A Simple Poem

I cannot dance, I cannot sing
I cannot do most anything
But should I have a little time
I’ll attempt to prove that I can rhyme
in doing so then I can try
to show there’s more than meets the eye
to these, my metered strings of phrase
which with a measured thought I weighed
and set out thus in couplet style
in hopes to show I have no guile
no great wisdom to impart
no secrets of the head or heart
just a simple yen to spin
my words into this ode within.


The Ugly Fish

There’s a really ugly fish in the middle of my pond
his underbite’s atrocious and his fins are far too long
he sits among the weeds all day acting rather coy
and carps on his misfortune and sucks all of the joy
out of all the other fish which spend their time in there
having to put up with him, it really isn’t fair
I think I’ll catch a pelican and set him out to sneak
around my little garden pond sporting
his pointy beak
with luck he’ll feel quite peckish and break the water’s still
and gulp that ugly fish right up into his saggy bill.

Up In Snowy Poetland : an open ended nonsense rhyme which will likely never find its end.

Up in snowy Poetland
the trains don’t run on time
because each station’s timetable
by order, has to rhyme

at ten past six each morning
the first express train runs
but doesn’t leave the platform
at least ’til half past one.

Up in snowy Poetland
for education’s sake
the local college campus
is built from angel cake

that a pastry chef from Paris, France
was architect for schools
is likely the main reason
all the students there are fools.

Up in snowy Poetland
a walrus is the mayor
his chief of staff’s a carpenter
(is there a reference there?)

and council meetings make no sense
in fact they often fail
with points of order hammered home
without the use of nails


Unfinished Dream

old fish cakes
and belly aches
chased me through the night
into the arms,
and suspect charms
of an unexpected sight
a shoddy king
with shiny rings
hugged and kissed me so
and ‘fore i woke,
the words he spoke
I didn’t want to know.

my love, you’ve died
his tears belied
for never did he weep
I took your dreams
and wiped them clean
when you were prone asleep
you’re now bereft
for I am death
the king of all that’s born
and now you know
so you must go
away from thoughts of dawn.