I recommend a siesta each day
I recommend a squirrel you can teach
I recommend fresh fruit
on your hat as you stroll
with your cat on the sandy white beach
I recommend a sunny guest bedroom
I recommend whipped cream on your pie
I recommend you remember
each word to your favorite song
as you fly through the sky
I recommend a week without homework
I recommend a birthday each year
I recommend you find
a rare coin as you walk
with a friend to the end of the pier
I recommend a hot dog with mustard
I recommend a strong cup of tea
I recommend a breeze
through your hair as you float
in your boat on the warm azure sea
22 April 2007
22 April 2007
10 April 2007
It's True
Hey you,
It’s true,
You’re stepping on my shoe
But a needle in a haystack wouldn’t know quite what to do
So I went there with my sister, but she didn’t have a clue
And now we're through,
It's true,
That’s what it’s coming to
Hey you,
It’s true,
You spilled the sticky glue
But the farmer in the dell would say he likes your new hairdo
So I traded the piano for a cow called Apple Sue
And now we're through,
it's true,
That’s what it’s coming to
Hey you,
It’s true,
There’s something in the stew
But counting all the sheep is simply not the thing to do
So I doubled every recipe to make them all come true
And now we’re through,
It's true,
That’s what it’s coming to
Hey you,
Yeah you,
It’s really, really true
We’re through
It’s true
It’s you I’m talking to
7 April 2007
It’s true,
You’re stepping on my shoe
But a needle in a haystack wouldn’t know quite what to do
So I went there with my sister, but she didn’t have a clue
And now we're through,
It's true,
That’s what it’s coming to
Hey you,
It’s true,
You spilled the sticky glue
But the farmer in the dell would say he likes your new hairdo
So I traded the piano for a cow called Apple Sue
And now we're through,
it's true,
That’s what it’s coming to
Hey you,
It’s true,
There’s something in the stew
But counting all the sheep is simply not the thing to do
So I doubled every recipe to make them all come true
And now we’re through,
It's true,
That’s what it’s coming to
Hey you,
Yeah you,
It’s really, really true
We’re through
It’s true
It’s you I’m talking to
7 April 2007
09 March 2007
Go
Go run your hand through
the pine trees, my boy
Go pour the sea through your toes
Go smell the breath of
the desert oasis
Or make a friend of a rose
Take several stars from
the nighttime sky
And let them explode in your hand
Go taste the moon before
it grows up
And then you will understand
5 March 2007
the pine trees, my boy
Go pour the sea through your toes
Go smell the breath of
the desert oasis
Or make a friend of a rose
Take several stars from
the nighttime sky
And let them explode in your hand
Go taste the moon before
it grows up
And then you will understand
5 March 2007
Radio Conversation
Seven Blue Dog Truth
This is Silver Shoehorn Pete
We’ve got a sixty seven on an apple pie
Three potatoes and a pound of meat
We’re gonna need you to joker your fiddle
Get your big cookie out over the soap
Call us back if you get a rare pickle
Tied up into your kitchen rope
Silver Shoehorn Pete
This is Seven Blue Dog Truth
I read you on the apple pie
We’re over at the car bird booth
We’ll use a kilo of the birdy gear
To round up all the six and seven
Check back in at cold tomato
Half past a peacock to eleven
Seven Blue Dog Truth
This is Silver Shoehorn Pete
Thanks. We read you like a drumstick
Over, out, and dirty seat
3 March 2007
This is Silver Shoehorn Pete
We’ve got a sixty seven on an apple pie
Three potatoes and a pound of meat
We’re gonna need you to joker your fiddle
Get your big cookie out over the soap
Call us back if you get a rare pickle
Tied up into your kitchen rope
Silver Shoehorn Pete
This is Seven Blue Dog Truth
I read you on the apple pie
We’re over at the car bird booth
We’ll use a kilo of the birdy gear
To round up all the six and seven
Check back in at cold tomato
Half past a peacock to eleven
Seven Blue Dog Truth
This is Silver Shoehorn Pete
Thanks. We read you like a drumstick
Over, out, and dirty seat
3 March 2007
03 March 2007
Your Colors
All of your colors are up to you
No one can make your green or your blue
If your orange looks more like your red
You must work it all out in your head
All of your colors are up to you
Purple and white, yellow and blue
You must choose how each one will look
You won’t find the answers in any old book
Don’t ask your friends to help you out
They don’t know what your colors are about
You have to put each one in its place
Just there on the wall or all over your face
All of your colors are up to you
Maybe your green will become your blue
Maybe your black will just fly away
Maybe your blue will become your gray
You are in charge of the colors you’ve got
So throw them all, if you like, in a pot
Stir them all up into one lovely brown
And paint everything all over your town
3 March 2007
No one can make your green or your blue
If your orange looks more like your red
You must work it all out in your head
All of your colors are up to you
Purple and white, yellow and blue
You must choose how each one will look
You won’t find the answers in any old book
Don’t ask your friends to help you out
They don’t know what your colors are about
You have to put each one in its place
Just there on the wall or all over your face
All of your colors are up to you
Maybe your green will become your blue
Maybe your black will just fly away
Maybe your blue will become your gray
You are in charge of the colors you’ve got
So throw them all, if you like, in a pot
Stir them all up into one lovely brown
And paint everything all over your town
3 March 2007
03 February 2007
The Nanny and Someone Else
Oh the butler wakes the castle up
by banging pots and pans
And the cook makes all the curtains
with her swift and bony hands
But the nanny didn’t notice
when the princess ripped her dress
She was down upon the floor a-cleaning
someone else’s mess
Oh the cobbler plays the fiddle
or he doesn’t play at all
And the gardener dances as he plants
the daisies for the ball
But the nanny wasn’t watching
when the prince fell off his chair
She was tying purple ribbons up
in someone else’s hair
Oh the knight in shining armor cries
whenever he is sad
And the pageboy picks his nose
which makes the blacksmith really mad
But the nanny wasn’t looking
when the kitten drank the cream
She was staring out the window
lost in someone else’s dream
14 Dec. 2006
by banging pots and pans
And the cook makes all the curtains
with her swift and bony hands
But the nanny didn’t notice
when the princess ripped her dress
She was down upon the floor a-cleaning
someone else’s mess
Oh the cobbler plays the fiddle
or he doesn’t play at all
And the gardener dances as he plants
the daisies for the ball
But the nanny wasn’t watching
when the prince fell off his chair
She was tying purple ribbons up
in someone else’s hair
Oh the knight in shining armor cries
whenever he is sad
And the pageboy picks his nose
which makes the blacksmith really mad
But the nanny wasn’t looking
when the kitten drank the cream
She was staring out the window
lost in someone else’s dream
14 Dec. 2006
Twenty
One’s a story
Twos are three
Four is boring
Five is free
Six is cake and Seven’s hungry
Eight ate through the parlor door
Nine is not some lonely nothing
No, it’s much much very more
Ten’s a treasure
Eleven sits
Wearing Nine’s old oven mitts
Twelve is late
But Thirteen’s here
And fourteen brings us Easter cheer
Fifteen’s jealous of Eleven
Sixteen stole Four’s tasty bread
Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, and Twenty
Went and slept in Seven’s bed
24 July 2006
Twos are three
Four is boring
Five is free
Six is cake and Seven’s hungry
Eight ate through the parlor door
Nine is not some lonely nothing
No, it’s much much very more
Ten’s a treasure
Eleven sits
Wearing Nine’s old oven mitts
Twelve is late
But Thirteen’s here
And fourteen brings us Easter cheer
Fifteen’s jealous of Eleven
Sixteen stole Four’s tasty bread
Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, and Twenty
Went and slept in Seven’s bed
24 July 2006
23 January 2007
Half Your Lollipop
In days of long forgotten lore
I felt your gravy on my door
When once we scrambled down the shore
And blue was still the color green
And you were all my starry queen
And had we plenty doing for
I placed a boat upon your sea
You dusted off the toast from me
So we sat down to sip our tea
And you were cake upon my table
And when I wasn’t you were able
And many had us doing be
You worked until the night was done
Like silver from a rubber gun
You kissed the moon which shamed the sun
And peaches grew out of your ears
And all we felt from all the years
And happy said was other fun
So now I place it in my hand
Inventions I can understand
But answers I will not demand
And spinning round and round and stop
And I was half your lollipop
And where was had of all the land
23 January 2007
I felt your gravy on my door
When once we scrambled down the shore
And blue was still the color green
And you were all my starry queen
And had we plenty doing for
I placed a boat upon your sea
You dusted off the toast from me
So we sat down to sip our tea
And you were cake upon my table
And when I wasn’t you were able
And many had us doing be
You worked until the night was done
Like silver from a rubber gun
You kissed the moon which shamed the sun
And peaches grew out of your ears
And all we felt from all the years
And happy said was other fun
So now I place it in my hand
Inventions I can understand
But answers I will not demand
And spinning round and round and stop
And I was half your lollipop
And where was had of all the land
23 January 2007
22 January 2007
A Porridge of It
What is it that you think of me?
A mighty lonesome cup of tea
But I remember what I see
And make a porridge of it
For there in wonderment it glows
Mysterious for what it knows
And if it gets to where it goes
We’ll make a porridge of it
But by the time you have this dream
I’ll not be true to what I seem
So don’t forget to add the cream
And make a porridge of it
But back then when we made our pact
I said that it was truest fact
But you weren’t quick enough to act
And make a porridge of it
So now it sits upon that hill
Amidst the winter’s icy chill
But if by summer it’s there still
We’ll make a porridge of it
17 January 2007
A mighty lonesome cup of tea
But I remember what I see
And make a porridge of it
For there in wonderment it glows
Mysterious for what it knows
And if it gets to where it goes
We’ll make a porridge of it
But by the time you have this dream
I’ll not be true to what I seem
So don’t forget to add the cream
And make a porridge of it
But back then when we made our pact
I said that it was truest fact
But you weren’t quick enough to act
And make a porridge of it
So now it sits upon that hill
Amidst the winter’s icy chill
But if by summer it’s there still
We’ll make a porridge of it
17 January 2007
10 January 2007
See You Later, Fred
Up the lazy tree trunk where the lunch pail grows
In the room of ribbons where the ice cream glows
Round and round the river
Down and down some more
Twice behind the toy box where the donkey shows
Two between the buses on the avenue
Into every igloo with the engine glue
Through the empty tunnel
To the deck of cards
Since the time when you and I were at the zoo
Once for all the ladies of the melting block
Right beside the fishing pole and flying clock
Three for each tomato
By the time I write
With a golden axe upon the silver sock
Under phones and over every water spout
All for every time and even in or out
Sideways to the middle
Up and up again
When he knows exactly what to think about
You must wear your stockings
You must wear your stockings
You must wear your stockings
So, see you later, Fred.
15 October 2006
In the room of ribbons where the ice cream glows
Round and round the river
Down and down some more
Twice behind the toy box where the donkey shows
Two between the buses on the avenue
Into every igloo with the engine glue
Through the empty tunnel
To the deck of cards
Since the time when you and I were at the zoo
Once for all the ladies of the melting block
Right beside the fishing pole and flying clock
Three for each tomato
By the time I write
With a golden axe upon the silver sock
Under phones and over every water spout
All for every time and even in or out
Sideways to the middle
Up and up again
When he knows exactly what to think about
You must wear your stockings
You must wear your stockings
You must wear your stockings
So, see you later, Fred.
15 October 2006
Once and only once, my
Once and only once, my shiny friend,
Is what holds the truth to me or you,
There was never more from start to end
When I saw you ever in the blue,
Twice and only twice, my ringing mate,
There was quite enough from you to me,
When you loved and loved enough to wait,
I had ever touched eternity,
Thrice and only thrice when time was young,
Closer to the home of every king,
All the songs that no one else has sung,
Under all the other stars that sing,
Take it all at once as now you see,
Hope and all the sounds of victory.
13 September 2006
Is what holds the truth to me or you,
There was never more from start to end
When I saw you ever in the blue,
Twice and only twice, my ringing mate,
There was quite enough from you to me,
When you loved and loved enough to wait,
I had ever touched eternity,
Thrice and only thrice when time was young,
Closer to the home of every king,
All the songs that no one else has sung,
Under all the other stars that sing,
Take it all at once as now you see,
Hope and all the sounds of victory.
13 September 2006
01 January 2007
Fire by Day
Pokin’ me, pokin’ me,
You have awoken me
But now you must let go
Because you’re a-chokin’ me
It doesn’t feel good
To sit in your ribcage
Staring out at a world
Full of axle grease
I need a mother
Who enters the boxing ring
Thinking of pharaohs
And counting each piece
Pokin’ me, pokin’ me,
You have awoken me
But now you must let go
Because you’re a-chokin’ me
Knowing just how to
Tighten a razor blade
Mash up scrap metal
Or lasso a mouse
Makes me feel giddy
As a pedestrian
Like I could just up
And swallow a house…
Pokin’ me, pokin’ me,
You have awoken me
But now you must let go
Because you’re a-chokin’ me
Fire by day and
Pillar by moonlight
You lead me on into
Dreams of new land
I walk in circles
So tired of whistling
Thinking of paintings
I don’t understand
Pokin’ me, pokin’ me,
You have awoken me
But now you must let go
Because you’re a-chokin’ me
11 October 2006
You have awoken me
But now you must let go
Because you’re a-chokin’ me
It doesn’t feel good
To sit in your ribcage
Staring out at a world
Full of axle grease
I need a mother
Who enters the boxing ring
Thinking of pharaohs
And counting each piece
Pokin’ me, pokin’ me,
You have awoken me
But now you must let go
Because you’re a-chokin’ me
Knowing just how to
Tighten a razor blade
Mash up scrap metal
Or lasso a mouse
Makes me feel giddy
As a pedestrian
Like I could just up
And swallow a house…
Pokin’ me, pokin’ me,
You have awoken me
But now you must let go
Because you’re a-chokin’ me
Fire by day and
Pillar by moonlight
You lead me on into
Dreams of new land
I walk in circles
So tired of whistling
Thinking of paintings
I don’t understand
Pokin’ me, pokin’ me,
You have awoken me
But now you must let go
Because you’re a-chokin’ me
11 October 2006
What Mr. Puddle Didn’t Know
Mr. Puddle left his house just after four
Looking for a friend, a tick he’d met before
Lately he’d been thinking
As we sometimes do
Tableware was clinking
The side of his canoe
What he didn’t know was how to open up the door
Buses swayed like jelly up and down the street
Puddle knew the firemen would soon retreat
Then he saw a thingy
Something caught his eye
Seeing it was stringy
He made no reply
What he didn’t know was how to keep a steady beat
Later in the changing room without a hook
Mr. Puddle acted like he’d read the book
Tick was privy to it
That is all we know
Someone had to do it
Puddle let it go
What he didn’t know was just how long the whole thing took
Just before his bedtime in the dining car
Tick procured a broom from just behind the bar
Swept it all up sweetly
From the dirty floor
Stacked the teacups neatly
“What’d you do that for?”
What he didn’t know was that they hadn’t gone that far
After Mr. Puddle and his friend the tick
Heard the screaming babies they performed the trick
When the music started
Someone blew the fuse
Everyone departed
Such depressing news
What he didn’t know was how to shake a fairy stick
That is why this story has a moral too
Every tale should have one even if it’s true
Never take a pigeon
To a matinee
Not even a smidgeon
Not the other way
Mr. Puddle’s sorry that he never really knew
15 October 2006
Looking for a friend, a tick he’d met before
Lately he’d been thinking
As we sometimes do
Tableware was clinking
The side of his canoe
What he didn’t know was how to open up the door
Buses swayed like jelly up and down the street
Puddle knew the firemen would soon retreat
Then he saw a thingy
Something caught his eye
Seeing it was stringy
He made no reply
What he didn’t know was how to keep a steady beat
Later in the changing room without a hook
Mr. Puddle acted like he’d read the book
Tick was privy to it
That is all we know
Someone had to do it
Puddle let it go
What he didn’t know was just how long the whole thing took
Just before his bedtime in the dining car
Tick procured a broom from just behind the bar
Swept it all up sweetly
From the dirty floor
Stacked the teacups neatly
“What’d you do that for?”
What he didn’t know was that they hadn’t gone that far
After Mr. Puddle and his friend the tick
Heard the screaming babies they performed the trick
When the music started
Someone blew the fuse
Everyone departed
Such depressing news
What he didn’t know was how to shake a fairy stick
That is why this story has a moral too
Every tale should have one even if it’s true
Never take a pigeon
To a matinee
Not even a smidgeon
Not the other way
Mr. Puddle’s sorry that he never really knew
15 October 2006
31 December 2006
Yoodle's Tale
Yoodle went to yonk his forange
Found out it was way too twink
Threw it up into the corange
Got it wumped into a crink
He was sad and so informand
He was herper than a cornk
So he walked to Arimorand
With his belp around his yornk
This made things more ecrisyphy
Than they’d ever been before
But Yoodle felt all the more lify
As we walked that wilp or more
Finally he came to a pancer
Stopped to lomp upon the spink
Man named Hoozer said, “No manser,
You must stop, you porly quink.”
Yoodle wayfully ignored him
Went on lomping as he liked
Hoozer, fraized, when right up to him
Rumped him hard right in his fike
This made Yoodle far more noffy
He just blaxed and blaned and bloned
Decided not to ever scoffy
Even if it meant he sponed
Now he stays at Hoolipater
Making sigs from Albinotes
You should see him when he’s sater
It’s much better than shabotes
And it’s what we shall remember
When the gime is all forbleet
Never could we have insembered
If Yoodle hadn’t gone to weet
22 August 2006
Found out it was way too twink
Threw it up into the corange
Got it wumped into a crink
He was sad and so informand
He was herper than a cornk
So he walked to Arimorand
With his belp around his yornk
This made things more ecrisyphy
Than they’d ever been before
But Yoodle felt all the more lify
As we walked that wilp or more
Finally he came to a pancer
Stopped to lomp upon the spink
Man named Hoozer said, “No manser,
You must stop, you porly quink.”
Yoodle wayfully ignored him
Went on lomping as he liked
Hoozer, fraized, when right up to him
Rumped him hard right in his fike
This made Yoodle far more noffy
He just blaxed and blaned and bloned
Decided not to ever scoffy
Even if it meant he sponed
Now he stays at Hoolipater
Making sigs from Albinotes
You should see him when he’s sater
It’s much better than shabotes
And it’s what we shall remember
When the gime is all forbleet
Never could we have insembered
If Yoodle hadn’t gone to weet
22 August 2006
Limrock 2
There once was a what-do-you-know
That didn’t have that far to go
And yet it quite stopped
When the temperature dropped
And that is about all we know
13 August 2006
That didn’t have that far to go
And yet it quite stopped
When the temperature dropped
And that is about all we know
13 August 2006
Where You Are Found
humperdown my rosy friends
and humperdown my lady
take it lightly as a whim
or coodle like a baby
stimmerback my dankled kin
and stimmerback my queen
make the table space for joy
and tell me where you’ve been
chumple up my limely pals
and chumple up my honey
save some for the wiley blue
and give away your money
hopple down my perfy mates
hopple down my bride
take a lesson from the dreel
or grow your witchard wide
humperdown or stimmerback
chumple up or hopple down
which one you do my corly maid
will tell where you are found
9 August 2006
and humperdown my lady
take it lightly as a whim
or coodle like a baby
stimmerback my dankled kin
and stimmerback my queen
make the table space for joy
and tell me where you’ve been
chumple up my limely pals
and chumple up my honey
save some for the wiley blue
and give away your money
hopple down my perfy mates
hopple down my bride
take a lesson from the dreel
or grow your witchard wide
humperdown or stimmerback
chumple up or hopple down
which one you do my corly maid
will tell where you are found
9 August 2006
Limrock 1
My turtle has rippled his edge
While Sally has turned to her dredge
And neither is true
To the slup I go through
So I shop to the end of the hedge
6 August 2006
While Sally has turned to her dredge
And neither is true
To the slup I go through
So I shop to the end of the hedge
6 August 2006
27 December 2006
The Tick of Maplehurst
A tick upon the primrose path
made Franny start to sway.
It jumped up in her nose, you see
and there began to play
a tune about old Maplehurst
upon its red guitar,
the smallest one you’ll ever see
not here nor very far.
The tick had been at Maplehurst,
one of the very few
who was not killed amidst the strife
and did not get the flu.
So many others lost their lives
in battles fought out there,
but not the tick in Franny’s nose.
I know that seems unfair.
It’s not for us to understand.
We’re not to question why.
Some of us just have the luck.
Some of us just die.
Some of us just have a tick
playing music in our noses,
but that’s our fault for bending down
to smell the lovely roses.
18 August 2006
made Franny start to sway.
It jumped up in her nose, you see
and there began to play
a tune about old Maplehurst
upon its red guitar,
the smallest one you’ll ever see
not here nor very far.
The tick had been at Maplehurst,
one of the very few
who was not killed amidst the strife
and did not get the flu.
So many others lost their lives
in battles fought out there,
but not the tick in Franny’s nose.
I know that seems unfair.
It’s not for us to understand.
We’re not to question why.
Some of us just have the luck.
Some of us just die.
Some of us just have a tick
playing music in our noses,
but that’s our fault for bending down
to smell the lovely roses.
18 August 2006
Labels:
guitar,
Maplehurst,
nose,
poem,
tick,
understand
Time for Every Season
Teasing teasing, why are we
About to sell our lucky tree
And yet I set you on me knee
It’s time for every season
Yummy yummy, don’t you know
What to say to things that grow
And yet you lean upon your toe
It’s time for every season
People people, come and cheer
For all the things that I hold dear
And let me kick you in the ear
It’s time for every season
Engine engine, there’s a game
We play it when we feel the same
But I forgot your sister’s name
It’s time for every season
Wonder wonder, bugs of joy
What you make you will destroy
So staple me to cousin Roy
It’s time for every season
Engine engine, now there’s more
Than what you ever bargained for
And so I swim across the floor
It’s time for every season…
Raisin raisin, you’re my friend
Double back around the bend
Come we now have to the end
It’s time for every season
13 August 2006
About to sell our lucky tree
And yet I set you on me knee
It’s time for every season
Yummy yummy, don’t you know
What to say to things that grow
And yet you lean upon your toe
It’s time for every season
People people, come and cheer
For all the things that I hold dear
And let me kick you in the ear
It’s time for every season
Engine engine, there’s a game
We play it when we feel the same
But I forgot your sister’s name
It’s time for every season
Wonder wonder, bugs of joy
What you make you will destroy
So staple me to cousin Roy
It’s time for every season
Engine engine, now there’s more
Than what you ever bargained for
And so I swim across the floor
It’s time for every season…
Raisin raisin, you’re my friend
Double back around the bend
Come we now have to the end
It’s time for every season
13 August 2006
The Sounds of Maplehurst
Maplehurst is where we’ve been
and things that we did there
of all the planets of the earth
got in our underwear
and battles fought we on the lawn
so take them both with peace
and you will have to be the one
when I am quite deceased
Maplehurst, oh Maplehurst
I’d die upon your flower
in seasons of humanity
displays of choking power
the brandy wine we made for you
a ship for every sailor
I saw a stranger cut in line
out back behind the trailer
the boots of mighty Maplehurst
will ever be not proud
not to the next of kin it goes
not from the whispers loud
13 August 2006
and things that we did there
of all the planets of the earth
got in our underwear
and battles fought we on the lawn
so take them both with peace
and you will have to be the one
when I am quite deceased
Maplehurst, oh Maplehurst
I’d die upon your flower
in seasons of humanity
displays of choking power
the brandy wine we made for you
a ship for every sailor
I saw a stranger cut in line
out back behind the trailer
the boots of mighty Maplehurst
will ever be not proud
not to the next of kin it goes
not from the whispers loud
13 August 2006
The Hoax Absurd
Curly May did Bessie play
a poke upon her teaser
Silas parked his overalls
across the rented wheezer
The three of them were gaping fast
when cleanly caught my eye
A caterpillar’s saintly chin
a-yawning with a sign
We took it through and round about
the ripple on the skid
Last but not the least of which
was purpled by the lid
And painted on a rougher spot
the beagle ugly sat
Yelling slurs down to the field
about the way you hold the bat
Raising a cry for Maplehurst
and battles we’d fought there
We crowded round the mealy monk
and watched him tool the air
But when we’d got him calm again
and May and Bessie purred
The caterpillar clicked my cup
and called we both the hoax absurd
9 August 2006
a poke upon her teaser
Silas parked his overalls
across the rented wheezer
The three of them were gaping fast
when cleanly caught my eye
A caterpillar’s saintly chin
a-yawning with a sign
We took it through and round about
the ripple on the skid
Last but not the least of which
was purpled by the lid
And painted on a rougher spot
the beagle ugly sat
Yelling slurs down to the field
about the way you hold the bat
Raising a cry for Maplehurst
and battles we’d fought there
We crowded round the mealy monk
and watched him tool the air
But when we’d got him calm again
and May and Bessie purred
The caterpillar clicked my cup
and called we both the hoax absurd
9 August 2006
The Croc and Mr. Puddle
Crocodile is at the window
looking in with chin on thumb
Mr. Puddle spots a rainbow
holds his hand out to the sun
artifacts adorn the bedroom
papers strewn across the floor
Crocodile has lots of headroom
but will not enter by the door
fire engine turns a corner
chasing cat and ball and frog
engine wailing like a mourner
drives into a Lincoln Log
Mr. Puddle turns to see it
breaking free from timeless trance
though he knows he cannot be it
loves the notion of romance
now the room has grown much smaller
all the toys are put away
Crocodile is smiling taller
Puddle asks the croc to stay
declining by a shrug of shoulder
reptile thanks him with a grin
human now feels so much bolder
it’s not to say what might have been
it’s not to say what might have been
24 July 2006
looking in with chin on thumb
Mr. Puddle spots a rainbow
holds his hand out to the sun
artifacts adorn the bedroom
papers strewn across the floor
Crocodile has lots of headroom
but will not enter by the door
fire engine turns a corner
chasing cat and ball and frog
engine wailing like a mourner
drives into a Lincoln Log
Mr. Puddle turns to see it
breaking free from timeless trance
though he knows he cannot be it
loves the notion of romance
now the room has grown much smaller
all the toys are put away
Crocodile is smiling taller
Puddle asks the croc to stay
declining by a shrug of shoulder
reptile thanks him with a grin
human now feels so much bolder
it’s not to say what might have been
it’s not to say what might have been
24 July 2006
Labels:
crocodile,
fire engine,
poem,
puddle,
rainbow
04 December 2006
Says Possum
Green the possum plainly bakes
Guarded by the family snakes
O’er the footbridge now he takes
Clothespins to the river
There he lays them two by two
Enough for me, enough for you
Thoughts of red and dreams of glue
Awakening his liver
Making it his daily job
Possum knows he’s not a snob
Eats his meat and smokes his cob
But now he’s all aquiver
Family snakes want to help out
Moving round and round about
One can dance and one can shout
But Clem can only shiver
So take his hand and tuck your chin
Purple blue and jump right in
‘Why you wear that silly grin?’
Says Possum
24 July 2006
Guarded by the family snakes
O’er the footbridge now he takes
Clothespins to the river
There he lays them two by two
Enough for me, enough for you
Thoughts of red and dreams of glue
Awakening his liver
Making it his daily job
Possum knows he’s not a snob
Eats his meat and smokes his cob
But now he’s all aquiver
Family snakes want to help out
Moving round and round about
One can dance and one can shout
But Clem can only shiver
So take his hand and tuck your chin
Purple blue and jump right in
‘Why you wear that silly grin?’
Says Possum
24 July 2006
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