Your regular dose of versified humor
by our Poet in Deference:

Bob Wombacher Jr.

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Bob Wombacher, Jr., originally from Proctor, Minnesota, has lived in Page, Arizona for over a quarter of a century. A divorced father of three grown sons, Bob owns a business (Bashful Bob's Motel) in Page, near Lake Powell. He is a prolific writer of humorous poetry, and much of his work can be seen on his poetry website.

He admits to fudging a bit when it comes to finding ideas for his rhymes: "I've been collecting jokes ever since I was a teenager," says Bob. "My library of funny, little stories provides me with endless situations that lend themselves to becoming the raw material of which poems can be constructed." Bob thinks that rhyme and meter are important components of poetry, especially that composed in a humorous vein.

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Chilly Billy

I saved my son from an icy fate.
While sad to see him shiver,
I'm thankful I could extricate
Him from that frozen river.
"How did you come to fall in, lad?"
(Was this the work of Satan?)
"I didn't come to fall in, Dad.
I came to do some skatin'!"

 


 

Square One

My wife made me a millionaire.
My fortune's changed a-plenty.
Before her, though, how did I fare?
A million bucks times twenty.
Yes, on my way to "billionaire,"
'Twas not for me to thank her.
Now that I'm back to millionaire,
I'll find another banker!