Are you afraid of spiders? How do you take your coffee? Do you remember how you felt on the last day of school or eating watermelon as a child? These Poems Need Homes- To Make A Long Story Longer is a compilation of whimsical rhyming poems about life's little idiosyncrasies that everyone can relate to. Some of these poems will transport you back to happy childhood memories, while others will make you appreciate adulthood- all while leading you to a surprise ending. Originally published weekly in the daily newspaper, The Ravalli Republic, this collection of poems spans the second year of the popular poetry column "These Poems Need Homes" As a bonus, six new, previously unpublished poems are included in this entertaining collection. Easy to read and appreciate, These Poems Need Homes- To Make A Long Story Longer, will have you grinning as you eagerly turn each page.
These Poems Need Homes to Make a Long Story Longer
By Dominic "Flominic" FarrenkopfAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2014 Dominic "Flominic" Farrenkopf
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4969-4877-9Contents
Dedication, vii,
Preface, viii,
The Story, ix,
The Intruder, 1,
The Legend Of Letterkenny, 3,
Answering The Call, 6,
The Hunt, 8,
Morning Brew, 10,
Off Limits, 12,
April Snow Showers, 14,
Sweetie Pie, 16,
Chores, 18,
Twice The Love, 20,
Let It In, 22,
Remember Him, 24,
The Apron, 26,
School's Out, 28,
Conner Bridge, 30,
Summer's First, 33,
The Fly, 35,
Fireworks, 37,
She Once Was, 39,
Hot Bed, 41,
Off The Vine, 43,
The Reunion, 45,
Cloudburst, 47,
Cravings, 49,
The Ice Cream Truck, 51,
Dear Diary, 53,
A Good Morning, 55,
Under The Lights, 57,
Out Back, 59,
The Magazine, 61,
A Crisp Morning, 63,
Night Hazards, 65,
Patchwork, 67,
The Witch, 69,
Autumn's Acoustics, 73,
The Cabin, 74,
Out For Pie, 78,
Taking Care, 80,
Bridge Club, 82,
Her Apron, 84,
Friday, 86,
Firewood, 88,
Silver Bells, 90,
Crumbs, 92,
Work Ethic, 94,
The Squinter, 96,
The Writer, 98,
The White Stuff, 100,
Move It, 102,
The Big Game, 104,
Cold Snap, 106,
All's Fair, 108,
The Truth, 110,
The Rings, 112,
The Shoveler, 114,
Bonus Poems,
Pitch Black, 118,
Metrical Composition, 119,
Wishes, 120,
Fingers Crossed, 121,
The Happy Hippie, 122,
CHAPTER 1
March 9, 2013
The Intruder
It was three a.m.
kitty jumped on my head.
I pulled back the blanket
and crawled out of bed.
I stumbled through the dark
to open the door
when I saw a shadow
cross the hallway floor.
Chills climbed my spine
I broke into a cold sweat.
Did I lock the front door
or did I forget?
To drum up some courage
I reached deep inside.
I moved towards the hall
where I thought he could hide.
Slowly and stealthily
towards the hall I crept
as I approached-
into the bathroom he leapt.
I forced bravery
as I turned on the light.
I paled like a ghost
at the fearsome sight.
He was a giant
standing by the shower!
I began to tremble,
shiver and cower.
His flinty eyes
were black as polished steel.
Just before he pounced,
I let out a squeal.
My wife bounded from bed
and into the fray.
For the night intruder-
this wasn't his day.
He backed up, crouched low
and prepared to bite her.
My wife took her slipper ...
and smashed that spider!
March 16, 2013
I wanted to do a St. Patrick's Day poem, so I did a little research and found the name of this town in Ireland. Everything else is fictional ... or is it?
The Legend Of Letterkenny
The legend of Letterkenny
began long ago
on Ireland's north shore
where the wild shamrocks grow.
Strange things were happening
all over the quaint farmland.
Jack Campbell's prize dairy cows
had gone dry as quicksand.
Tom Flynn's brown laying hens
would only go out at night
while James O'Callaghan's sheep
bunched together with fright.
The Lower Thompson Road
was washed out in a flash flood
and Marie Kennedy's washing
was thrown in the mud.
The town gathered Sunday morn
beneath the church steeple.
They knew they were cursed
by one of the Little People.
Kyle Brennan suggested
that the town set a trap.
He'd read some folklore
on how to be rid of the chap.
They'd need seven gold pieces,
an aged barrel of scotch
and a pouch of tobacco-
it had to be top notch.
The gold and tobacco
were to be put in a sack-
a bag that held barley stalks,
potatoes and horse tack.
The book of folklore said
the bloke would empty the keg
then crawl inside and fall asleep
in the barley bag.
It was decided by all
if Pat Quinn made the nab
they'd pool their resources
and pay off his pub tab.
With six pints inside him
Quinn was brazen as a bull.
He made the snatch and ran off
with the frightening troll.
Patrick, the happy town lush
was never again seen,
but on his Saint's Day ...
Letterkenny's beer all turns green!
March 23, 2013
Answering The Call
Early Monday morning
Frank's off to the shop.
His beeper sounds,
he doesn't have time to stop.
Working on the tranny
of a Land Rover,
his beeper goes off
and his boss takes over.
At Jim's clinic
it's a bright Tuesday morning.
His beeper sounds
and he's gone without warning.
His patient schedules
for later in the day.
But his...
