A Place To Play

A Place To Play


It was a place to play,
with trucks and cars,
buckets and boats and mason jars.

We built castles with moats,
and drawbridges,
high atop great mountain ridges.

We would dig deep ditches,
and long tunnels,
then fill with hoses and funnels.

We'd carve out a deep pit,
and fill with brew,
and dance around like witches do.

With some firecrackers,
we could explode,
toy soldiers like a landmine load.

We were not very rich,
but rather poor,
and this can't be bought in a store.

Now as I'm thinking back,
I'm happy still,
cause I grew up... with a dirt hill.

Sock

Sock

Ever get a hole,

in the toe of your sock?

Or in the heel?

It's quite hard to walk.

Your toe gets cold.

Your heel gets sweaty.

To throw that sock away,

you are ready.

But it is certainly,

not very funny,

to waste a whole bunch,

of hard earned money.

You decide to mend it,

to save a dime.

It can't be that hard,

it should take no time.

You pick up a sharp needle,

and some good strong thread,

but by the time you thread it,

you're practically dead!

So you get some yarn,

and two needles to knit it,

after what seems like a year,

you just forget it.

You decide to skip,

all the thread and yarn.

You toss the sock in the trash,

and say, "Darn!"

Uncle Vern

Uncle Vern

They're bushy as a brier,

and bright red as a fire,

sticking out like a sore thumb.

They're strong as a Velcro strap,

in the wind they flop and flap,

which causes an eerie hum.

They're napkins at the table,

or where ever they're able,

to stop each morsel and crumb.

A pirate couldn't grow these,

or a trucker named Louise,

but maybe a tough street bum.

They could be a fishing net,

on this you can surely bet,

you'd catch fewer fish with chum.

You ask:

What are these, pretty please?

We say:

They're Uncle Vern's... side-burns!

Too Soon June

Too Soon June

Before the others,

start to run,

Too Soon June,

always jumps the gun.

Before the others,

sing and shout,

Too Soon June,

blows her candles out.

Before there's a worm,

on her hook,

Too Soon June,

casts out in the brook.

Before her bread,

can even toast,

Too Soon June's

eaten it almost.

Before her shoes,

are on just right,

Too Soon June's,

got them laced up tight.

Before this poem,

can come to age,

Too Soon June's...

turned the page.

It's Dangerous To...

It's Dangerous To...

Everyone knows,

it's dangerous to...

run with scissors,

but it's also true...

Not to dance,

with a toothbrush in your mouth.

Or chase geese,

when they are migrating south.

Do not jog,

on gravel without your shoes.

Or ride bikes,

in church on the backs of pews.

Do not fish,

in a rickety old boat.

Or tease a,

fat, grumpy, old billy goat.

Do not climb,

a tree with rotten branches.

Or play tag,

in barns on run down ranches.

No, don't do these,

not a single one.

Unless of course,

you want to have fun!

A Dreadful Condition

A Dreadful Condition

It happens suddenly,

when you least expect,

kind of like a bit of,

whiplash in the neck.

It's quite painful,

and it will surprise you,

just be glad that,

it won't paralyze you.

It's face wrenching,

like hot mustard spice,

and you feel like,

your head's in a vice.

Ice cream cones, popsicles, milk shakes,

or anything else like these,

can cause the dreadful condition,

simply known as... brain freeze!

My Face

My Face

My dad said to I,

"Son, keep your eyes peeled,

and your chin up high."

Mom said, when I was young,

"Son, open your ears,

and kindly bite your tongue."

My school teacher always said,

"Keep your nose to the grindstone."

and, "Do you have rocks in your head?"

The pastor preached every week,

"Grit your teeth, my boy,

and always turn the other cheek."

With all these folks on my case,

I just want to know...

how I can ever save face.