Those Wh Had Died

Vent In Form of An Argument

Many people have heard started to vent,
By doing it in the form of an argument;
Things occurred,
That were blurred; 
From Trump could not obtain his consent.

Jim Horn

Those Who Had Died

What if God were to give me a gift,
That up my spirit would always lift;
Bring back to me,
So that I can see;
Through many souls started to sift.

Which one would I love the best?

If a train was going 80 miles an hour
that would be a total of 422,400 feet
in one hour. Based on that rate, this
would be 1,200 feet or four football
fields in a minute and 20 feet a second.
A brieg conversation between the
engineer and conductor could account
for quite a long distance.

Jim Horn

Trump and His Protocol

Apparently disturbing is Trump's protocol,
Each time that he did bother another doll;
He uses ship to shore,
To contact another whore;
She was a gorgeous girl who he does call.

Jim Horn

Horn Latin Haiku

All that they do say
As well as what they don't say
Es muy dulce.

Ashes of Our Son Jamie

Each river we see does have a tributary;
Out to sea ashes and water it will carry;
Saw birds swim;
Thought of him;
Made such a scene so pretty and very.

Jim Horn

Against Face Blew A Breeze

Against my face had blown a sea breeze;
Cold and together my knees did squeeze;
Both together each;
Heard gulls screech,
God stopped it when I asked Him please.

Jim Horn

Tribute To A Tributary

To a tributary let this become a tribute;
That cause certain things to bare fruit;
New dawn did appear,
And birds would hear;
Fish spawned and then by would shoot.

Jim Horn

Count Each Number To Slumber

As usual, I started counting each number,
Until I finally started to dream and slumber,
And I was bound,
To sleep so sound;
Sawed Z's like blades you use to cut lumber.

Jim Horn






God Has Love Divine

Instead of myself, others should think of,
And learn how to spread all of God's love;
Equally to give;
Longer will live;
He has sent His for everyone from above.

Jim Horn

Sexual On A Sectional

In living is where we have a sectional,
And have encounters related to sexual;
We were bound,
To play around;
Must admit our sins using a confessional. 

Jim Horn

Slowly Started to Shut

My eyes are slowly starting to shut,
And short poetry writing I must cut;
Then go to bed;
Dreams God fed,
About gofing and making a great putt.

Jim Horn

Bells Ringing Overhead

We heard many bells ringing overhead,
Which said once you will get out of bed;
Another breath took,
And each box shook;
Gifts Santa had brought from his sleigh.

Jim Horn

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017



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