Posts Tagged ‘poem

Protected: Writing

Posted in Writingson Dec 18, 2006

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  • Tags: poem

Wishing well

Posted in Writingson Dec 7, 2006

Wishing Well picWishing well, wishing well
cast me a spell
Release me from prison
and release me from hell

help me find beauty
help me rebel
wishing well send me
from this jail cell

someone is out there
someone who cares
help me to find her
and answer my prayers

I’ll donate a penny
I’ll donate a thought
wishing well grant me
the desires I sought

Some of us wonder
and some of us pray
grant us our wishes
while its still today

But while we sit wishing
the opportunities fly
so get off your fanny
and find your sweet pie.

But if I could just walk away
I wouldn’t know which words to say
but if you want I’ll try to stay
so tell me
whats the key

And if I love you, tell me will you
If I’m lonely destined, throw me a clue

Mending the fence

Posted in Writingson Mar 2, 2006

The fence between us
separated east from west
Stood once strong like iron
headaches not cured by aspirin

One word of kindness
almost cured the blindness
The fence began to fall
weakened was the wall

But then jealous intents
East’s words made no sense
Made the fense need fixing
now it inhibits further mixing.

On Grass

Posted in Writingson Nov 15, 2005

Grass is green
Grass ain’t clean
Grass is good
It cleans the air like it should
Grass is nice
Shouldn’t be used as a spice
Don’t smoke it
Or eat it
Unless you are a cow
Even then, cows shouldn’t smoke grass
It is not good for your health
To drink milk from a cow that was smoking grass
So please all you cows out there,
Eat, don’t smoke grass, and we can all be happy.
Thanks Mrs. Reagan

Collage without crayons

Posted in Writingson Oct 14, 2005

Collage without crayons
where did the color go
the rhythm is the same
along with the flow

The crayolas stirred
deep, passionate shades
visited the paper often
it seemed the road was paved

But now the crayon does sit
lonely with 31 friends
It has so much to offer
but the author now uses pens


Posted in Writingson Sep 4, 2005

Put my hand in my pocket
thought I was poor
but what I found
a little bit more
a metaphor