Family Plot
David J Walker
Grandfathers
Grandmothers
Sisters and brothers
Fathers and mothers
Lay beneath the covers of
Grasses and flowers
In parks platted for the souls
Of bygone times
The roles once played between the
Clocks eternal chimes now
Call to the stones growing at the head
Naming names
Telling the tales
Of the dead hours
Decorated in drying flowers
For the dying mourners
Of annual visits
Don’t fidget
mother whispers softly
As I mention her in my prayers
A fidget of a widget, is fidgeting again
A feisty little midget, is what she’s always been
Her given name is Gidget, a girl with a giggle
The very same as Bridget, a whirl in a wiggle
If Gidget is a fidget of a widget with a growl
And Bridget is a twidget with a midget for a pal
Then what about the gadabout who never seems to fit
The stupid lout you're mad about for acting like a twit
He probably is more like me than what I care to comb
For suddenly there seems to be no hair upon my dome
If I should chance by happenstance to catch a beam of sun
Then you may see a brand new me is medium well-done
The ones you pet will not forget the way that you are kind
They will not let the fun you get betray your peace of mind
If you will test your very best by what you say to Bridget
Then you will crest above the rest who pray to play with Gidget.
There was a girl named Bridget
who fell in love with a midget.
They got along fine
'cept at loving time
the best he could do was fidget.
Trump Tried To Fidget
Around Trump always tried to fidget,
While he even made fun of a midget;
Took a gamble;
Destroyed preamble;
Intelligence seemed to be single digit.
Jim Horn
Around…around…around they go;
plastic spinners in a row.
Day and night, they spin away;
little dervishes at play.
Children spin them constantly;
like little tops, so happily.
As planes spinning out in space;
they put a smile upon the face.
Colored chakras spinning free;
activating energy.
Ecstatic, super-charged rings;
spinning, whirling hyper-beings.
As they gyrate; help one grow;
we will learn, they create flow.
Electric generators wake the snakes;
they rise to dance as one is graced.
The spirit heals; bestows, uplifts;
levitating brings one bliss.
Colors brighten; bring the light;
to weary souls each day and night.
No fidgeting is needed here;
one releases all their fears.
Dharma opens many doors;
walk on through; the power’s yours!
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