The cat fell asleep in my shoe
And I don’t know what to do!
I really don’t want to shout,
But soon I have to go out.
If I wait here then maybe
She’ll have to go pee
Or get something to eat
And I can warm my frozen feet.
Awww…she’s so innocent and cute!
How can I give her the boot?
I’ll just give her the shoe.
What else can I do?
Category: Poems
Stormy Stage
Let’s dance to the backdrop of rain,
Let’s sing to the beat of thunder,
Let’s laugh and watch with wonder,
While the world is torn asunder.
Let’s promise to always remember,
Things can be both beautiful and frightening,
On our stormy stage, we will be striking,
And bow under a spotlight of lightning.
Fourth of July Fireworks
BOOM! CLAP! Colors crackle across the sky.
Gunshots fire a brilliant kaleidoscope.
From ancient seats, the steadfast stars shine,
With a glittering wink, new stars hint at hope.
With fire – we remember those who came before.
With magic – we honor their vision and cause.
Electrifying thunder and booming lightning –
Together – force a worried, harried world to pause.
Reflect.
And remember.
Happy Fourth of July! And a heartfelt thank you to all the men and women who serve our country, as well as the “old stars” who made the American dream possible.
The Tide is Drawing Me In
The tide is drawing me in –
In, into the foaming, romping waves,
Into the glittering mystery,
Into the turquoise tease,
Into the music of the mermaids,
Into the golden end of the world.
The tide is always drawing me in.
It never casts me out.
I Met Her Dancing
I met her dancing,
With pink flowers in her hair,
Starry eyes and a silver smile,
Whispering wishes into the air.
Her bare feet glided above the ground,
And with an innocent glance,
She inquired if I remembered life
When I used to dance.
Merry Christmas Eve
The children lay awake all night,
Listening for the clack of reindeer hooves,
Straining for the sight of a jolly old man
As he silently steals to the snow-capped roof.
When the dawn at last broke into the room,
They sprang up like prisoners set free.
In a sugarplum rush, they ran down the hall
Onto their parents’ bed with squeals of glee.
Sleepily, dad stirred under the sheets,
Wondering what they let their kids believe.
“Children…it’s time you know…
The difference between Christmas and Christmas Eve.”
Trying to Fly
I asked a bird to teach me to fly,
He chirped and twittered and promised to try,
But when a feat requires wings,
Arms become quite useless things.
I asked a fish how to breathe in the murky blue,
He said that it is just something you do,
But if you have lungs instead of gills,
Breathing underwater usually kills.
I asked a dog to teach me to sniff,
He barked, “Open your nostrils and take a whiff,”
But it seems I lack sense in my olfactory;
I cannot decipher messages on a pole or tree.
There are “impossible” things a person should try,
But we were not made to slither or fly.
And, in trying to be all that we can,
We tend to forget the limits of man.
People Jam
There’s a traffic jam of people,
Filling up the street.
No car can detour past,
That sea of rushing feet.
The traffic light told them to stop,
The red hand tried to hold them back,
But the people kept pushing past,
In stampeding, unstoppable pack.
The police came out,
Sirens wail, whistles scream,
Irate drivers are honking horns,
But the people rush on full steam.
Finally, the cars were crowded out,
The police grew tired of being mocked,
The traffic lights fell asleep,
And still – the people walked.
Inspired by my trip to New York City.
Bad Manors
I am the Lord of Bad Manors,
Beside the Immaturi Sea,
A splendid place without silly rules,
Where everyone is free,
To do whatever they want,
And never give an apology.
We never cover our mouths when we sneeze,
Say “thank you,” “you’re welcome,” or “please”.
We lick our fingers and have a food fight,
At precisely 6 o’clock every weekday night,
We burp and brag and hit and holler,
Never wash our shirts or tuck our collar,
We scratch and sniff and slap and scream,
And get away with anything.
There are no rules at Bad Manors,
Everyone is as rude as they want to be,
Without being bossed by a parent or teacher.
It’s wonderful! But strangely,
Everyone who is here lives here;
No one ever visits me.
Stars
God spread out
A woolen blanket
Of dark cold,
Then he took a handful of gems
Richest treasure,
Crusted with filth,
And like a gambler
Wishing for luck,
He blew His mighty breath on them
And they burst
Into flames
Of ice blue
And majestic purple
And dazzling gold
And brilliant orange
And scorching red
And He threw them
Across the blanket.
He scattered them
Across the dark expanse
Like a gambler
Tossing his die
Before a crowd of passive faces.
And He named them
For they are His
To give Him glory
And to illuminate this world
Stifled in an oppressive dark
And to mystify us
For all ages
As they silently sing for joy.
A Floating Shift 