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I’m going to give you a break from mediocre poems today and post a story of The early fifties when the US and USSR were sending monkeys and dogs into

      Challenge me teacher, Tho I cry out in pain. Challenge me teacher, Tho I take your name in vain. Challenge me teacher, Thru thing I don’t understand.

Lonely   Singles they’re called and sometimes yuppies Spent youth fighting wars or just being hippies Former foes fighting a common enemy called lonely With booze and white powder their

      One left by plane One left by train Doesn’t matter They’re gone just the same   Everything changes the first Time that they leave Childhood vanishes in

      Old windmill still beckons Of decades past it reckons. A noble purpose it had Pumping life’s blood water for Granddad.   Livestock would gather day after day

      Here lies his body but his spirit is gone What he once was he’s passed on. He learned as he climbed life’s ladder The material thing doesn’t

When you go to my web sight to read any of my posts there is a column to the right of the text that has titles to all posts on

It Always Happens     It always happens, sooner or later A declaration of independence they make From parents who’ve nurtured from infants so small These child-people who now know

I Work Outside   Winter comes and I’m out here Cold bites my toes and nips my ear. Nature slaps my face with it’s cold north wind Eight hours are

Forever Seventeen   Supper’s ready!  I declare Then I catch myself, he’s not there. Now he eats with the Lord, Eternally fed, God kept his word.   Late at night