You're the man.
You're the best,
except for Adam,
who went West.
Adam West then
was an actor playing Batman.
These crazy words,
ring in my ear.
Join me now,
have a beer.
Off we go,
into the rain.
Help me here,
I can't explain,
why I write
out words.
Weird they are.
Are you sure
this is my car?
It is yours,
told you before.
Here you are,
asking for more.

Why do we call
a knife a blade"
We can hone a blade,
meaning to sharpen, too.
I'm not sure about me
and I wonder about you.

Words can be soft
and words can be hard.
Hey! All you kids,
get out of my yard.

Tall ones,
short ones,
older ones too.
There was no attraction
until I met you.

Saturday night,
a new dance at the Grange.
Always the same music,
always a Square Dance.
Put on fresh clothes,
go look for romance.
Many young women,
older ladies too.
What was a young man,
supposed to now do,
but dance, dance and
dance some more,
until you had danced
a hole in the floor.

Why does daughter
sound like Otter?
Why does laughter
sound like after?

Time to go.
Time to say,
goodnight.
My eyes are
drooping now,
as lids start
to shutter,
back to bed soon
as I began to mutter.

I have written of words
and the role, which they play.
Words are only loose letters,
which we have in array.
Funny, the words,
we use every day;
Let's use an example.
Port is a word
used on a Sea coast.
In Latin it means, gate or door
or portal, an entrance.
Port, when used at Sea,
means your left,
it's plain to see.
Port, in the Navy
is always colored red,
or the color of wine.
Port can also mean to carry.
To carry or port, this object to me.

There once was a place,
which served the best food.
The quality of theirs's, measured
by the number of napkins used.
The quality of hamburger,
juiciest ones you see.
Oh, by the way,
the napkins were free.

A younger version of me today,
said, " when I get older and grey,
I will learn how to play,
this guitar, still in its case.
Now here I am, "old and grey",
with the guitar still in place,
while my arthritic fingers are sore,
and have difficulty playing a score.
Procrastination, is never a good thing,
fortunately for you I can't sing.

May what ever thoughts,
remain in my head,
unless they are specific
and need to be said.

If wheat has a germ,
can you become sick
or is it an expression,
like, "thick as a brick"?
"Don't put all your
"eggs in one basket,"
or is it, a "tisket a taskset?
When a door is ajar,
is it still a door?
If you close the shutter,
how do you throw up the sash?
Seem like doing it this way,
would bring a loud crash.

As my youngest Son,
is want to say,
"We all have an
expiration date, then go away."
An interesting thought, as I see,
a rapid approach to my senility.
Put a robe on my shoulder,
place me facing the Sun,
wipe the drool from my mouth,
and your day is now done.

A motely creature,
a holey Goat,
came to visit us
and eat what he could.
It was everything in his sight,
every plant and some wood.
Go away, Goat, let us be,
you're not included in our menagerie.
" I know," said the Goat,
"for I can talk, you see,
is that a Lilac bush
or just a small tree?"
"I'll be on my way, as you can see
for I didn't care for your hospitality."
With a shake of his head
and a flip of his tail,
he strode away from me.
He was an odd colored Goat
going away from me.

Do you think
Teddy Bears
fight at night?
Wouldn't it be
a wonderous sight?

There was always a closeness,
there was always a chance,
when your very first encounter,
was your very first dance
and would lead to a young lads
opportunity, for an awkward romance.

Why is my head
spinning with words?
Is something wrong?
Don't be absurd,
cries a thought
deep in my head.
Go back to sleep.
Go back to bed.

Sip from the nectar;
fruit from the vine.
Savor every moment,
while tasting all the wine.

A lost love,
a rendezvous.
You never showed;
somebody new?

When life is uncertain.
When the joy is gone,
will you still love me?
I'll sing a sweet song,
a song of redemption
is all that I know,
so without further adieu,
I dedicate this song,
directly to you.