Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Goodbye, 2014

As usual, the world's a mess;
It always was, at my best guess,
A place we'd like to rearrange,
By making circumstances change.

We still have wars and poverty;
Without those two, where would we be?
We preach of peace, good will toward men,
And then we start to fight again.

At year-end's time, we try to cope
With what we have, but yet, we hope
For better times, as we pursue
Elusive dreams we hope ensue.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

If hippos were inclined to speak

If Hippo was inclined to speak,
Would he do so in Ancient Greek?
I wonder what he would discuss,
Our mighty hippopotamus?

His name, in Greek, means "river horse,"
(The river's where he bathes, of course).
The Hippo weighs about three ton,
When all his growing up is done.

Sir Hippo needs a lot to eat,
To keep his energy complete.
He dines with friends, on fields of grass,
Whole herds of them will graze, en masse. 


Sunday, December 28, 2014

A time to dance

Grasshopper was a happy girl,
Whose days passed in a pleasant whirl,
But summertime was growing short,
And fall was near, at last report.

She knew the frost would soon arrive.
Her shelves were bare, could she survive?
"Aha!" she thought, "I'll visit Ant.
She'll help fix things; I know I can't."

Grasshopper went to beg a loan
Of wheat, from seeds that Ant had sown.
Hard-working Ant had food in store
For winter's needs, but nothing more.


She bragged to Ant, that "Every day,
I sing, and dance my time away."
Ant said, "Now you will have a chance
To feed yourself; Can you still dance?"

Jean de la Fontaine
Translated from the French

Saturday, December 27, 2014

On nomenclature

What is fauna, what is flora?
I'd like to know what they're for; a
Topic with eccentric features,
Lectured on by high school teachers?
Funny names for cartoon creatures?
Tourists, visiting Andorra?

Sunday, December 21, 2014

On brewing a pot of tea

First, you ought'er
Boil some water.
Just so you'll know,
It could boil slow.
As in the past,
It will boil fast,
If the pot's hot;
Slow, if it's not.

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Celebrate the Solstice - Winter 2014

Tomorrow's the day; don't pass your chance up,
Solstice arrives: quaff egggnog, fill your cup!
Celebrate its return, shortest day of the year,
The longest night, but soon, spring will be here.

Solstice marks earth's passage, circling the sun,
The autumn's over, get ready for fun!
Winter begins; think of snow, think of ice,
Shoveling driveways, not one time, but twice.

What could compare to sky-high heating bills,
And cars that break down, or cold weather thrills
Like stocking supplies (the power might fail),
Or walking dogs, in the teeth of a gale?

The Solstice reminds us, just three months hence,
When our yearning for warm weather's intense,
We'll smile, see crocuses bloom by the door;
We love four seasons; how could we ask more?


Thursday, December 18, 2014

The zebra

The zebra's black and white. Of course,
His stripes proclaim he's not a horse.
In Africa, he wanders plains,
Avoiding people, trucks and trains.

He's well-versed in love zebraic,
Complicated or prosaic;
Young zebras like to vie with pals,
Competing hard for zebra gals.

Fierce lions often like to munch
On juicy zebra steaks for lunch,
But zebras feel it's quite unfair,
When lunch is something they can't share.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

The hoarder and the neatnik

She drove him wild; he married a hoarder,
A woman whose life seemed without order;
Order might be there on some cosmic scale,
But, proving that point? I think you would fail.

Her very best comfort zone was a cache
Of piles of junk mail, newspapers, and trash,
All over the house, wherever you'd look,
In every corner, every nook.

Obsessive compulsions take many forms;
Excessive neatness is one of its norms,
But hoarding's the other side of that fix;
Neatniks and hoarders are folks who don't mix.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

On being wrong

I just didn't know what I was doing,
When I thought it was time again to wed;
The precious jewel I was pursuing,
Turned out to be a lump of coal, instead.
I missed the mark with Numero Uno;
But thought I'd learnt my lesson well;
The worn cliche drives home a point, though;
The best intentions often lead to hell.
Oscar Wilde described the scope,
Why second marriage often fails;
Past errors fade, and we succumb to hope,
And let optimism tip the scales.
As actors in a still evolving play;
Perhaps our luck will change another day.