Youre here: Home » Funny Poems » Funny Narrative Poems » THAT GENTLE MAN FROM BOSTON TOWN


   » Animal (34)

   » Banter (80)

   » Bathos (17)

   » Burlesque (58)

   » Cynicism (22)

   » Epigrams (29)

   » Immortal Stanzas (14)

   » Juniors (17)

   » Love & Courtship (23)

   » Narrative (64)

   » Nonsense (46)

   » Parody (62)

   » Satire (88)

   » Tribute (16)

   » Whimsical (83)

   » Women (77)

Category: Funny Narrative Poems
       Classic humorous and funny story poems. Narrative poems are written accounts of connected events in poetry format.


Two webfoot brothers loved a fair
    Young lady, rich and good to see;
And oh, her black abundant hair!
    And oh, her wondrous witchery!
Her father kept a cattle farm,
These brothers kept her safe from harm:

From harm of cattle on the hill;
    From thick-necked bulls loud bellowing
The livelong morning, loud and shrill,
    And lashing sides like anything;
From roaring bulls that tossed the sand
And pawed the lilies from the land.

There came a third young man. He came
    From far and famous Boston town.
He was not handsome, was not "game,"
    But he could "cook a goose" as brown
As any man that set foot on
The sunlit shores of Oregon.

This Boston man he taught the school,
    Taught gentleness and love alway,
Said love and kindness, as a rule,
    Would ultimately "make it pay."
He was so gentle, kind, that he
Could make a noun and verb agree.

So when one day the brothers grew
    All jealous and did strip to fight,
He gently stood between the two,
    And meekly told them 'twas not right.
"I have a higher, better plan,"
Outspake this gentle Boston man.

"My plan is this: Forget this fray
    About that lily hand of hers;
Go take your guns and hunt all day
    High up yon lofty hill of firs,
And while you hunt, my loving doves,
Why, I will learn which one she loves."

The brothers sat the windy hill,
    Their hair shone yellow, like spun gold,
Their rifles crossed their laps, but still
    They sat and sighed and shook with cold.
Their hearts lay bleeding far below;
Above them gleamed white peaks of snow.

Their hounds lay couching, slim and neat;
    A spotted circle in the grass.
The valley lay beneath their feet;
    They heard the wide-winged eagles pass.
The eagles cleft the clouds above;
Yet what could they but sigh and love?

"If I could die," the elder sighed,
    "My dear young brother here might wed."
"Oh, would to Heaven I had died!"
    The younger sighed, with bended head.
Then each looked each full in the face
And each sprang up and stood in place.

"If I could die,"--the elder spake,--
    "Die by your hand, the world would say
'Twas accident;--and for her sake,
    Dear brother, be it so, I pray."
"Not that!" the younger nobly said;
Then tossed his gun and turned his head.

And fifty paces back he paced!
    And as he paced he drew the ball;
Then sudden stopped and wheeled and faced
    His brother to the death and fall!
Two shots rang wild upon the air!
But lo! the two stood harmless there!

An eagle poised high in the air;
    Far, far below the bellowing
Of bullocks ceased, and everywhere
    Vast silence sat all questioning.
The spotted hounds ran circling round
Their red, wet noses to the ground.

And now each brother came to know
    That each had drawn the deadly ball;
And for that fair girl far below
    Had sought in vain to silent fall.
And then the two did gladly "shake,"
And thus the elder bravely spake:

"Now let us run right hastily
    And tell the kind schoolmaster all!
Yea! yea! and if she choose not me,
    But all on you her favors fall,
This valiant scene, till all life ends,
Dear brother, binds us best of friends."

The hounds sped down, a spotted line,
    The bulls in tall, abundant grass,
Shook back their horns from bloom and vine,
    And trumpeted to see them pass--
They loved so good, they loved so true,
These brothers scarce knew what to do.

They sought the kind schoolmaster out
    As swift as sweeps the light of morn;
They could but love, they could not doubt
    This man so gentle, "in a horn,"
They cried, "Now whose the lily hand--
That lady's of this webfoot land?"

They bowed before that big-nosed man,
    That long-nosed man from Boston town;
They talked as only lovers can,
    They talked, but he could only frown;
And still they talked, and still they plead;
It was as pleading with the dead.

At last this Boston man did speak--
    "Her father has a thousand ceows,
An hundred bulls, all fat and sleek;
    He also had this ample heouse."
The brothers' eyes stuck out thereat,
So far you might have hung your hat.

"I liked the looks of this big heouse--
    My lovely boys, won't you come in?
Her father has a thousand ceows,
    He also had a heap of tin.
The guirl? Oh yes, the guirl, you see--
The guirl, just neow she married me."

                                            Joaquin Miller.

Previous Funny Narrative Poem | Funny Narrative Poems Index | Next Funny Narrative Poem

Email this funny poem to a friend

Privacy Policy
Copyright © 1999-2008 All rights reserved.