I wrote these a few years ago. I had decided to make homemade Christmas Crackers that year and instead of those cheesy jokes found inside most Christmas Crackers, I wrote some poems.
I wrote this one for my son and included it in his cracker and added one of his much smaller and much desired Christmas presents.
Although most of these poems were written for a particular person and are personal, you are very welcome to adapt them for your own use completely FREE.
My growing son is now nine
How fast it goes. . . . the time
An independent little man
Wanting to do all he can
From the babe in arms, I held so tight
Not sleeping all through the night
First words, first steps and on to School
My clever son, he is no fool
He writes, he reads, a spelling bee
And maths he loves beyond his years
And sport, it’s football he loves best
An Arsenal fan, just like the rest
At playing football, he gives his all
Highest goalscorer, with that ball
The next nine years will be so tough
The teenage years could be rough
The change in voice, the shaving water
Not wanting to do what he outta
Eating me out of house and home
Clothes and shoes constantly outgrown
Girlfriends! Oh no, What dread
Stop! These thoughts going round my head!
For all he’s achieved and for all there’s to come
I am so proud of my wonderful son
We love him so, our days he fills
We’ll make it through the thrills and spills
And as he grows and makes his way
We will be there, each and every day
I’ve said before and I’ll say it again
Treat us, like two very good friends
We will always try to do our best
To help, guide and support you through the rest
You are such a pleasure and a joy
My wonderful, loving nine year old boy.
This one I wrote for my Mum, a very special lady with whom I have a very special relationship.
She had this in her Cracker with her Christmas Present, the one she had been silently puzzling over for the last few hours.
I have this person in my life
She’s always there
In good and strife
She supports me in all I do
supports my man and family too
Whenever things get a little sticky
And all to be done is proving tricky
She offers help, “I’ll be here or there.”
“I can help”, “I’ll do my share.”
I accept this help, I take with ease
Always very grateful, pleased.
Because of this I do see
Sometimes taken for granted is she
But it’s never meant to be blaze
I never mean to get carried away
So Mum, I write this to you
Thank you so much for all you do,
The thoughts and care we receive daily
The time and effort you give so freely
We hope you enjoy your Christmas here
And wish you health and happiness for the years
And just one more thing before we have lunch
We love you Mum (Nan) so very much.
For my then Fiance, he'd proposed and I had said Yes!
He wasn't expecting an engagement ring but he got one.
This accompanied the ring.
With this ring I promise to wed
Never truer words are said,
For all you are
and all you do.
I will stay forever true
You complete me in every way
You keep me happy every day
For all that has happened
and all that may
Believe in me and never stray
We’ll have our good times
and we’ll have our bad.
But despite everything we’ll always be glad
That we found each other
and completed our life
Soon we will be Husband and Wife x
My Brother turned 40, so I wrote this mammoth of a rhyme for him,
depicting his life so far to date . . .
I think he liked it . . . .
Metamorphosis to 40
As per a definition quoted
40 years of changes noted.
In character and also in appearance
All of this recorded with endearment
From beautiful baby, blonde and cute.
to middle aged man, bald as a coot.
The change was gradual, the changes slow
Some were good, some had to go!
A very pretty little fella,
As Aunties wedding pictures tell ya
Not enjoying cubs at all
But little sister takes the fall
Dead arms, dead legs and tea towel flicks
Gives little Simon his daily kicks.
One day sliding down banks of grass.
He very nearly cuts his arse!
A hospital trip is thus needing
A few stitches to stem the bleeding.
Building Go Karts, another pleasure
Something that filled his leisure
Down the garages, down the lane
To get up and do it all again.
Train spotting from Hatfield Station!
Cycling to Hertford to see a relation.
Very much an academic younger man
He studies hard, learns all he can
Flies through school, at Maths he’s top
Living in his room, but stop!
Is it homework he’s actually doing there?
Or another Arsenal picture I fear
As Simon got the Howard’s way
And follows Arsenal come what may.
At Hatfield School he still excels
Still studies hard, does not rebel
His love of sport is discovered here.
Football, Squash and Cricket become dear.
He plays hard, plays to be top.
The desire to win will never stop.
In teenage years the changes so weird-
The breaking voice, the growing beard.
Wearing glasses, spotty and shy.
Not Simon’s best time of life (Can’t think why!)
Not a fighter, but when pushed, move out.
Don’t get in the way of a Simon clout.
He broke his knuckles on some guys face!
Something on him MUST have been moved out of place!
Always blue, the clothes you wore
Navy, Sky, Pale but blue, what a bore!
We moved to Wales, it changed you so much
Giving you an endearing touch
We became closer and as such
We stopped fighting quite so much.
In sport, always trying to outdo
That darned competitive streak within you
You went in for a tackle, a hard one at that
Half the village heard the crack!
From the local village football field
To hospital technology to rebuild
From top to toe the plaster was cast
Plate and pins inserted, built to last.
On two wooden crutches getting around was restricted.
The walk to the bus stop, help was enlisted.
Up steep hill, down steep hill, my muscles grew fast.
An extra heavy school bag to carry, how long will this last!
And just when we thought all was close knit
You went out to a party and went arse over tit
The path was all wet, the rubber won’t stick
No lights on the path, you felt like a P * * * K!
Back to the hospital, off with cast
Can they rebuild you again? We all ask?
They did, and so you enter your brief acting career.
In a dress, as a king, on a stage, acting queer!
Finally when all was healed and completed
The bone was strong, no longer depleted.
The cast came off, my sentence had ended
Glad that finally your leg was all mended.
Armed with a cast and your pins in a jar.
You came home with a leg you could smell from afar.
Pale and puny and covered with cheese
It looked it might break again with only a sneeze.
On to the driving lessons, never missed
Even when Mum and Dad were pissed!
As usual you learnt with extreme ease
Passing first time. . . . Oh wasn’t he pleased
Taxi driver became your new role
Ferrying sis around became your goal
Down the pub you’d take me around
Even when socialising with your friends in town
Girlfriends next, a new dimension
Lucy, there’s a name I’d like to mention
Pretty brunette, she had a gift
Big up top, if you get my drift.
Out of school with A levels, well done
And on to Uni, should be fun
It wasn’t for you, it wasn’t to last
Back home you came, home quite fast.
Hunting became a hobby then
to find yourself a job. But when?
You wanted independence, you wanted fair weather
As Mum & Dad made it clear, “We can’t keep you forever.”
Fourbouys became your first employer
Travelling as a training stocktaker
But you decide enough when one dark night
You get up from your sleep to count the house lights.
At this point the change in your style became clear
The colours, the prints, the ties.... oh dear
My big brother is no longer so shy.
Coloured prints & patterns he’ll now buy.
He bought his first car, the seller sold it quite quick
They were quite happy, it smelt of stale sick.
The taxi would take me here and there at my leisure
But travelling in this car was not quite a pleasure.
The upgrade from first car to second-quite belated
but Simon’s love of sports cars now was created.
An X-19 was his second plaything
With it hitting a badger on his nearside wing.
Simon meets a girl and in love he falls
Jayne the 1st, a mortgage calls.
For Mum and Dad are forced to move on
Simon and Jayne settle down in Clevedon.
Before they moved in, they made plans to wed
I felt I was losing my brother, great tears I shed.
They were happy for a while, but you know how things go
The cracks in the marriage started to show
Jayne moved back to Daddy, Simon stayed there
Enjoying TRW by now, that seemed only fair.
We worried, we fretted, but Simon insisted
Life in the West Country was fully digested.
Now as life at work began to move forward
Simon worked hard, his salary went upward
Nice cars, a nice home not bad a this rate
Annual pilgrimage to Florida for golf with a mate
Now, not suggesting that Simons a tart
But to be fair he did play his part.
Thingy, some neighbours, Jennifer to name but a few
And then there was Nicola, Wife No 2.
Getting married in Jamaica, not the right thing to do
The marriage lasted more than 1 year, but not two.
Now they say third time lucky, and I hope this is true
I don’t mean in marriage, but in life share, I DO!
Another big move took Simon elsewhere
From the sunny West Country to green Staffordshire
To a beautiful family and real full time life
Life is good as it is no need for a wife.
As Jayne is very loving and giving
Priority in her life is a life full of living
Two wonderful children, growing and finding their way
And Jake, Alex loves and could see every day.
The baby they share, is one on four legs
Blonde beautiful Gracie, who sits up and begs,
Now maybe he’s not as cash rich as times by
But in life there are some things that money can’t buy
Being happy and healthy and being content
Bring much more happiness than money well spent.
So as you have read, the changes are known
Some things have stayed you, others have flown
The good things in life, your deep love of winning
The glasses, the spots and the hair that was thinning
Are among but a few things listed in rhyme.
Happy 40th Old Git. Have a wonderful time.
I hope I’ve succeeded in brief summary
To capture the metamorphosis of Simon at 40
We will be thinking of you more on this special day
Enjoy, have fun, relax and make hay
Take stock of your life, and live for your leisure
As you say, why do anything that does not bring you pleasure?