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Free Daily Poems - Free Daily Poetry


Poetry and poems are present across different cultures and languages. Poetry and Poems are often difficult to categorise. Many poems have hidden meanings and yet some people are happy to enjoy the "surface reading" of poems. Whatever your views on poetry and poems I hope you enjoy this site. The site comprises over 8000 poems exhibiting a collection of free poems, odes, verses and sonnets ranging across the spectrum of themes from Funny poems and Love poems to War poems and Sad poems, including Mothers day poems and Wedding poetry. Should you wish to contribute your own poetry, poetry from friends or even famous poems that you have enjoyed by other poetry writers then please register and contribute.

Below you will find a completely random free poem from our free poems collection that will change each time you load the page. The random free poem of the day and random poet of the day will, unsurprisingly, change each day.


RANDOM FREE POEM OF THE MOMENT.

Poem title:  A change of menu
   
Poem category:  Humerous/ Funny Poems
   
Poets name:  Andrew Barton (Banjo) Paterson
   
Poet Biography:  A B Paterson (also known as Banjo)1864-1941 was an Australian poet born to Scottish parents.
   
Poem:  Now the new chum loaded his three-nought-three,
It's a small-bore gun, but his hopes were big.
"I am fed to the teeth with old ewe," said he,
"And I might be able to shoot a pig."
And he trusted more to his nose than ear
To give him warning when pigs were near.

Out of his lair in the lignum dark.
Where the wild duck nests and the bilbie digs,
With a whoof and a snort and a kind of bark
There rose the father of all the pigs:
And a tiger would have walked wide of him
As he stropped his tusks on a leaning limb.

Then the new chum's three-nought-three gave tongue
Like a popgun fired in an opera bouffe:
But a pig that was old when the world was young
Is near as possible bullet-proof.
(The more you shoot him the less he dies,
Unless you catch him between the eyes.)

So the new chum saw it was up to him
To become extinct if he stopped to shoot;
So he made a leap for a gidgee limb
While the tusker narrowly missed his boot.
Then he found a fork, where he swayed in air
As he gripped the boughs like a native bear.

The pig sat silent and gaunt and grim
To wait and wait till his foe should fall:
For night and day were the same to him,
And home was any old place at all.
"I must wait," said he, "till this sportsman drops;
I could use his boots for a pair of strops."

The crows that watch from the distant blue
Came down to see what it all might mean;
An eaglehawk and a cockatoo
Bestowed their patronage on the scene.
Till a far-off boundary rider said
"I must have a look




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