Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Eye Trouble



















While fishing in Alaska,
Amongst the islands there,
I had a ton of fishing fun;
Even saw a grizzly bear!
Baiting hooks was my demise;
I had some trouble with my eyes,
So I bounced the old jalopy
Into town to find out why.
The doctor scratched his graying head
And pondered a solution.
I thought he was an eye doc
But he's an optical Aleutian!

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Darn'dest Thing I Never Saw!














I once heard of a lumber jack
Who got caught in the milling saw.
It cut his left side clean away;
His arm, his leg, his jaw.
Someone said that he survived
But I really don't see how.
If so, I know its been some time,
He's probably all right now!

S M @ L



















Henry Houdini, kid brother of Harry,
Stood only five-foot six.
Though not as flamboyant,
He was somewhat clairvoyant,
Amazing men with his tricks.

Clever young Henry, soared to prestige,
It seemed that his boat could not sink.
‘Til a Judge bought his yarn
And bet the whole farm;
Poor Henry wound up in the clink!

It took but an hour and Henry was free,
To this he’d left Harry in charge.
The cops felt most dire
So they hung up some flyers
That read, “Small Medium at Large!”

Monday, April 11, 2011

Walk a Mile in Their Shoes















Without remorse, he told the tale
Of willful acts of poaching.
And I, his friend, had balled my fist,
Preparing to reproach him.
But he went on to describe the time;
Nine siblings of meager means,
With no father to supply them bread;
The meat had stretched the beans.

A blue-haired girl in studded jeans,
Piercings adorned her face.
I scoffed inside at this punked out girl
Who had set herself so out of place.
And yet her clothes were modest and clean,
And she carried her head aloft.
Her apparel screamed, “PLEASE, NOTICE ME!”.
But her spirit was mild and soft.

We live in a world with billions of souls;
Diverse and dynamic and vast.
We must yet find a way to get along
If a peaceable world is to last.
Yes, in judging the acts of our brothers,
I profess we react too fast.
For each sinner yet has a future . . .
And every saint has a past! *

* Oscar Wilde . . .    "Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."