Short Mess About Poems

Love doesn't dash, it loiters - 
with repeated movements like music 
and beautifully crude endearments. 

Love does't dash, it lingers 
with rhythms like dance
and boastfully rude aphorisms. 

So dally my love - lollygag, 
lounge and we'll share breaths
and mess about....

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love doesn’t dash, it loiters
with repeated movements like music
and beautifully crude endearments

love doesn’t dash, it lingers
with rhythms like dance?
and boastfully rude aphorisms

So dally with me my love
lollygag, lounge and in a while
we'll share breaths and mess about...

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The virus be it chicken or pig
Do we not our own graves dig
Mess about with natures course
All we do is make things worse

Germs and strains mutate
Just what will be our fate
What are the scientists saying
When will man stop playing

Was not so long ago
The air was pure as snow
It is time to act not grieve
And clean the air we breath...

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When you are living on the street
depressed, lonely, hungry, and beat,
begging coins for something to eat;
you need more than a smile.

People scoff and offer small-change
labeling you as weird or strange,
treating you like you had the mange;
each day is a trial.

You pray someone will help you out;
a kind soul that won't mess about,
but wipe your tears and calm your doubt;
and go that extra mile....

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