Book Of Poems and Short Stories

By Bobby Newman

This book is a composite of poems written by a young romantic teenage boy and by a longtime senior citizen--both of which just happens to be me. Also included in the content are several short stories, some of which are in poetic form. Enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9781662485947

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Book Of Poems and Short Stories

Bobby Newman

Copyright © 2022 Bobby Newman

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-6624-8591-6 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-8594-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Poems

Poem Writing

Each Sweet Kiss

The Bank Robber

Charity and Love

The Haunted House

Skipping School

Christmas

The Lord's Got a List

Alliteration

Slim Jim

The Bluff

Lazy, Lazy You

The Weird, Weird Goose

The Termite Luncheon

An Angel from Above

Three Wishes

Sweet Words

Sweet Vidalias

Happy Birthday

To My Savior I Will Sing

A Dog Named Jeff

The Lonesome Wolf

Precious Donna Kay

My Darling—I Pray

I Dream Only of You

I Love Her

I'll Think of You and Not the Storm

The Battle Field (Thoughts One Might Have)

A Day with a Dreamer

I Got to Write a Song

Playing Blackjack

The Battlefield of Love

Spring

A Faithful Friend

Short Stories

The Final Chapter?

The Dynamite Days

Short Story Poems

My Big Damn Fish

Grandpa Was a Mountain Man

The Class of '58 Is Great

A Menu for You

Ode to the Class of '58

Our Savior's Birth

The Last Supper

About the Author

To Donna, my high school sweetheart and my wife of more than sixty years. She inspired and still inspires the mushy love poems contained in these writings.

Poems

Poem Writing

Writing a poem

can be such great fun;

that is my friend

if you write only one.

But if you have it in mind

to write one hundred or more;

you know not poor boy

what for you is in store;

and neither do I,

for only three have I made

and none too good,

I am sorely afraid.

But I'll keep on writing

until I reach my mark

or like Shakespeare I'll write;

until at graveside I park.

November 30, 1957

Listed as no. 4

Each Sweet Kiss

If I could kiss your lips

a million times each night—

those sweet lips that I adore,

I still would want to hold you tight

and multiply each sweet kiss

by a hundred million more.

For when your lips are pressed to mine

my heart is filled with

such a heavenly bliss

and the feeling I have

becomes more and more divine

with each sweet, love-filled kiss.

It seems like God's creation;

that moment of such bliss—

that moment of expectation

and then that long sweet kiss.

So sweet is the temptation

that, no one should ever miss.

So great is the elation; with,

just the thought of each sweet kiss.

Each kiss speaks loudly and

long and true of charity;

without the slightest word

and each speech of such sincerity

in true love is always heard.

Even now, each sweet kiss—

Each seal of love,

Brings me more to realize;

That it's you that,

my heart is dreaming of

and with you my happiness lies.

September 24, 1958

Revised 2009

The Bank Robber

I knew a bank robber

once upon a time. But

he didn't have a nickel

and he didn't have a dime.

I said, how is it

that you have no money?

He said, my friend

now this may sound funny—

it's not exactly or entirely

all my fault;

it's just that darn,

newfangled vault!

They're makin' bank vaults

out of steel these days;

they're burglar proof

in a thousand ways, and

if you've got your money

in a new lockbox;

it's just as safe

as if in Fort Knox!

Well, an old hairpin

used to serve as a key;

but, now it takes

a case of TNT—

That TNT

gives me a fright

oh man, that stuff

is dynamite!

Well, I said how come

you're not in jail?

Then he yelled at me

with an awful wail;

he laid right down

and he threw a fit and

said, I ain't never, ever

robbed a bank yet!

He said, I've got a job

planned for tonight

and I'll be rich

if everything goes right!

Well, I warned him then

sayin' don't you try

or you'll be in jail

in the by and by.

But he didn't heed

my warning and

he showed no fear.

So I saw him

the next morning—

I guess,

you know where!

He was sittin' in jail

feelin' mighty sad,

a little bewildered, and

a little bit mad.

I asked him what happened

and what went wrong?

Because I was tryin' hard

to end this song!

Well, he wouldn't say much

or tell much of a yarn;

all he would say is—

that doggone piggy bank

was made of iron!

Pig Iron!—The End

October 20, 1957

Revised 2009

Listed as song no. 5

Charity and Love

Love is companionship;

companionship—love.

Charity is more,

and riseth above.

Charity is action,

with love combined;

true and steadfast—

far from confined.

As love increases;

so charity grows—

its glorious fullness

only God knows.

Sweet love, sweet charity;

I'll ask them of you.

If you can't give me both;

then either will do.

For love leads to charity

and charity to love;

and both are blessed

by the good Lord above.

December 17, 1957

Revised slightly 2009

The Haunted House

Did you ever spend a night

in a haunted house

with nothing for company

but a little gray mouse;

with the screamin' and the hollerin'

and the rattle of a chain—

it's enough to make anyone

go insane!

That haunted house

so fearful by day;

so horrid at night;

even the ghosts won't stay.

I dare you, my friend,

to spend just one night there;

for there was never a dream

worse than this living nightmare.

I know, my friend;

it's the truth I speak

and though I am now old

and tattered and weak—

I once was young and strong

and possessed great pride

until that horrible night

I was dared to spend there inside.

I laughed at that dare

(ha, ha—ha, ha—ha, ha)

but I laugh no more

as I think back

to that unspeakable horror

and I wish those things

I had not seen

which, killed my hunger

and made me lean—

which whitened my hair

and deadened my brain

and as you now have guessed

drove me totally insane!

(ha, ha—ha, ha)

Unspeakable, yes! But

I must tell more;

I must speak on

of that unspeakable horror!

Yes, I must speak on

as though being compelled;

that none of my story

to you be withheld.

So I must confess

to a phobia

and soon you'll see

that it's one not totally

unique just to me?

For in that house

on that horrible night;

there in the darkness

and in the dim light;

I saw the most frightening

and scariest monster of all

as he hurried and scurried

up and down that great hall

and I shall relate this just once

and never ever say twice—

that, I am deathly afraid

of little gray mice!

(ha ha ha—ha ha—ha ha)

Written on November 27, 1957, as a Halloween comedy skit—with weird laughs added at some of the pauses. Added to and revised in 2008.

Skipping School

Johnny is a mean boy,

as mean as he can be.

Skipping school is his great joy;

but he got caught you see.

Now at noon, there's study hall,

that's where he spends his time.

covered by a stack of papers tall.

Now how's that for a rhyme?

He had to make a speech today,

its theme was skipping school.