PRETTY ANGEL IN THE SCARECROW

I dreamt I was a pretty angel, standing in a field of corn,

When I awoke, I was a scarecrow, and with rags I was adorn,

I saw corn bent over, none were straight,

A coming storm, foretold my fate,

A spinning cloud roared through the cornfield, making this scarecrow, unborn.  

TIM BLOWS THE SNOW LIMERICK

Tim blows the snow all winter long,

Wearing heavy cloths and a woolen thong,

He sings a jolly snowblower song,

One might conclude Tim is ding dong,

But if he blows my drive, I'll admit I'm wrong.

A POEM FOR ALL SEASONS

When I blow snow,

Away it will go,

I might be paid doe,

To buy a me a hoe,

For the garden, you know,

To keep the weeds low,

To make pickles grow,

So my plants don't feel woe,

Next, tie my shoes with a bow,

And the lawn I must mow,

Then I'll jump in my dingy and row, row, row, row.

BLOWING SNOW, A WINTER TALE

I gave the snow a big blow I'd say,

I blew the snow far, far away,

Over to the neighbors yard,

Whom, I knew weren't home today,

Blowing snow is a big job,

Which I did quite well anyway,

I cleaned the driveway out myself,

And had no one to pay.