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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn  10/1/2014 5:19:36 PM
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Hallowmas Eve

He stood erect, still and silent
like a wax museum figure
in an inconspicuous nook
hidden in nocturnal darkness.
His long, needlelike canines gleamed
in the moons ebbing subdued light.
Blood red fleshy folds encompassed
these parasitic instruments.
Two grand, black, membranous wings hung
close to his sides, down to his feet.
On a sudden, voices were heard
Trick-or-treaters were approaching,
nearing his ambush location.
With anxious anticipation
his webbed wings began to quiver.
Albert Ahearn



Happy Thanksgiving

It's time for Tom to lose his wattled head.
He's designated martyr for the feast.
We pluck him naked and stuff him with bread
Then roast his hapless carcass whole or pieced.
We carve, dismember, separate his flesh
and pile it high upon a festive plate.
Oh, Butterball you juicy thing, so fresh
and tasty, every bite is simply great.
Although we never heard him gobble
without a head he cannot demonstrate.
A turkeys future cannot be squabbled
his life is brief and predetermined fate.
Without a turkey there's no misgiving
there would not be a Happy Thanksgiving.
Albert Ahearn



Happy Valentines Day

This poem is dedicated to my loving wife.

Our hearts adjoined some ages past
In the summertime of our lives.
Oh! How swiftly the time has passed
Yet your lasting beauty belies
Those years that etched your comely face.
But now we reached life’s wintertime
Together still with arms embraced
And kiss each favorite valentine
For all those loving grateful years.
Happy Valentines Day my love
You are the one I hold most dear.
At times I feel unworthy of
But this I say and know it’s true:
My life is nothing without you.
Albert Ahearn



Hard times

I didn't have much as a kid;
Oh, we were always fed and clad.
but for luxuries, God forbid!
Two-bits a week was all I had.
Fifteen cents spent on a movie
The remaining ten bought candy
Even that wasn't guaranteed.
Picking a landfill was handy
When money wasn't to be had
I'd pick the dump for tin and rags
And head for the junkyard with dad
Carrying the days find in bags.
Although a youth I recognized
the wounded pride in daddy's eyes.
Albert Ahearn
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BEST POEMS:  (Click on a topic to list and read the poems)
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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn