Don't Give The Poor Your Trash

The solid, the secure, and the strong
Can lift the weak and right their wrong
Sympathy, prayer, and platitudes drift
To poor folks they are worthless gifts

When I fall down and my teeth I gnash
Who runs to me praying gives me trash
I need your hand, or dip into your stash
Give me no trash if you keep your cash

Rich and Poor are both a bore

Poor folks went shopping at the store

But not to purchase but just to explore

These folks were poor and I mean poor

Rich folks at the store stared even more

They found the rich too good to adore

Why won’t they drop cash on the floor

The rich found them too fun to ignore

Myself, I yawned and started to snore

The rich and the poor both such a bore

 

Can you hear her smile?

With noisy friends I went to a foreign land
With every voice sealed with a magic wand
All manners of speech were strictly banned
By smiles alone ladies formed a vocal band

Quiet ladies can speak volumes with a smile
Most cheerful tongue of every land and Isle
Since then when I journey around the world
My ears hear smiles more than spoken word

She Will Trap Your Heart

The womanizer was thrilled on by the chase

Garbed in style, his priority he did misplace
Chase was the only goal of the show shaman
A chaser aptly nicknamed a sports fisherman

Then that fourteenth day of the second month

When even secret lovers pull down their front
A day his victims had vowed he’d be so sorry
Sorry as his heart melted upon a girl’s sorcery

Dark Chocolate Is My Only Drug

You, my chocolate of picturesque mystique

Of the Sahara, Kilimanjaro, of Mozambique

Of East, of West, South and North of Afrik

You, my medicinal soothers, of you I speak

You, noon nectars of burnished extraction

I summon you daily, not to a heroic action  

You, the drugs that sustain my high elation

Come, invocation of you is my medication

The Vicar's Neon Knickers

Fit neon stickers on the knickers of a vicar
Will his wife be quicker to bicker or snicker
And if the vicar visits kids and light flickers
Do the kids kick and snicker at his knickers

If the vicar goes to a game of cherry pickers
Do the pickers kick him like football kickers
If the House elects him neon House Speaker
Neon knickers will expose the vicar-poli-ticker

My love in June

My love, we are in the month of June
You, too, are here crooning me a tune
Don’t stop, oh love, I love your croon
Eyes-pleasing flowers all over strewn

Your romantic show pleases my eyes
Bright love, such sight you maximize
The sight with which I now commune
You, my love, are my month of June