The worries on his mind were more,
than he’d ever worried before.
He was afraid he’d have to beg,
For his back was out, and so was his leg.
He fell from a stilt
so his house wasn’t built
but that wasn’t the worst thing at all.
Since his house wasn’t built,
‘cause he fell from a stilt,
he lived with his mother-in-law.
She fought and she fussed,
she yelled and she cussed.
He knew he could not stand much more.
(more…)Fred Fatfellow was not fat.
He was a skinny kid.
For it was fact with a name like that,
run was what he did.
He ducked into the music hall,
and the bullies didn’t know.
All that they could do was call,
for the bullies were all slow.
Fred Fatfellow heard and sat,
toward string music he soon turned.
Said, “I can make a sound like that,
While thoughts in his head burned.
They’d called him a scaredy cat,
because he’d turned and run.
Fred Fatfellow wasn’t that.
He was up with the sun.
He thought of revenge, it’s true,
as he walked back to the hall.
He didn’t know just what he’d do,
but he knew he’d show them all.
(more…)The WordPress Discover prompt is “three” so I wrote three haiku about my day.
(more…)I’ve picked today to post a poem for you,
since WordPress Discover’s prompt is “new.”
I don’t always do just what I’ve been told
so I wrote this new poem about something old.
(more…)This poem filled with pairs proved easy to write,
after I saw what I saw last night.
I watched a dad sit down in a chair,
and hold his two daughters, who sat with him there.
One of the girls held onto a book,
but dad opened it up and all three took a look.
It wasn’t just any old story or fable,
On that pair of pages, laid flat on a table.
This wasn’t a tale of planes or a park,
but the story of Noah, and a boat called an ark.
There were on those pages a few things to find,
Among all of the animals, two of a kind.
A hammer, a saw, a ruler for size,
all spied by the gazes from three pairs of eyes.
They found everything on the floating zoo,
which the animals boarded, two by two.
I know all of those pairs surely caused some congestion,
but still — I can’t help it — I have a question.
Answer me this, or I’ll never know,
why did this guy show blueprints to a hippo?
When the story was finished, goodnights were said,
then mom and dad put the children to bed.
When it comes to kids, that pair surely wins,
For they have a young son, and their daughters are twins.
A man whom a life of crime did harden,
Formed a plan to grow crops in his garden.
A woman sought to foil it
So she sat on a toilet,
Then she cleaned herself up with his pardon.
On the first day of February, 2017, a new game was invented.
After I read a coworker’s haiku, I said, “I bet if you give me one word, I can make a poem out of it.”
Thus, the game was born.
Recently, in what I took to be a challenge, I was given the word “kumquat.”
So I wrote the following poem called “The old card trick.” (more…)
I am a teller of visions and dreams.
Sometimes what you see means more than it seems.
