GOALS IN THE MIST

Everyone wakes up with the purpose "to do,"

Things done before and things that are new,

And, we all make a list,

Goals in the mist,

But, when counted our achievements are few.

THE BAKER'S LIMITS

Four cakes are the most that I'll bake in a day,

I can bake twelve dozen donuts before I have to play,

I can knead ten loaves of bread,

Before my arms feel like lead,

And, with eight pastries I've filled up my display. 

THE BULGING DRIVEWAY

My concrete driveway is not at all flat,

In the middle it bulges up fat,

And, the ends are so thin,

About as thick as a pin,

They crumbled with just a foot pat.

ODE TO THE FOOD CHAIN ON THE FAR SIDE OF THE ROAD

Over there on the far side of the road,

There's a fish, two crawdads, a snake and a toad,

The crawdads are in the fish's belly,

In the toad's guts the fish gets smelly,

And, the toad's in the snake's jaws went the ode.

 

REMEMBERING MOM

Painting, pottery,

Rock garden, lily, iris,

My mom was once here.

THE TYPEWRITER BLUES LIMERICK

I'd take a typewriter over a computer if I could choose,

A typewriter's a delicate instrument I hated to loose,

But, along came the tech,

So, I said what the heck,

Now, I pine for my typewriter with blues. 

A LITTLE GORGON LIMERICK

Little Gorgon turned to stone,

Every singing baritone,

And, every soprano,

Backed up by piano,

Sang like bangs on a xylophone.

THE VENISON MAN

I have venison in my freezer, 

I have venison on my grill,

I've dried venison,

I've canned venison,

I've powdered venison and made a pill,

I eat venison for breakfast,

I eat venison for lunch,

I eat venison for supper,

And, the funny meal called a brunch,

I give venison to my friends,

I give venison to people I hate,

I give venison away at Christmas,

I serve venison on a first date,

My life revolves around venison,

I spend all day hunting deer in the woods,

At night I peruse Lord Tennyson,

Snacking on venison mixed with dry goods.

ROUGH TETHERBALLER

If tether-ball were an Olympic sport,

Then on TV I'd be on report,

For I always win,

I'd kick tall guys in the shin,

The rest? I'd ply them with French port.   

THE CUTWORM MADE ME EAT ICE CREAM

A cutworm cut off my tomato plants,

And, left the tops to wither and die,

Then, when I saw my dead tomato plants,

I began to cry and cry,

I planted those plants for a reason, 

To have tomatoes for my tomato soup,

Now, I'll have to just eat ice cream,

And, I don't have an ice cream scoop.    

I MET THE BEARS IN ALASKA

I went to Alaska to meet with the bears,

I stood up beside them for lacking, were chairs,

But, they were up to no good,

They chased me into the wood,

I guess they thought all creatures with meat, were theirs.

GATOR CHOICES

I wanted to retrieve a new red potato,

But, when I lunged downy my hand I drew up an alligator,

Now, the alligator was small,

But, my menu amounts was tall,

So, I changed my menu to chicken/tater.

THE UNEMPLOYED SHEPPARD

There weren't many spots on that leopard,

That made me unemployed as a Sheppard,

For he slew all of my sheep,

Left me nothing to keep,

Just mutton I ate after I peppered. 

GUEST POPULATION CONTROL VIA DINO APPETITE

If you find that among upscale socialites you're not a winner,

Then, invite a tyrannosaur to dinner,

He might traumatize,

But, it would be no surprise,

If your guest population became thinner. 

 

TIKI TORCH AND THE BEAR

My tiki torch burned down real low,
Until it was just a tiki glow,
But, it made mad a big bear,
For the tiki fouled his clean air,
And bear claws gave my tiki such woe.

MY FISHING LINE GOT CAUGHT UP IN A TREE

My fishing line got caught up in a tree,

I haven't done that since I was two or three,

My dad would retrieve the line with an ax,

But, now I will wane and not wax,

Indeed, A chainsaw works better for me.

THE WET WHISTLE FISHERMAN

My whistle was wet but, my fishing gear was all dry,

For I fell overboard when my aft turned awry,

Of course it was not a good day,

For my boat sailed away,

And, a shark ate me like a side order fry.

DAD'S RECOLLECTION OF HIS FATHER AT WAR

My grandfather fought in World War One,

He got gassed by the Germans and found out that war was not fun,

 And, for twenty-one days,

In the war's horrendous haze,  

"He was behind enemy lines," said his son.  

BUNYAN WENT SPITTING FROM THE MITTEN

Overtures to the waters that surround the great mitten,

For across these waters Paul Bunyan went spittin',

But, Bunyan spit way too far,

Hit the Dutch Royal Car,

It's good it weren't baseballs he was hittin'.

THE DIVINE LOOKING EDGES

I dreamed I had a haircut and my beard was cut so fine,

I got compliments for neatness by those not drinking beer nor wine, 

But, what is a dream?

Just a play with no scheme,

Besides, looking rough around the edges is divine.