Archive for December, 2012

Poem: St Nick Stuck

Merry Christmas!  This is my dog Lexie sitting next to my Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

Merry Christmas!
This is my dog Lexie sitting next to my Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

St Nick Stuck

There is an old man named St Nick.

Whose middle has become quite thick.

Down the flue he drops.

Then suddenly stops.

Eat too many cookies you’ll stick.

June Nash

If Santa got stuck in your chimney last night, be a sport and help him out so he can finish his deliveries.

Merry Christmas to All!

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12/25/2012 at 6:20 AM 2 comments

Poem: Beat Your Children

Beat Your Children

Beat your children every day.

Lessons learned will surely stay.

They must learn to try their best

Try to out perform the rest.

If won’t beat them, what is taught?

Success without effort brought?

To master life, must work hard,

Stay alert, be on ones guard.

In the morn, if child is slow,

Challenge them in race to show

Excelling can be fun game.

In beating them there’s no shame.

Beat your kids, but not with belt.

Good examples better felt.

Beat your child from time to time.

This sort of thrashing’s not a crime.

June Nash

12/18/2012 at 6:55 AM Leave a comment

Poem about The Lack of Ambition To Get A Job

NOT THE JOB FOR ME

It’s not that I don’t want to work,

But don’t like to slave for a jerk.

The tasks are dreary

And make me weary.

So from all things not fun I’ll shirk.

 –

Mental work is the chore I choose.

At a desk, scratch my head and muse.

Never broke a sweat

At exertion yet.

Exceptions to this won’t peruse.

 –

Dirty jobs are not tasks for me.

Must be something better you see.

As long as can live

Off what other’s give,

I’ll sit back, relax, watch TV.

June Nash

I don’t know what prompted me to write this poem.  Maybe it is because I occasionally run across people who seem to have this attitude.

Is this a commonplace attitude in our society?

12/11/2012 at 6:04 AM Leave a comment

Poem: Birthday Wish

Birthday Wish

 –

My special friend is sixty three.

A year, times three, older than me.

In years he is old,

But like youth lives bold,

As a child, through life, he runs free.

 –

This man he is not an old fart,

Though oft, early mornings, can’t start.

Give him cup of joe,

Then off he will go,

To adventures, following heart.

 –

My special friend is sixty three.

In spirit much younger than me.

Works hard to keep fit,

Both body and wit.

Happy Birthday mon cher ami!

June Nash

12/04/2012 at 6:16 AM 2 comments


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Copyright notice

Original poetry. Copyright 2012, June Nash

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