A Long Time Ago When I Was A Kid

When I was a kid
A long time ago
I had growing pains
And now I am old
My youth long gone
But now have groin pains
Which causes more pain
Mainly in my bank account
Which is truly painful
Although it doesn't amount
To very much at all
The amount, that is
Although the pain does
Amount to something
But has nothing to do
With me or anything else
Growing that is
And for sure there isn't much
In terms of growing anymore
Especially in my groin area
Around my waist, yes,
Around my groin area, no
It would be so nice
But to proceed any further
Might not be so nice
If I continue this talk
Of growing, groins and pain
Which is beginning to sound
Quite pitiful and lame
So no more nostalgic talk
About groins and growing and such
And seek something less nostalgic
From the more resent past
Or something else
From a long time ago
When I was a Kid

The Thief of Hearts

When you tell me that you love me
You send my heart a flying
When you look me in the eyes and smile
I find you quite beguiling
And when you put your hands in mine
With your tender touch
I imagine our two bodies all entwined
While I hold you in my clutch
You know it was my heart you stole
And how I love you, oh so very much

So when you tell me that you love me
And when I taste your kisses sweet
Your kisses spark all desire
So that when our hips do finally meet
I feel like I'm on fire
And so it goes each time you smile
Then look into my eyes
With your tender love you do beguile
You have stolen both my heart and soul
You are the Thief of Hearts with style

The People Have Spoken

The people have spoken
And now resume their lives
NOT! Or not exactly
The conservatives go back to work
Win or lose that is a conservative
No marches or riots or protests
While he liberals protest and rally
But really it is just whining
And a lot of sour grapes
Much promoted by the media
And by community activists
Who wouldn't know a real job
Even if it smacked them in the face
And lets really face it
Some people do need a smacking
An honest to goodness wake-up call
A call to grow up, especially now
Since the people have spoken . . .

Post Election Thoughts . . .

I was up most of the night
Mesmerized by election results
Watching and counting
As blue states and red states
Lined up with election results
Leaving me to wonder
Who would the winner be
And wondering about our country
Wondering if we can come together
Or if the contention will continue
Can we all get behind the winner?
It is hard to say with such sorry choices
But with the election now over
There remain but one choice
Come together and pray
And support the people's choice
Hoping and praying for the best
Indeed, the best for our country . . .

MY Tummy Loves Me

Lunch is over
And I am full
My tummy talks
Saying this is so
That I am full
Satiated and full
My magical tummy
Does it's magic
Pulling on eyelids
Causing them to droop
Then pulling them closed
Followed by messages
Indeed, tummy messages
Going to work on my brain
Saying it is nap time
Time for a day dream
An afternoon snooze
Leaving me one thought
One thing that I know
Besides wanting to nap
A comforting knowledge
That my tummy loves me . . .

Night Games!

Night Games!
The summer night shout
And the fun started
Usually with tag
Or maybe dodge ball
Followed by hide and seek
But sardines was the best
In fact, my favorite
What a fun game
With one person hiding
And all others seeking
How fun it was
To find the one hiding
Then hide with them
Soon to be followed
By another seeker
Who would then hide
With the other two
And so on, until
Everyone was hiding
But in the same place
All huddling together
Like a bunch of sardines
And if it was a lucky night
A little bit of cuddling
With the cute girl next door
Although not very romantic
But still loads of fun
And for this reason
We all looked forward
To when the shout went out
Night Games!

Piano Lessons: From Hell or Swell?

Piano lessons were Hell
First there was Bart Olson
He was a grade school teacher
Who came to our home
Usually once a week
After school for an hour
But the lessons seemed forever
Yet, that wasn't the worst part
Because Bart Olson was mean
Always slapping my hand
Or hitting my fingers
Usually with a pencil
Oh, how I hated piano lessons
Still, I wanted to learn piano
Fantasizing myself a rock star
Or playing in a piano bar
But Bart Olson didn't see it that way
I was so glad when he got another job
Moving far, far away
But then there was Mary Thompson
Who took meany Bart Olson's place
Mary was nice and well-meaning
Still, the piano lessons were Hell
Because her focus was all hymns
Yet sweet old Mary tried
So I gritted my teeth
Until I almost cried
And soon the piano lessons ended
Leaving me to wonder and ponder
About what I might have learned
If I would have persisted
Maybe today I would see those lessons
As really quite swell

To Need or Not Needing to Write

Needing to write
Yet fighting the need
Needing to rest
Wanting to do right
So which is best?
My mind is racing
So sleep isn't best
But with a tired mind
Just trying to write
Is a challenging quest
So not giving up
Here writing I sit
I must write something
I must not quit
But what to write?
Maybe about sleep
Or maybe about bed
And closing my eyes
To a slumber so deep
Sleeping for hours
All through the night
Finally finding rest
Having won the fight
Of needing to write