I heard the Texan man's accent 
and shivers down my spine it sent 
I knew that every word he said he meant
and fearsome was his drawl

I almost tried to run away
but stayed to hear what he would say
I waited nearly half the day
but heard nothing at all!


her eyes were sapphires....

Her eyes were sapphires...

Set in a beach that was beset often by waves of grief. 

She drew her smile in the sand after every wave.
And after every wave... it was gone.

But her eyes.... 
Her eyes stayed.
Looking up at the stars she could never rise to.

Is this really poetry? no rhyme? or meter? let me know.


heading home.

I love the way the west wind blows.
A lion in a rage,
Except when I am biking home.
And he's not in his cage.


Wishing for snow

Arise and smell the coffee
And feel the shining sun
The snow is gently falling
And the day is almost done

The first snow of the season
Is the one I love the best
But when the winter drags on I
Get sick of all the rest 


what I did today

the bags of leaves are all lined up 
In neat and tidy rows

And even though I'm bundled up 
I can not feel my toes

a happy group of workers are
the men who are my bros

And now we'll go and dump em'
On the yards of all our foes!



Fling out the banner o'er the heads
Of sleeping children in their beds

And with the dawning of the day
Our new regime will be well under way

So rest! ye children, sleep the whole night through!
While we stay up all night and scheme for you!



I'll tell you everything I heard
I got it from a little bird
Just promise not to breathe a word
About the things I say

There was a man named Henry Stow
He drove the train, drove very slow
Because he wanted men to know
That HE could spoil their day

There was a man named Billy Stout
He hated sloth and loved to shout
So he began to shout about 
The slothful trains delay


Stout bought a gun and tried to use
It on the slothful train's caboose
Stow had a fit and had to choose
To speed up or to stay


Therefore, the train rolled in on time
And pulled right up, stopped on a dime
And not a single one did mind
That there was no caboose

BUT. this I know and know full well
Across the creek and oer' the dell
A man who's face doth bode unwell
Is surely on the loose!