There once was a man from Niagara
whose wiener's so long it would stab ya'
but when it got little
his pills became skittles
until he O.D.'d on Viagra
© ~JSLambert 2011*****A classic "stiff" competitor, standing "firm" amongst other "members" in the "thick" of the competition:) hope everyone gets "a rise" out of it!
I can hear him coming
Several times a day
Jim's a bathroom junkie
I'm his favorite hide away
The first thing he does
Is flip on light and fan
Avoiding unpleasant vapors
Its all part of the plan
He sits on the porcelain pony
And gently closes his eyes
Imagines he's James T. Kirk
On the starship Enterprise
In here, Jim is King
He rests upon the throne
Royalty with no subjects
He rules this Kingdom alone
But there's no threat of being bored
He could stay in here all day
With all the books and the magazines
And a mirror where he flexes away
It's all about the options
In this place of unique charm
Because the truth be known
More times than not, it's a false alarm
It's discovered the "Boss" is missing
I know they'll find him soon
It doesn't take rocket science to know
He's here again.. in Jim's Bathroom.
Contest: Tickle My Funny Bone
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Millicent Portia Ponsonby-Smyth
Could speak fluent French by the time she was five.
By the age of just eight she was top of her class,
There wasn’t a test that she couldn’t pass.
English and maths she coped with just fine
And quantum mechanics she’d mastered by nine.
Her parents were proud, but a little concerned
That she’d never have fun if she stayed in to learn.
Her father said, “Millicent go out and play.”
“But father I’m reading so here I shall stay.”
“Being so clever is great there’s no doubt,
But once in a while you need to get out.”
She said, ”Pater, please listen I’m happy to study,
And if I go out there’s a chance I’ll get muddy.”
That very night she was taken off guard,
She discovered a sum that was simply too hard.
She stomped round her room in utter frustration,
She just couldn’t do this quadratic equation.
Gnashing her teeth and tearing her hair
She kicked out in temper at her teddy bear.
It flew through the air and bounced off the wall,
So she kicked it again before it could fall.
It bounced off her head and then off her knee
And suddenly Millicent giggled with glee.
She continued all night to kick it around.
For hours she kept it from touching the ground.
In the following weeks she practiced some more
And saved all the money she earnt from her chores.
She went to the shop, bought a ball and some boots,
And learnt how to dribble and learnt how to shoot.
Every day after school she went to the park
And practiced her football until it was dark.
She continued to study the books and the sport
And paid close attention to all she was taught.
13 years later Miss Smyth is delighted
She’s the first girl in history to play for United.
Where has dad gone, momma dear?
Hush, my little lamb.
Your dad's gone to the thicket dear
And mad old Abraham
That man went early this grim morn, and took his sharpened knife
And with him took his own first born, to offer up his life
With servants and with firewood, both, they journeyed to Moriah
And on the hillside there they built an altar and a fire
And Isaac, when he heard the plan, went willingly, it's odd
That he should let that daft old man, so worship his cruel god.
Your father, he was passing by, and heard but could not see
And foolishly could not deny his curiosity
So closer did your father scramble peering through the thorns
Unaware of how the brambles tangled with his horns
Just to see a crazy man who planned to kill his kin
Your father did not understand the danger he was in
For then again that mad old man started hearing voices
His god was speaking to the loon and giving him new choices
And so his plan to slay the boy came about to falter
And Abraham, he took your pa and dragged him to the altar
But that was never fair, mama, can you tell me why
When Isaac he was all prepared and well prepared to die
And all had been decided on, so what cruel trick mama
Was played upon that grand old ram, who was my own papa?
Life is not fair, my little lamb, nor is it like to change
And fate plays tricks on all of us, both sinister and strange
So you take care, my little lamb, with this advice from me
Do not visit places where you know you should not be
The moral of this story dear, is take heed of the odds
And stay away from two-leggies worshipping their gods
Young Father Murphy, Parish Priest,
he rang Archbishop Moore,
advising him he suddenly
had taken rather poor.
"I'll not be fit for Sunday mass
as I'm confined to bed,
I'm hoping please your Eminence
you'll do it please instead."
"Good Father Murphy say no more,
for you should never doubt,
the willingness of love my son
to help a brother out.
So have no fear, your flock is safe,
I’ll shepherd it with love
and while confined you should confer
with him who is above."
Then as the cock crowed Sunday morn
good Father rose in haste
and gathered all his golfing gear,
there was no time to waste.
He parred the first and second holes,
his cheeks were all aglow,
when up in heaven Gabriel saw
the sinful priest below.
He took the matter higher up
for justice must be served.
The LORD said, "I've been watching son,
it's not gone unobserved."
The third it was a par three hole,
so Father gave it some,
his ball it lofted in the air
and Murphy holed in one.
Poor Gabriel he just looked in awe ...
the LORD sensed he was vexed;
How justice had been served that day
had Gabriel quite perplexed.
"Dear Gabriel it may seem to you
the priest has gained the most,
but when it's said and done my son,
to whom will Murphy boast."
Mamma Anna made the best Babba' al Rhum,
you should have seen me how it made me slightly drunk;
and jumping and screaming I danced to the beats of a drum...
then grandma joined in and she sang a classical song!
And the sweet cream was on my lips and cheeks,
the Babba' al Rhum was delicious and I topped it with chocolate;
everybody began shouting, "It came from Paris,
but we Neapolitans reinvented it by improving its shape and taste!"
Mamma Anna made the best Babba' al Rhum, soaking it in that liqueur much longer;
and Papa' always told me to eat more of it...saying with a suppressing laughter,
"It's a man's dessert, after you eat it, you'll be strong!"
Oh, did he really tell me the truth? No, he was wrong!
It's so very sad that they aren't here,
and I am eating pretzels and drink a beer,
the harmony that stirred their passion can't possibly return...
as they danced on the terrace to celebrate the day I was born!
Mamma Anna knew how to make the best Babba' al Rhum,
and I licked the dripping rum with my finger...not my tongue!
She spoke calmly...when she should have gotten mad and picked up a broom;
no, she was never mean and rude, or ever said to me, " Go to your room!"
I fell in love again
Yea! Yea! I know after the last love pain.
But this won’t go wrong, it’s… with … a man so it’s not the same
He loves me… I think…
He gave me a little wink
I was hooked from the first time I saw him
Ok… I know how it sounds and how it may seem
But when I stared into his eyes
I was weak and boy you should see his size
I bet he will make any woman quiver
I saw one woman, when she saw him, you would actually see her shiver
I know that this love is the one
Yes men out there, you ask, How can a man love another?
Instead of having me heart broken, in this case I would rather
Anyway this man, is special… he is the one
He ladies and gentleman is my new born son… ?
*Born 11 November 2010, Matthew Ethan Hall
How do I know he is mine?
He is well hung with big…well he is a Hall after all*
I’m a man
In case you couldn’t see
I don’t use the word “poopie”
And I’m addicted to TV
I’m a man
Who doesn't have time to bleed
But who still has compassion
For blind, busty women in need
I’m a man
Who isn’t defined by “it”
Though affectionate enough
To scratch a public itch
I’m a man
Driven by real adventure
Falling asleep on the sofa
Still wearing my dentures
I’m a man
A wild stud in full bloom
Waiting in the Jacuzzi
Picking my Fruit of the Loom
I’m a man
Who hates to be mean
Crying in the bathroom
When it’s time to clean
I’m a man
Nothing more or less
A mountain of masculinity
Who never ceases to impress
Mama and Daddy was always Love-Dovey
She is His Sweetheart – He is Her Honey
First Love… Real Love - Forever True
Pa… I Pray to find A Man Like You…
Daddy Laughed and Put His Arm Round My Shoulder
And Said, “I’ll Tell You Somethin’, Now You’re Older
It’s got to do with Your Mother’s Fame
And Why I gave Her, The Nickname…
… Boot-Legged Mama
Blue-jean Shorts and Vintage Tony Lama
Walked thru the Door… of A Liquor Store
… Packaged so Pretty… Pa Just had to Pour
… Boot-Legged Mama
Ma… Was there, to get 6-packs for A Party…
Pa… Was there, ‘cause of a Taste for Bacardi
He took One Look and Knew He Couldn’t Waste Her
Pa… Gave-up ‘Drank’… Just so He Could Chase her !
Dad, Said, ‘He’d Drowned in Dark-Eyes and Sweet-Aroma
Fine-Wine, Crystal… But Tuff’ Nuff’ to Down-Drama
Pa Claims, Mama’s Labeled by the F.D.A.
And Listed on Her Driver’s License is, A.K.A. …
… Boot-Legged Mama
Genuine Woman, Who Made Him Wanna’
Take Her to be His Lawful Moonshine
… Married at Midnight – ‘cross The County-Line
… Boot-Legged Mama
Alcohol’s in Trauma; and Prohibition Told Her:
"Boot-Legged Mama… Done Drove Pa Sober !"
Now, Homemade-Hooch… is His Acquired Taste
180 Proof… Kicked All Over His Case !
Right Then, Mama Flowed into The Room
Pa, Teased and Said, “Still Full-Bodied and Perfumed !
Ma Hugged Us, then Handed Me – Old Boots and A Dress…
(and good advice)… “Go Git’ My Elliot Ness…
… and be a Boot-Legged Mama!
( Hey !... Did I Hear Somebody, In A Country Drawl ….
Order Up A Bottle of Kicking Alcohol !
Well, Here She Is… Y'all ! ...
Boot-Legged Mama ….
Well John (Moses) Freeman... You Said You Needed
Somethin' :) to Read tonight, before kicking up your
heels... Well, Here It Is (Have Fun - Son)
(Thank You For All Your Wonderful Comments
Now, I Can't Get Thru The Door for My Ego.. (Smile)
Dad is not perfect, but, a wonderful man;
He’s honored by his wife, daughter and son.
Whether a naughty girl or an angelic boy,
He’s ready to buy a gift or make a toy.
Dad is whom you want to be with,
When you’re down or you’re in need.
He is always there for you, giving hope;
And loses his temper when you’re in dope.
Dad was born, indeed, to make us laugh;
Especially, when he shares his funny stuff.
In one’s heart, he leaves his memories;
A true friend, a brother, a man of peace.
So this is what dad means to me;
Am I ready for this? Let me see.
Hmm, I’m thinking; nope, I pass.
I’m old, just 90. You boys don’t rush.
I do not know?
A young son, a father and a donkey journey across the land
The father rides upon the donkey
They walk through rain, sunshine and hot sand
A villager yells from the top of her voice
“Selfish boy, let your poor father ride, get up and stride”
So he did as he felt he had no choice
Hours past and they went to a stall for a refreshing drink
“That poor donkey carrying your weight, you should get off him don’t you think?”
Everyone in the bazaar looked and shook their head
The father got off and they both walked instead
They struggled along the sandy dusty breeze
They heard laughter coming from behind the trees
“Fools”!It was a group of schools girls laughing as they talk
“They have a blooming donkey and those idiots still walk!”
More children gathered to join in the fun
They paused and thought what should be done?
By the time they thought of the solution everyone had gone
The moral of the story is you can’t please everyone
As related by my father;
Once, long ago,
he rear ended a cop car
Not a happy thing you know...
The cop had stopped short
But he wasn't the sort
To admit what he ought
He could find little reason
for legal action,
So he sought another sanction
He had my father tested
by a mental doc
Who asked stupid questions
You know that crock...
His defining question,
"What would you do if
you saw a flying saucer?"
Unflinching, my father replied,
"I'd shoot it down with my
The doc scoffed,
"And where'd you get
Quick as a whip, he replied,
"The same place you got your
Dancing all around
Frolicking through fields
Just like you!
To Hurt to say,But I'm sorry.
Do you know how much it hurt.To see you disappear from a memories I have yet recalled.Your heart so ice cold there's nothing I can do for it.
Let me touch your chest and feel the breeze that escapes from if.
Did you know that with ever king there are rebels who dares chain him down.
Everyone person can life is determined by they way the express themselves.
And anyone can forge a fake life to get away and hide from their reality.
I'm going to be you reality has my hand reaches your face let me show you what it means to be hit by reality and take it seriously.Hopeless,Agony,Fear,Terrified, Corrupted.
I haven't had enough of your ego,of your smile,the lies that surround you.
Ha! let me see you fall and crawl don't beg it unsightly but crawl for you are the man the shadow man.
Cling to me as i show you the grief and fear and anger I have of losing you,the only thing connecting me to you is the blood I waste on the ground in the night time wake.
Watch it fall as I cut deeper.How many times did I cry for you and you never even cared enough to answer me?
Your faceless,heartless,cold eyes let me thank you.
Your turning my to stone your helping me write these disgusting feeling down every night.
You gave me something so powerful not even you could destroy them now these hands of course.
As I drink this to ease my pain and free my self of this relapsing phase.Let me be happy let me be sad let me mad let me become depressed for I'm so bipolar it hurts.
How dare you trampled my pride and toss me around like a lifeless doll...Was I really your luggage you tried to throw away?
Be honest lies don't work no more for I've see everything everyone as danger has liar beggar and theive coming after me.Thank you for being my venom.
I'm sorry if I hurt you I never meant to.
Would you forgive me if I laid down to rest and not wake up again?
Please tell me.I can't help but feel like something useless in this wild game of tag and empty felt.It hurts you should know,So don't take to much time and tell me how you feel.
At least then I can dance with you.
***NOTE~TO BE READ WITH A RIDICULOUS "SILKY SOUTHERN DRAWL" (have fun:)***
"Storm over yet...?"
"Well hay'ell ye'ah!
sum'body git me a da'gumm cole beer.
whadda'bou that boy th'er?
sum'body git him'a cole beer too!"
"Diddy! that boy ain't nothin' but 8 years old!"
na'I don't give a jolly'durn, if he ain't nuttin but 8 year'owed!
'dat boy dun' sat him thr'ew a big ol', storm!
torna'durr warnin' too!
he gonna have him'a cole burr;
mama, git him'a cole burr!
ta'days father's day!"
© 2011 ~JSLambert Esquire
It’s funny how my father’s hobby became mine. He has been a sportsman all his life, he played basketball, volleyball and softball all his youth, but his real passion is soccer and even though he is 55 years old now, he still keeps playing it and loving it. He has had all kinds of cleats, all brands, all colors, different styles, but it does not change anything, he still plays amazing. But one thing I do find hilarious is that every time he comes from a game, he cleans his cleats, he washes them and takes them with such an unbelievable affection, that I’m beginning to think that he might love them more than he loves me, but now I do know the feeling of a new shiny, hard and beautiful pair of cleats. I still recall when he took me for my very first pair, I could not believe he was doing it for me, I was so excited, but now I realize that what I was excited about is that I could be like my father for just a moment when I had them on. Ever since I was little, I remember my daddy playing soccer, leaving home all dressed up, ready to fight, and win the ball to make a remarkable roll on the field. The playing field that we both love, the field all covered in grass, all green, so delicious and soft, so colorful… being crashed by everyone’s cleats and the rolling ball, feeling the sunlight on our skin, and the wind on our faces. Having a team, an extra family with whom we could find support and create new ideas, new plays so we could smash the opponent. So yes, I loved watching him play and cheering him up more than I could ever like watching official and famous soccer teams. I do find funny the fact that my father’s hobby became mine since everyone says we’re too similar, and even though he also has a son, his daughter is with whom he shares that connection. I love the fact that our simple relationship was started thanks to such a manly sport, and curiously, to transform me into such a girly girl.
—on daddy’s laptop,
You’ll never guess whom the cat drug in; have a day where you just couldn’t win?
He came strutting in, smacking his gum loud, dressed to the nines Goth Punk style.
Tats trailed down his left arm, with my notice, he said, saving up for the other arm.
When ask about drugs, his answer to me was: “Yes, I’ll share” most invitingly…
Metal adornments on ears, nose, and lips, didn’t want to know, the all of it, at this.
As I noticed, he smiled most cattily, asking: ‘Want to see where else they might be?’
Hair a Mohawk with a trail down his back, colors of the rainbow, left nothing to lack.
Steel studs on a black leather butt, said, ‘Bite Me!’ with each and every staged strut.
What are you kidding?… Do my eyes me deceive, or did he just make a pass, at ME?
No Way! I’d rather drop kick him from my office fast, didn't he have any real class?
The application, a Sales Manager Job. Who would try to send me over the deep end?
Bet it had been a practical joke, beginning to end, so I simply held on, my friend.
He must've read my face, forhe smirked, I continued to ask for his list of experience.
His experience was none, but he said he managed his I-tune collection, very well.
Of course, he was the Leader of his ‘Chat Room’. I wondered, ‘Who could tell?’ GEE!
Also an impressive set up on his Facebook page, for his innumerable video games.
I ask how he was qualified for ANY job? Said, Dad ‘THE CEO’ wanted him employed.
I verified this with a call, was told not to be too Harsh, he had Potential, after all...
Ask what job he wanted to give his son? ‘Let him chose himself’, came the real clue!
Ask him, what job he really wanted to do, ‘VP in charge of Recreation’ was imbued.
Said he'd check out all the great places, in his Dad’s fancy Porche. Honestly True!
I kid you not! And he wanted his girlfriend, made into his secretary, Yah! No Doubt!
Believe it or not, he got all he thought he was due. All approved by the CEO’s! True!
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better… I began to really reconsider…
Really, who had been clueless… It hadn’t been him!… Which left me in a dither…
Knowing I just couldn’t win! I’d be glad when this day was finally, truly, done…
The kid had probably thought this a great joke on me from beginning to the end!
My perfect job, had just come undone! Apparently, being in HR isn’t always fun!
My college degree, that took so much sacrifice, no longer sparkled, so much to me.
Boy did I now WISH, I was a CEO’s SON! As I simply got all the paper work done.
Later, I saw the family portrait on the CEO’s desk. Lucky me! One down!…
Only eight more to go!
Carol Eastman and Hubby
If it is off, I must turn it on.
If it is on, I must turn it off.
If it is folded, I must unfold it.
If it is a liquid, it must be shaken, then spilled.
If it a solid, it must be crumbled, chewed, stepped on or smeared.
If it is high, it must be reached.
If it is shelved, it must be unshelved.
If it is pointed, it must be run with at top speed.
If it has leaves, they must be picked.
If it is plugged, it must be unplugged.
If it is not trash, it must be thrown away.
If it is in the trash, it must be removed, inspected, and thrown on the floor.
If it is closed, it must be opened.
If it does not open, it must be screamed at.
If it has drawers, they must be rifled.
If it is a pencil, it must write on the refrigerator, monitor, or table.
If it is full, it will be more interesting emptied.
If it is empty, it will be more interesting full.
If it is a pile of dirt, it must be laid upon.
If it is stroller, it must under no circumstances be ridden in without protest. It must be pushed by me instead.
If it has a flat surface, it must be banged upon.
If Mommy's hands are full, I must be carried.
If Mommy is in a hurry and wants to carry me, I must walk alone.
If it is paper, it must be torn.
If it has buttons, they must be pressed.
If the volume is low, it must go high.
If it is toilet paper, it must be unrolled on the floor.
If it is a drawer, it must be pulled upon.
If it is a toothbrush, it must be inserted into my mouth.
If it has a faucet, it must be turned on at full force.
If it is a phone, I must talk to it.
If it is a bug, it must be swallowed.
If it doesn't stay on my spoon, it must be dropped on the floor.
If it is not food, it must be tasted.
If it IS food, it must not be tasted.
If it is dry, it must be made wet with drool, milk, or toilet water.
If it is a car seat, it must be protested with arched back.
If it is Mommy, must make her dirty
If it is sibling, must slap,kick,and fight.
If it has four legs, must squeeze tight until makes noise
If big person is on phone, must make lots of noise
If tv is not on cartoons, scream until they are
If food is not good, throw it, refuse to eat it and cry until big people give you something good
Everyone is dressed just right,
with our smiles slapped on tight,
we are having a family dinner.
The mood is tense,
yet we have to make sense,
and we can always talk about the weather.
We blow kisses and show our love,
everything is just right.
We shower praises over each other,
and pray that the night is over without a flight.
Ignore the bitter-in-law,
she needs some sugar.
She vowed to deny herself happiness,
since she lost her lover.
Pay attention to the chatty uncle.
He claims to be rich although he eats like a savage.
just nod your head and seem interested,
and hope the topic does not turn to marriage.
Sit away from the young brother,
once an answer to his question, he is on to another.
To the old man he asks,"So what do you do?"
and to the orphan child,"Where is your mother?"
The room is beautiful, the food is delicious,
a night with our near and dear.
This could well be the perfect family dinner,
but only the flowers in the room seem real.
I wish I could be a fly on the wall,
When my poor old mother gets the phone call,
“He’s here at the bar
Quick bring us your car,
Your husband just got in a brawl”
Springtime fills the air,
like laughing gas.
(Or maybe more like whiskey.)
The suburbs are drunk on the nectar of it's dawn.
are starting to dance.
(Or maybe they're just wobbling.)
They vomit whole families onto their lawn.
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV:
Confused and intrigued,
with a slight urge to pee.
The father cuts grass,
like a sleepwalker.
(Or maybe more like a zombie -
Ravenous for cheap beer, instead of brains.)
A six pack later,
he starts washing his car.
(Or watering his driveway.)
He's spreading on wax so he's set when it rains.
The mother kneels in dirt,
tending the garden.
(More like digging in a sandbox.)
Her spade is rusty. (Figuratively, at least.)
A sunset later,
she cooks family dinner.
(Or maybe orders some pizza.)
(If every mouth is fed, she can call it a feast.)
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV.
The son plays war games,
dying for fun.
(Or maybe more for practice.)
He whines about fruit drinks, as well as the heat.
A full pitcher later,
tweaking on sugar,
(Or maybe just corn starch.)
the war escalates, 'til its time to go eat.
The daughter makes a picnic,
inviting her toys.
(Or maybe not.)
(Her plastic spread can only spread so thin!)
After the tea time,
she's off picking flowers.
(Or maybe weeds.)
(As long as they're pretty, there's a vase that they'll fit in.)
They gather, as a family, at the table to say grace.
They hold each others' hands and say, "Amen."
(And proceed to stuff their face.)
The dog sits by the boy -
Loyal and true.
(Or maybe just hungry.)
He drools as he stares from the corners of his eyes.
he offers to help with the dishes.
(Or maybe he demands it.)
The boy sneaks him a bite. The dog is not surprised.
Bedtime comes soon after.
The kids are sent to brush their teeth.
(Or maybe just to run the sink.)
They put on their jammies, and to bed, they go.
After tucking them in,
the parents watch TV.
(Or maybe they just dream they do,
sleeping in its glow.)
The dog is changing channels,
looking for a better show.
Confused and intrigued,
he pees on the carpet below.
As my father in law's Alzheimer's progressed he became very concerned with the contents of his wallet. We gave him a pretend credit card, fake money and his driver's license. It made him happy.
My first wallet had a cowboy hat on the face and stitching around the side,
It was stamped in gold lettering as being made from genuine split rawhide.
It carried whatever few coins I had then it zipped my money to safely guard,
And in the ID slot I stuffed my Hopalong Cassidy Jr. Deputy Sheriff card.
My next wallet was one that my father gave to me when I found summer work,
I now had a couple of bucks to stash and my new driver’s license was a perk.
My bride gave me a wallet for my birthday when we were just newly wed,
She wrote a note that she put inside, “let’s fatten this up” is what it said.
So it became fattened with pictures of the kids that made up our family,
And to those photos I added the grandkid’s as grandpa became my identity.
This father’s day I got a wallet and my daughter made two cards to use for my ID,
The first one says that if this wallet is found please return it to room 237 for me.
I don’t know why she made the other one, why I need it I haven’t got a clue,
It explains to anyone that if I am found please take me back there too.
Happy Father's Day Mom,
Without you this day would be,
This day just would not be.
Dad is great, don't get me wrong,
I think that he is grand.
He's always there to play some game,
Spend time or lend a hand.
He taught me how to cast a line,
When we go out fishing.
He taught me how to speak my mind,
That there's no gain in wishing.
I don't think I'll e'er repay,
All that he's done for me.
I know for sure in all the world,
There's no one just like he.
I'd like to give him something,
To show there's none like he;
But you already did that,
On the day you gave him me.
fried chicken is good
with rice and beans and butter
ice cold glass of tea
and some football action for me
Dedicated to my darling daughter. Lisa Maree, the kindest girl in the world
Lisa Maree, you baffle me
You just don’t seem to care
You throw your money all around
And people who won’t share
Will try to take you for a ride
And you can’t always see
What some folk try to do to you
You’ve too much trust in thee.
Lisa Maree, it’s plain to see
That you’re a special girl
Though sometimes you go off on one
And mind goes in a whirl
Your heart is gold, pure solid gold
You’re as soft as heated honey
You have a sense of humor too
You even think 'you’re' funny.
Some might find you hard to take
These fickle kinds of folk
Will run you down for being you
And treat you like a joke
But fickle folk don’t mean a thing
You’re far above the rest
When you are helping someone out
That’s when you’re at your best.
23 August 2013 @ 1817hrs
As a new father I coached my little league son
He was clumsy and uncoordinated
Picked dandelions in the outfield
Watched bumble bees fly and hum
Would run to a grounder and watch it stop
pick it up to throw it but it would drop
He enjoyed his team mates for they were friends
He struck out more than hitting the ball
Funny thing was he would always run whether he did or not
How I wanted him to hit the ball so hard
Perhaps a grand- slam homerun for him and my heart
But the greatness was in him- he was part of the team
His greatest joy was afterwards
When we’d all go get ice-cream
Naughty little brother hitting people just for fun,
Soppy little sister snuggles up to harassed mum,
While other sister Lesley thinks she’s in a royal court,
And “Ten Ton Tim” throws the tennis balls he’s bought,
One hits little Lesley on the head with quite a force,
She storms off to her room, in a nark again of course,
She slams the door behind her once she’s made her way upstairs,
And then there’s the twins, I know that trouble comes in pairs,
Michael’s riding Richard with his undies on his head,
While Craig from down the road is wearing swimming trunks instead,
“Ten Ton Tim” then offers the other boys a fight,
One which probably won’t finish until very late at night
“You and Craig onto me!”; a tempting offer to the boys,
Who start to rush towards him brandishing their army-toys,
Lesley reappears from the dark behind the door,
Intending not carry on moaning any more,
Dad is quite sensible at stays at work ‘til dark,
I think it’s more crowded here than in Noah’s Ark.
Mother calls for quite but the noise just carries on,
‘Til Craig suggests they go to his and then the rabble’s gone!
(Written at the age of 9 or 10)
< Well Lets See
If This ~ Will
Work Out For
All Wonderful W
Dads Here At Soup E F
I H N I
W A E S
I P C H
S P I I
H You All A Y N N
F H A G
A E P
T R O
H E L
E I E T O CATCH
R S F S
S D A Y So I S H E M O
< Coco was his name
Spider monkey all the same
Dad worked for zoo
Feeder of Coco too
Brought the little guy home
Boy did Coco love to rome
Droppings here and there
Mom covered up his dairy - air
Shoulders he did seek
Knocking younger ones off their feet
Bananas and salted nuts
Made Coco dance and strut
Each day a animal of new
Dad brought home from the zoo
But the one I'll remember the most
Was coco who shared my daily toast
Como Park Zoo
St Paul Minnesota
Coco And Daddy
Can You Imagine
A Monkey Playing
With 10 Kids LOL