Autumn means rest now.
The green harvest is gathered
And the barn is full.
Cornelius McGillicuddy
Conservative fuddy-duddy
Though he shortened his name to Connie Mack
Neither smoked, drank ~ or cut players any slack
___________________________________________
Connie Mack managed the Philadelphia Athletics major
league baseball (MLB) team from 1894 - 1950.
Many ages the old tower had stood
yet once it had been the very centre
of activity to all who enter
for centuries now the weather withstood
Witness to many battles all hard fought
many feasts and weddings held in its halls
and fine chargers housed within its stalls
yet now looking back it was all for nought
Time had taken its toll, now just a shell
ravaged by weather, could it be saved?
the man stood looking and his heart craved
here in this tower he would like to dwell
Work started it was long and arduous
slowly the tower returned to glory
with the new stone brought in from the quarry
at last done it now stood victorious
my first attempt at enclosed rhyme hope I
got it right
I came across an old desk in a dream
A message of significance – or so it seemed
Timeless solid wood covered in dust
Your mystery to uncover I must
Handmade relic of ancient times bygone
After centuries, your work`s still not done
Bridal bed upon which tales of life were born
Now you’re stood against the wall forlorn
It was not what you had, but what you did lack
That spoke in a code I felt I had to crack:
Numerous tiny drawers on both left and right
But some were missing - a curious sight
Empty space of something lost, or not yet written?
This mad dog of a question down to my bones has bitten
I`d like to think the desk is not old and useless,
But a work in progress enduring Time so ruthless
Tenants of the house do ceaselessly come and go
Each adding a new story about what they’d known
The work continues till all the drawers are filled
With life lessons learned the quest will be fulfilled
In the name of love
she makes the same old mistakes
every time he lies
but it's all the same
as she runs away with hopes
it'll work this time
Just to realize
love is whack in the heart of a woman
truly believing the lie of a man
he strips her of love
as she refuses to lie down and die
accepting a burning bleeding red rose
she stares at the stars
no longer evident in his dull eyes
wondering who is he saving them for
just to realize
In the name of love
she makes the same old mistakes
every time he lies
but it's all the same
as she runs away with hopes
it'll work this time
Not Enough Money for the Month
By Elton Camp
Many old folks thought they were secure
And could enjoy life in old age for sure
But when their portfolios went south
Found themselves down in the mouth
Even the money they struggled to save
Only a very tiny amount of interest gave
Rising medical costs and medicine bills
Only added to their many financial ills
So desperately-needed money to earn
Back to work some have had to return
The jobs they find are mainly low-paying
“Welcome to Wal-Mart” many are saying
No matter how much their feet may ache
To fail to smile and speak is a mistake
To continue to keep a roof over their head
Old people must work until they’re dead
Gotta have another cigarette.
Oh I worked in a cigarette factory
Foreman was a bit of a dillbury
Me old mate “a man of the cloth”
He’d persecute endlessly
Joe would load up his van
The foreman would make him reload
Joe didn’t worry cos he was a man
The foreman he was a cane toad
Foreman was trying to teach me to sweep
Would you think there was something to learn?
This is how the moron earned his keep?
But the thoughts of vengeance burned!
I’d been away for a week helping my dad with the muster
The cattle were all in the yard, I returned to work, yes a Bronco buster.
You’re sacked he said you’ll work one more week
I said you will work it for sure!
started throwing large cigarette cartons at him
saying tape em up fat boy , to annoy
He said I’m in charge, I said no you’re not
I’m in charge of you my fat boy
Manager came out I give him a blast
The man of the cloth laughed with joy
So they went to the bank and got my weeks wage
That I didn’t work there anyhow
Foreman looked like a siezure from rage
So I blew him a kiss the old cow
Don Johnson
I've lived life hard, I've lived life full,
I wasn't the type that stood around and shot the bull.
Every lesson I learned, I learned complete,
Life was good but it wasn't always sweet.
Rigging up drilling rigs and tearing them down,
Moving from county to county and from town to town.
Turning that drill pipe around and round,
Sending that pipe deeper and deeper into that old ground.
Searching for oil, searching for gas,
It was a way of life that is hard to surpass.
The work was dirty the work was hard,
And if you made it in one piece from payday to payday you could thank the Lord.
It's hard to explain but it gets in your blood,
Maybe we just swallowed too much of that nasty old drilling mud.
Only certain types of people can ever relate,
A place where you go to test your fate.
I'm a mighty lucky man and I've got the scars to prove it all,
The life I led, I wouldn't trade for the world, but it took some gall.
Although I wouldn't recommend it to anyone else, I personally miss those days,
Some of us born down here in Texas are a little mental, but it's just our ways.
She wanted a great big brand new house, among brand new other things,
and just to marry and be my spouse, she wanted great big diamond rings,
So I knew what she was about, when she wanted so much bling,
it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out, money was her thing.....
But you can't squeeze blood from a turnip, my ol' daddy use to say,
don't build bridges that burn up son, you'll need them again someday,
You're never too old to keep learnin', work hard to pay your way,
Keep a job and keep on earnin' son, ya know, Rome wasn't built in a day...
Well, she just wasn't the one for me, so she went on down the road,
and as far as I could see, she could carry her own dang load,
Yes, I'm so glad she's free, and she left my humble abode,
because she inspired this song to be, another one seeking gold,
But you can't squeeze blood from a turnip, my ol' daddy use to say,
don't build bridges that burn up son, you'll need them again someday,
You're never too old to keep learnin', work hard to pay your way,
Keep a job and keep on earnin' son, ya know, Rome wasn't built in a day.
On CD from Nashville...call 502-290-7524...if no answer...please leave message..thanks!
Standing on the old front porch, looking to the sky,
Thinking to hard on life, hearing myself sigh.
Thinking back to my younger days and how life seemed more fulfilling,
Maybe it’s just me, could be I’m getting tired and my old body ain’t willing.
But what I’m seeing in my mind is not a pretty picture,
How did things get turned around so quick, nothing anymore is for sure.
Are we really headed for the end, the picture looks pretty bleak,
We can’t afford to go anywhere, I squeeze my money so hard I heard it squeak.
There seems to be plenty of food it’s just you can’t afford to buy it anymore,
All of our businesses are headed for foreign shores.
We keep letting illegal aliens in and they are receiving more privileges than you or I.
What good are all the laws if we are not going to enforce them or even try?
If they want to work put them on chain gangs and let them work for freedom,
Make the price pretty stiff and see how many will come.
No more handouts to any foreign country, give them a taste of what they are selling.
Let them have a whiff of what we’ve been smelling.
Let being Mr. Nice,
Come with a heavy price.
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