It Happens Every Time, Mr. Frost

Asleep, I need to keep awake

Poems that plow deep furrows,

Nurturing seeds of promise

I must find time to reap;

When I wake, I find reams,

Reams of shallow promises

Still keeping me asleep.

Coming upon a Dead Toad, I Remember an Old Friend from the Vietnam Era

When I saw what had happened

To the toad that only yesterday

Had been reconnoitering my garden,

The first thing that shot through

My mind was my buddy’s strange

But now too, too familiar

Nickname splayed out

Cross the road there.

If Pegasus Could Talk: The Last Word in Poetry!

Okay, jocks, have it your way—

Whinny nicker whicker neigh,

No words and all play.

Invasion of the Snail People et al.

Believe it or not , before these people 'et  all of us on this here saucer, they also devoured two pans full of our kinfolk!

Your Friendly, Inviting Bird Feeder

Chirping in a whirring

Circle in the branches

Above the table where

I sit and watch, it looks like

My friends are thinking

Twice about attacking

The crumbs

I’ve most kindly left

On the slab of wood hanging

Like a swing from the leafless

Judas tree.

.

As long as I’m here, I know

They’ll keep their distance,

Springing on my offering only

After I leave them alone.

Such ungrateful wretches.

Don’t these birds understand?

They should be eating out of my hand.