Public Posts Seattle, WA Seattle, WA (zoom)

It's been extremely difficult,
especially for me,
I keep hearing, "Tie a yellow
ribbon around the old Oak tree."

I see others,
who look like me,
there being no difference,
is what I see.

Is preferential treatment,
for the lunch bunch,
at breakfast, dinner
and for lunch.

An elite group,
I think not.
A clique in retirement,
not what I want.

Ducks will waddle,
chickens will dance,
turkeys will gobble,
doves will romance.

Crows will caw,
bluebirds will sing.
Get too close
they'll take to wing.

An RKO, red wagon,
all shiny and red,
fun to play with
once out of bed.

A wagon, all full
with new toys
to play with, for
young girls and boys.

A dog and a mule,
we're taking a walk.
There was a conflict,
The dog wanted to talk.

It seems his new neighbor,
was a long-haired kitten,
who the dog had
become quite smitten.

Tell me my friend,
What is wrong, you see?
I like this kitten,
but she doesn't like me.

The mule thought long,
then said with a smile,
perhaps, the kitten.
likes not your style.

What do you mean,
not liking my style?
I am the most handsome
she has seen in a while.

Surely you jest,
said his friend the mule,
did you think you're wise,
or are you playing the fool.

I think I am
handsome and wise,
considered a good catch
by all of the guys.

The kittens not a guy,
You should know that by now.
If you want to impress,
You should learn to Meow!

Once upon a time,
in a land,
West of In Between,
there lived an
old man, who was nice,
and seldom was he mean.

He had no wife or
children, of which we knew.
If he did, they were inside
his dream.

He loved to talk, a lot
to all those he met,
but only in his dreams,
for he lived a lonely life,
in the land West of In Between.

The Sun would shine,
throughout the day
and rain was seldom seen,
for life was pleasant, in the
land West of In Between.

Animals played amongst
the fields, so wide and green,
as life was somewhat odd,
in the land, West of In Between.

What words could I write,
about someone, who wasn't mean,
who wasn't heavy, or thin to see,
perhaps he was just in between.

Stories he told about,
his life's work and his constant dream,
was to be the leader, in the
land, West of In Between.

A jumbled mess
of words appear.
I desire clarity,
I see a smear.

A smear of color,
from inside.
I'm now confused,
both far and wide.

My head is clogged,
with too many words.
Nouns, verbs, adjectives,
and a bunch of adverbs.

Some paragraphs here,
a sentence or two.
The kaleidoscope of words,
belong in a word, letting zoo.

Dumb are the words,
coming from my head.
Funny in nature,
saying them, I dread.

An exercise in futility,
everything, above all.
Doing it this way,
I'm sure I will fall.

To fall from grace,
knowing as we do,
makes me wonder
and think about you.

He rode a painted horse,
dappled, white and brown.
His daily adventure,
a trip into the town.

He rode a way,
to the pub he knew.
Drinking too much,
His horse knew what to do.

The horse, meandered
through darkest night,
taking him home,
under dismal starlight.

The moral of this story,
etch in your head.
Don't drink and drive,
ride a horse instead.

He met a girl
and was smitten.
Who would have thought,
it was a new kitten.

Time flows bye here,
quicker, when thee,
count in numbers,
one, two, three.