Auntie Barbara Poem by Kevin Patrick

Softly wicked Auntie Barbara
Made malarkey at all hours
Dodging ribbons of tradition
She was born to ride right off her rocker

Saintly sibyl unruly civil
No man could tame her wild streak
Raising mischief for the devil
She could make a zealous feminist gap and gape

Lifting spirits in her presence
She Molted Cinnamon for Tit and tat
Nothing fazed her of the danger
When life gave her lemons she hit them all splat!


One time when I was but a pug
She sprung her gauntly fingers out
And ushered me with bubbled tongue
That she had spiders “in her hair”
I jumped in fear she laughed with zeal
Then pried me with another peal;
“Don’t worry kev there’s nothing their
They only live inside my big old purse




No Mother Hubbard or Aunt Em
Could hold their liquor with her jive
Tinker tailor and Renaissance lady
Could neatly sing praises to her whole guise


Pretty Matron and Rhodes scholar
Life through curb balls every hole
And though the years were never kinder
She lived every day by the treasure trove


Brews concoctions of dark humor
Making Brothers stomachs grimmer
Though she made the children tremble
They always liked to see always more sooner

Now she’s gone to play with angels
And they’ll never know what hit them
When she’ hoodwinked of all their Halos
Good old Auntie Barbara will always beat the best