonnets. Read, share, and enjoy these hilarious Crown Of Sonnets funny poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems or see our other Crown Of Sonnets Poems.
funny, love, sad,
I've never kissed a pig with my eyes closed
Nor have I ever held a hand of time
However, there was once when I proposed
But that was back when I was in my prime
I still recall how much she loved to dance
She'd laugh at me and make my face turn red
She taught me all the secrets of romance
That love was what one did, not what one said
I search the shadows for her purple hue
I take her mem'ry everywhere I go
Its smile has it's own special shade of blue
Its taste so sweet no one could ever know
They tell me only time mends broken hearts
I wonder just how long before it starts.
by Daniel Turner
If only I could make my way to Paris
To search the boulevards and rainy rues
I'd look to find my lonely heart an heiress
An Irish lass vacationing her muse
We'd find a quiet cafe' on the Seine
Where we could sit and share a laugh or two
By candlelight we'd toast with French champagne
Pretend that we were on our honeymoon
But how could I convince her I'm the one
To make all of her fantasies come true
She knows there's more to life than having fun
In Paris hearts get easily confused
I'd get down on one knee under the stars
Give her the paper ring off my cigar
an original poem by Daniel Turner
funny, humor, humorous, poetry, poets, wisdom, writing,
How high the bar that makes a poet Real!
(He walks in mists, and shadows of himself)
To be a poet, is to burn with steel
Set short time in the forge, the lesser self!
He brands his heart with fiery words, set down
And burns his mind with thinking, ‘til it glows,
He hopes, of sonnets, his will be the Crown,
And hopes that all the brilliance of light, shows!
But, oftener, he writes a humble piece,
A few words cramped into a simple form,
But somehow, in his feelings, a release!
Yes, humble-bumble often is the norm.
And that high bar, he reaches seldom, and
Leaves barefoot footprints in the fruity sand.
crush, funny love, humorous, teacher,
As I look back, it all seems funny now
Recalling all those awkward teen age years
I pushed the limits farther than allowed
Supposedly when young, we had no fears
Infatuation caught me with the blues
My heart was swollen by love's gentle sting
It was a crush that only left a bruise
Left by the diamond in her wedding ring
The first day I laid eyes on her, I fell
The lightning bolt she was, that shook my world
And to this day I swear I'd know her smell
Could she have read my mind, she'd likely hurled
I hated school but never missed her class
She said she loved me 'cause I made her laugh
original poem by Daniel Turner
Dear Fridge, you’re getting up in years. Oh, my!
How many now? You must be twenty-five!
The dishwasher already I’ve seen die.
How ever have YOU managed to survive?
Sir Oven also is a hanger-on,
But rarely do I spend my time with HIM!
I use his stove sometimes to cook upon.
Too bad you kitchen things can’t keep me slim!
You never rest! I open up your door.
The produce you’ve been keeping fresh I see;
The cheeses, breads, and butter, even more:
Cold casseroles and pizza tempting me!
I do not clean you often. That is mean!
I ought to prize more my appliance queen.
The white charger's belly is bloated with hay
The helmet helm's rusted quite shut
The tack room door hinges are tearing away
The leather's un oiled and dry
The lance is still good
It is bracing the fence
but I traded the sword for a pen
I am presently seeking a page
So if you're still waiting
A Lochinvar ending of sorts
I shall purchase wild oats for the horse
I recall how to sow them of course
With hardly a shred of remorse
Eight decades and a half "young" is my mom.
Nine years and half a century am I.
How quickly I have aged gives me a qualm,
but one good thing - I now CAN'T multiply!
And right behind my mom I'm following. . .
The white hairs keep appearing; it's with dread
I picture myself one day swallowing
my food with dentures stuck inside my head!
Mom always was athletic till her knees
gave out. . . so walking fast she does no more.
But luckily, she has no grave disease.
I think she just too often scrubbed the floor!
Well, I don't "stoop" to drudgery. Knock wood!
At least my knees might possibly stay good.
For the Humorous Poetry Contest of Thomas Martin
childhood, funny, nature
When I was a young boy,
I built a castle on the beach.
I made it from sand with my shovel-toy,
Then the waves grabbed it in their reach.
They tore my castle down,
And dragged it down into the sea.
So i took my shovel and, with a frown,
Built another castle quickly.
I built it bigger and stronger
Than the ones in the past.
I thought this one would last longer,
But its walls would no longer last.
I built a moat around the last one that day,
But the waves seemed desperate to wash them all away.
child, childhood, family, humorous, sympathy, teacher, child, school, child, school,
Why does a child have to go to school?
Why do we have to spend so much time working?
This seems simply cruel.
Isn't it just irking?
Some people say school is important for learning
Couldn't a child learn on their own?
It would cause much less yearning,
After all, we can learn from our phones.
I can somewhat see a parents point in sending their child to school.
But why would you choose what we wear?
It just allows us to look like fools,
We may as well come to school bear.
As you can see school is not fair,
So please don’t force us to go if you care.
family, funny, Grandson,
I know a scamp who chortles frabjously
as in the springtime galumphing he goes.
And just to show how wacky he can be,
he makes his tongue point up to touch his nose!
He has no wicked claws or eyes with flame
to match those of the manxome Jabberwock.
But just beware his jaws. Although he’s tame,
he can’t be stopped once he begins to talk!
I vouch that he can jabber endlessly
and have me at the end of my short rope.
My ears just might fall off one day, for he
gyres gibberish just like a gyroscope.
I dub my beamish grandson “Jabberwack”
for how he acts and how he loves to yak!
For Debbie Guzzi's "Go Ask Alice" Contest
animal, best friend, dog, humorous, love, pets, thanks,
Your dad, a Dachshund once stuck in Chihuahua.
The best of both in you, with that expectant
Confusing carpets for the lawn enigma.
I know….the raining….getting wet….you can’t.
As coldness chills the room, a sheet for you.
The perfect tucking of in, but you moved!
I ponder, just how crazy is my Boo?
The sheet’s thread count too low to be approved?
Your dance in circles, spinning on the floor.
Rewards and treasures known upon the racks.
Induced by meals and that one pantry door.
In such a fury, choking on the snacks.
I know what God’s book says, I’ve searched it whole.
But still, I hope you have a little soul.
funny, girlfriend-boyfriend, love, parody, passion, teen,
My darling enigma, my dove
You’re the epitome of my love
Your smile shines at me pearly white
Pale skin shines and glints in the light
Silken locks, obsidian flow
Eyes just like ice, crystalline glow
Peals of laughter ring like a bell
Enchant me; I’m under your spell
You walk with a musical flow
Tiptoeing with softness through snow
But, alas, you open your mouth
Utter tripe spilling out
If only you’d keep your mouth shut.
(Love from Anonymous)
funny, girlfriend-boyfriend, happiness, health, lost love, love, mother, parody, romance, satire, sorry,
Shall I compare thee to your mother's ****?
Thou aren’t more lovely, but more flatulent.
Rough winds do shake it; and bring on a farce
And all her clothes hath all too short a rent
Sometime too hot-headed of hell doth burn,
And often is the true nature exposed;
And every foul from fowl; my stomach churns,
By reason, or by nature's raging closed.
But thy infernal diet shall ne’er start
Nor gain possession of which now I grasp;
Nor shall we meet again; let’s stay apart,
When in eternal sounds the voice does rasp,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can cry,
So long lives this, and I bid thee goodbye.
christmas, funny, holiday,
For anyone struggling in the holiday season!!
Although there's nothing much that I could add
to all the Christmas wishes ever made,
I'll wish for you that traffic won't be bad
the day you shop and that you may get paid
some kind of Christmas bonus for a change,
and when beneath the mistletoe you stand,
I hope you're not approached by someone strange,
but rather by a stranger who is grand!
And should you be so childish (I mean bold)
to ice skate on a lake or board the snow,
I pray for you that you don't catch a cold
or break a leg as down some hill you go.
My wishes, like my gifts, are kind of cheap;
May faith in them require no giant leap!
Oh, how I loved my little teddy bear
although I don’t recall from whom he came
or when I first laid eyes on him or where;
I only know I chose for him his name.
Yes, Pinky Winky’s name was like my own,
a playful silly nickname “Andy Pandy,”
and also in his ear a bell was sewn;
I jingled him and thought he was quite dandy.
Everywhere with me went Pinky Winky
until he met sad fate with one cruel splash.
He fell into the toilet and got stinky.
I wailed when Mother threw him in the trash.
Alas! The pink imposter in his place
no jingling made nor had dear “Winky’s” face.
appreciation, death of a friend, humor,
There were no tears of sorrow when she passed
No suffering or pain, a quiet death
Though many questioned just how long she'd last
Few noticed when she took her final breath
So many photographs and memories
With family and friends while she was here
She shared her time and warmth so willingly
Forever will we hold her days so dear
Though she has passed we will continue on
There will be many gloomy days ahead
Some days her memory will flash at dawn
And some nights when we crawl into our bed
For now let's raise our glass at summer's wake
Cause soon it will be autumn's leaves we'll rake
original poem by Daniel Turner
Oh buzz off you crazy crazy hornet
Trying to land here upon my buttock,
Here I am eating my crispy cornet
Lazing naked in my garden hammock.
Tried to coax it with my berry ice cream
But alas it seems unprepared or blind,
Dancing upon an invisible beam
Homing in on me with a one track mind.
Could it be I’ve enhanced the essence air
With a gross wind to further relieve me,
Or is this a mock symphony of flair
Of a Britain’s got talent “Bumble Bee?”
His “The classical flight” winning first prize
In pain my swelling one hell of a size!
© Harry J Horsman 2015
An idiom by which she's always stuck
is 'having one's head buried in a book'
The truth behind it, she was unprepared
that morning as she went to climb the stairs.
Stopping to lift a bottle, bad mistake
especially when one isn't quite awake
her balance gone, could not control herself
now plunging headlong into the book shelf.
Bruised head, bruised knees,bruised pride was quite enough,
thankfully, make-up would disguise the scuffs.
But then she only went and made it worse
by saying that it would make a good verse.
Hopefully next time she will be wiser
and not tell me, but tell 'Trip Advisor'
29th August 2016
With love, Connie, from Viv x
Was that mark on my skin there yesterday?
There is no way for me to remember
A tattoo my shoulder did once display
Seemed to have disappeared last December
Now a red blemish is atop my hand
It resembles an octopus with wings
In bizarre motions it flaps when I stand
Fear to my heart this gruesome creature brings
But the octopus does not fly alone
There are centipedes, spiders and the like
Each day these ugly markings seem to clone
Apparently I’m no longer a tyke
If you need a tattoo, I’ve some to spare
More vivid they are as I lose my hair
*Written September 14, 2016 for Sara’s contest
dedication, devotion, faith, funny, inspirational, introspection, life, mystery, parody, people
I am looking right at you and you don’t even know it.
I will deter your intent and throw you off a steep cliff.
But in the air will be my snuff and gruff you can sniff.
Eventually I will have some sort of mercy of just a bit.
Surely we are above empowering manners of tat for tit.
Maybe I’ll light a scented candle and blow you my whiff.
Or maybe I will strand you grounding your bones to stiff.
Opposed or decomposed and still composed I won’t quit.
Inside or out,
I’ll throw down.
I am the clout.
Don’t mistake my identity,
Either or, it’s your eternity.
® Registered: Ann Rich 2009
bird, humor, sleep,
Awakened before dawn, I gasped for breath
A sound of dark foreboding breaks the still
Outside, the unrelenting, "song of death"
That soul collector, singing, " whip-poor-will"
Before twilight, he lands high in the pine
His feathers tan and brown, his neck plumes white
In repetitious cries that chill the spine
He calls lost souls to him before first light
And though no souls may come, he sings his song
So maddening, it makes the weary weep
His tax upon the living until dawn
The only payment he accepts is sleep
I hope the morning finds him a new tree
Someplace, far, far away, from sleeping me
Any poem contest
abuse, addiction, allegory, death, funny, metaphor, water,
The river dragon of crimson streams
Swiftly swimming to bring my end
As I’m standing alone at the silent shore
The beast from this murk suddenly ascends.
Gripping my face in her flawless jaws
The teeth latched efficiently into flesh
Pulling me quickly into the depths
Dragging me into the shallow grave.
Surrounded in filth, drowning in the banks
The apex predator’s grip never relenting
All I can do is break, bleed and decompose
Hoping for some relief in the pending death.
I find some comfort in this prolonged pain,
Because I haven’t felt a thing in ages.
funny, jobs, work,
“Thank you for calling….”
Is what’s trained to be said
But when they get irate and lewd
I feel like hanging up instead.
This person’s always right, that person’s never wrong.
Mr boss sir, your breath is oh so strong!
they’re mean and crass, just downright rude
I might just be naughty and get the big boss sued.
I give picture perfect smiles,
the really artificial Kind
Welcome and please come again,
you just died ten times in my mind
Just got off the last call and I don’t mean to be crude
But goodbye till tomorrow, the next complaint I’ll elude
A Collaboration With Stephanie Allen/Niketa McKenzie/Sean Solomon
humor, word play,
A Sonnet On It
It comes and goes on idle vagrant winds
hitching rides in briar like dependence
under pressure its aimless trek will bend
for it is not concerned with making sense.
So does it guard its anonymity
its preference - stay lost amid the stir
sought after for its ambiguity
as evil lout or ever faithful cur.
However, it may change with careful groom
take on an aura larger then its self
become the centerpiece of crowded room
festooned with all the trappings of its wealth.
Coyly fan itself beneath its bonnet
listening as others read its sonnet.
submitted to – Pen A Sonnet On It – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Janis Thompson
Hitch-hiking on the road of yellow bricks
I took a chance upon a passing whim
It ferried me where thins grow out from thickes
Turns out, I found myself out on a limb
Imagine, on a limb and at my age
How could I get my feet back on the ground
My first instinct was fly into a rage
A brainstorm came, then all my anger drowned
Yet this was not my first time on a limb
Fact is, I've shinnied down more than a few
These days, instead of taking it so grim
I've learned to sit and just enjoy the view
If you're caught on a limb by some mistake
The bright side is, the damned thing didn't break
by Daniel Turner