Song for my own personal amusement in a key upon which I’ve yet to decide.

the conscience of my childhood daze
was played on wooden spoons
by happy wooly spiders
itsybitsying cross the room
the form it took, a ballad pure
sung in sunny smiles
and if your hair is flared enough
i’ll sing it for a while…


don’t put your hand in the fire
and never jump off a house
and if it’s long life you aspire
be sure not to swallow a mouse
don’t pull a face in a windstorm
and never eat cakes in the rain
but get out of the bath ‘fore the plug’s pulled
or you’re bound to be sucked down the drain.

sha la la la lee.

Nobel Thoughts (unfinished)

The angry young men
all growed up and died
or else they are dripping
with glittering prizes
bestowed by the people
that they never would be
back in their youth
when they spoke out for me
did change come to them
instead of the world
do they still even notice
how it all unfurled
or do cares blow away
like leaves in the wind
and as spring turns to autumn
do we become blind

Rainy Monday Morning Notes

There’s a pixie in my pocket
and a fairy in my hood
a goblin whispered up my nose
(his eyesight’s not that good)
“Don’t trust the pocket pixie,
she’s cunning in her ruse,
despite her little winsome look
she really is bad news”
The fairy she concurred with him
but she said it in my ear
“don’t worry, lad, we’re here for you
you really should not fear”