Contributor Posts

Scrambled eggs and bacon,
Rye toast on the side,
Is my favorite breakfast
Or when I can't decide,
If Oatmeal is my fore,
On this morning bright.
I am so hungry
After a sleepless night.

Along the shores,
of the Great Lake's water,
there grew weeds and willow trees,
with long limbs touching the surface,
of the lakes body. There lived a
man, you might mention, if you knew
of his presence. Stood he tall and
unassuming; purveying all his domain.
Here he lived unprotected. Here he
would live his life again.
He was the Captain of his making;
A strength of one, who only knew,
his was the last recollection,
of his world, from which he grew.
Go you now, with soul so pure,
resist the evil, on this day.
Stay with us, with your strength,
in this land where you pray,
where we all of us now belong.
Stay the course, remain you here,
be the strength, be thee strong.

A mind
at fault,
a mind
at rest,
isn't good,
isn't best.

For hours he fought.
Four hours he thought.
For ever the light.
Foremost the sight.
Forlorn on this day.
Forgotten, I can say.

No more the evening napping,
or the crowds of people clapping,
as I left my home on the shore,
of the clear water of Lake Lenore.
(to be continued, perhaps)

I must be the proverbial,
old fool, of a man,
who's taken in, by others,
with a money making plan.
This story hasn't happened to me,
but I have received e mails,
directed to me so personally.
Promising riches, you can't believe.
Just send us some money
and the fortune will be,
put into your bank account,
your friend at the Embassy.

A fortnight ago,
it said in the book,
so I decided I should
take another look,
to determine casually
what did the word mean
or would I use it
in my next writing.
I looked up the word;
this is what I found.
"A period of two weeks,
used after the name of a day,
to indicate something will take
place, two weeks after, that day.

An exercise for the mind.
In Latin, the word "Porta",
means gate or door,
while the word, "Bella"
is the word for war.
My memories of Latin,
are not good, but poor,
so I best not write
about Latin words any more.

"Jumping on the Jim Jam",
throwing on the brakes,
we will rid this Country
of all those who hate,
for the life of our brothers
we do not control their fate,
to provide a fair environment
as it is, what we can make.

Another long hour.
A shot in the dark.
An hour of lost sleep,
When your life is stark.
I return to my bed,
Though I know there are
Words locked in my head,
Except for those words
Missing the letter "R".

Gazing out the window,
on this dreariest day.
Brings the realization,
Winter is here to stay.
Will this be a season
of rain, all of the day?
A season, so somber,
I need to say,
"Give us some sunlight
and many days without grey".

Word after word
drops from my head.
It's ten minutes to four,
go back to bed.
Get you some sleep,
fall asleep soon
or you will still be
sound asleep at noon.