Uncles Poems - Poems For Uncle

Oh, never let on to your own true love
That ever you drank a drop;
That ever you played in a two-up school
Or slept in a sly-grog shop;
That ever a bad girl nursed you round -
That ever you sank so low.
But she pulled you through, and it's only you
And your old mate Harry know.
"Billy the Link" they called you then,
And it makes me sad to think
Of the strenuous days when it took three cops
And a pimp to couple the Link.
"Mister Linkhurst" they call you now,
And your kitchen garden grows;
And no one knows in your family,
But your Uncle Harry knows.
Oh, never let on to your fair young bride
How a "straight" girl stabbed your heart
With a devilish wire to the Western side
Where we were a world apart.
With pick and shovel you fought it out
Where the red sirocco blows;
And no one knew in the gang save you -
But your old mate Harry knows.
Oh, never let on to your own good wife,
For a tender heart has she,
Of the girl that loved and the girl that lies
In the graveyard there by the sea!
'Twas not for his "manners" she loved the cad,
'Twas not for his verse or prose,
But the pity she felt for the country lad -
And your Uncle Harry knows.
The bad girl went where the bad girls go
And I see her dark eyes yet;
The good girl left me her broken heart,
But I trow that their souls have met.
The cry of the heart we send not forth
On every wind that blows;
You are hiding a sorrow from someone now -
But your Uncle Harry knows.

Uncle Josef strides proudly amongst our weeping fathers
his uniform crisp, his medals aglow
whistling Wagner on his way to work
whilst off to the chimney they go
Uncle Josef's riding crop snaps to attention
links oder rechts to the prisoners show
the white-teeth dogs bark and bite at their heels
whilst off to the chimney they go
Uncle Josef points the women to the showers
their sad march forms a path thru the snow
but his showers don't have any running water
off to the chimney they go
Once, during an outbreak of typhus among the Gypsies
Uncle Josef had no mercy to bestow
so don't get sick and do what you're told or it's
off to the chimney you go
Doctor Josef's hands are red with Friedrich's blood
his twin looks away as his brother moans low
Josef kisses the dead boy's hand
off to the chimney they go
"Dig me a pit and set it ablaze, " Uncle Josef orders
"then into the pit the children throw
"don't you fail me in this task, there's
"no room in the chimney, you know."
Uncle Josef flees as the Reds advance
to deliver Berlin her final blow
he gathers all manner of damning papers
and off to the chimney they go
Uncle Josef drowns off the coast of Brazil
and i wonder if, as his pulse slows,
he sees our ghosts floating in the cold waters
whilst off to the Chimney he goes
Uncle Josef's lifeless body drifts
in water cruel as evil's art;
the flame of justice fiercer still
than any flames that sear the heart

His face seemed to sag -
after the stroke.
He'd been a real stunner too,
a Cary Grant look-alike
with dark fizzy curls
Brillcreamed
into corrugated order.
'He was the only one of us
I saw mother cuddle'
mum used to say.
But 'something happened'
at boarding school
and he 'went quiet'
and ran away.
Joined the navy
during the war.
Married his 'Jeanie
with the Light Brown Hair'
who drank and smoked
at bright parties
where Tissie sang
and charmed.
A handsome couple -
they loved
and hated
each other
in equal measure.
After the stroke
he grew happier somehow.
Enjoyed his disability pension
and made furniture
with his good arm.
Turned many a stick of old cedar
into a chest of drawers.
Never sang again though...
He was well into his eighties
when he died.
Took his secret with him.

"White folks is white," says uncle Jim;
"A platitude," I sneer;
And then I tell him so is milk,
And the froth upon his beer.
His heart walled up with bitterness,
He smokes his pungent pipe,
And nods at me as if to say,
"Young fool, you'll soon be ripe!"
I have a friend who eats his heart
Always with grief of mine,
Who drinks my joy as tipplers drain
Deep goblets filled with wine.
I wonder why here at his side,
Face-in-the-grass with him,
My mind should stray the Grecian urn
To muse on uncle Jim.

DERE was an old nigger, and him name was Uncle Tom,
And him tale was rather slow;
Me try to read de whole, but me only read some,
Because me found it no go.
Den hang up de auther Mrs. Stowe,
And kick de volume wid your toe-
And dere's no more public for poor Uncle Tom,
He am gone whar de trunk-lining go.
Him tale dribbles on and on widout a break,
Till you hab no eyes for to see;
When I reached Chapter 4 I had got a headache,
So I had to let Chapter 4 be.
Den hang up, etc.
De demand one fine morning for Uncle Tom died,
De tears down Mrs. Stowe's face ran like rain;
For she knew berry well, now dey'd laid him on de shelf,
Dat she'd neber get a publisher again.
Den hang up, etc.

One day Uncle Indan wiped the dirt
off his right foot with the left foot
then off the left foot with the right foot
then off the right foot with the left foot
then off the left foot with the right foot
off the right with the left
off the left with the right
off the ...

Source: Poemhunter
https://www.poemhunter.com/

You are the best, Uncle dear,
Loving and kind, through the year.
You cook my favorite meals,
Telling me stories that give me thrills.

Your counsel and guidance, Uncle,
Has helped me in life's jungle.
You always show the right path,
And motivated me to excel in every task.

Your silly jokes always give a chuckle,
Uncle, you are one of a kind uncle.
With wacky ideas and funky style,
You always make us laugh and smile.

Memories of our times together, Uncle,
Stay fresh forever in my mind's circle.
From childhood games to family trips,
You are my favorite companion, my hero of the script.

Medium Poems

Uncle Jack, oh Uncle Jack,
With his jokes and jolly knack,
Always ready for some fun,
He brightens up our day, every one.

With his tales from long ago,
And how things used to be, you know,
We all listen with rapt attention,
As he weaves his magic, without apprehension.

His laughter ringing through the air,
Makes us forget all our cares,
And we know deep down inside,
With Uncle Jack, we always abide.

So here's to Uncle Jack, our dear,
With his heart full of love, clear,
May his life be long and happy,
And may we always be, oh so lucky.

Uncle Sam and his stern ways,
Always making sure, in all pays,
That everything is just so,
And nothing is allowed to go.

With his serious tone and straight face,
He'll tell us what not to do in any case,
We may grumble and even groan,
But we know he's just looking out for his own.

His knowledge and wisdom vast,
And his love and care unmatched,
We all look up to him with deep respect,
And we know that with him, we are always set.

So raise your glass to Uncle Sam,
Our stern but loving patriarchal man,
May he live a long and fruitful life,
Guiding us all through happiness and strife.

Long Poems

In olden days, it was uncles who ruled,
Guiding the younger with love, they schooled.
They were confidants, advisors, and friends,
Lending an ear when life's journey bends.

Their stories were filled with grand adventures,
Solving puzzles, and fashioning new ventures.
The lessons they taught were far-reaching,
Their words of wisdom, always teaching.

Uncles were strong, silent pillars of strength,
Encouraging their nieces and nephews at length.
They taught honesty and the value of hard work,
Sharing knowledge, they didn't ever shirk.

Uncles would show kindness in quiet ways,
Celebrating accomplishments with joyful praise.
They provided a listening ear when it was needed,
Their love never once, left unheeded.

They shared beliefs that would impact our life,
The legacy left, devoid of any strife.
Uncles would speak with gentle authenticity,
Their words would ring through generations with authority.

In a world where uncles hold a special place,
Their impact on our lives, hard to replace.
They live on in our memories and hearts,
In our deepest thoughts and highest arts.

Our uncles, the giants of our youth,
Had a love that was both strong and true.
Their wisdom we will never forget,
Their lessons we will never regret.

Oh, he's not the kind of uncle who's always dressed so fine,
No, he's the one who shows up in his ragged jeans and worn-out line.
His hair's a wild mess, and his beard's all overgrown,
Yet, there's a twinkle in his eye that makes him seem right at home.

He's the kind of uncle who'll take you on a wild ride,
Climbing mountains, swimming rivers, and exploring countryside.
He never plans anything, just goes wherever the wind blows,
And somehow, every adventure with him is full of highs and lows.

He has a story for everything, and he'll tell it with such zest,
You'll be hanging on every word as he recounts his past conquests.
He's been to places you can only imagine in your dreams,
And his tales will fire up your imagination, it seems.

He'll teach you to fish, to hunt, and to build a fire,
To make your way through the wilderness, and to never ever tire.
He's an expert in survival, and he knows the tricks of the trade,
And he'll never let you forget that real adventures are never made.

He'll sing you silly songs on the guitar by the fire,
Or play some old records and get you moving to the beat under the wire.
He'll dance with you until your feet are sore,
And you'll be laughing so hard you'll never want him to let go.

He's a man of simple pleasures, and he takes life as it comes,
Never fretting about what's next, and never letting himself succumb.
He's got a heart full of love, and he'll give it all to you,
And you'll feel blessed beyond measure for the times you spent with this true unkapmted Uncle.

For he's not just a relative, but a friend, a mentor, and more,
The kind of uncle who stays with you forevermore.