Robert Winthrop Poems

When we were kids and sent to bed
When dusk had barely passed,
My brother Tom and I would play
A game, "I Touched You Last."
...

Are aprons passé? There may still be a few
That say 'Kiss the Cook' when men barbecue.
For Gram they were vital; they saved her good dress
When cooking and cleaning or clearing a mess.
...

I just saw in the paper that a friend of mine had died;
I had not seen him for some time, but still I nearly cried.
I thought of days when we were kids and every summer's day
I'd go and ask his mother if he could come out and play.
...

I had a friend who lost a leg
While in the war in France,
And with this loss he also lost
The chance to run and dance.
...

When I was newly married and adjusting to the life,
I went to see my mother and complained about my wife.
I wasn't kind then to my wife I really must confess.
Her cooking wasn't up to par; she left the sink a mess.
...

When I was six and in first grade,
We found a house complete
With yard and fields and great big trees,
A house on Pleasant Street.
...

One night when I was safe in bed,
I counted many sheep,
But any means which I employed
Would not bring dreams or sleep.
...

I give you these poorly wrapped gifts
And hope that you will find something about them to like.
These gifts that cost a few dollars
But can never equal the value of
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(If you grew up in Hannibal, you knew Marge, the friendly waitress at the Maid-Rite drive-in. Suffering from ill health, Marge jumped from the bridge and perished in the Mississippi.)

A cigarette, a sailor hat,
A whispered 'Goodbye, Hon.'
...

My uncle was a patron of the bars up on North Main;
He also thought he knew a lot about our dear Mark Twain.
He'd sit upon his bar stool and recite from Mark Twain's books.
He wasn't fazed when tourists there would give him dirty looks.
...