07.08.2021
There’s a tale that’s told
Out along the Gold Mile
Of a rough, woolly cowboy
And his fine crocodile
He rustles the cattle
Across trail and track
And sits atop croc
Yes, he rides on his back
And though you may doubt
That it’s true and sincere
I have seen it myself
And I’ve heard with my ear
As the cowpoke has yipped
As he’s hollered and driven
And the croc’s followed orders
Every one that he’s given
And together they gather
The cows from the plain
The rough, woolly cowboy
And his croc with spiked mane
07.07.2021
Keepsakes, treasures
Chests and drawers
You can’t find their like
In these modern-day stores
So I’m keeping all mine
And I won’t let them go
And it’s even quite likely
My collection will grow
So don’t try to dissuade me
I won’t hear a bit
My keepsake collection—
I will keep, and that’s it
07.06.2021
I saw a bird at the park
Named Feathers McGee
Who is really quite better
At b-ball than me
In his knee-high socks
And his Air Force 1’s
He looks just the part
Hitting J’s by the tons
And you want to know the best thing of all?
He’s a really good dunker
Even though he is small
He just spreads out his wings
And ascends in the air
And then jams the ball through
Without even a care
He never throws shade
He just lets his game talk
And man, he’s just magic
This bird with the rock
So I’m heading back down
To the park and we’ll see
If I get picked to play
With this Feathers McGee
07.05.2021
Captain John Cutter
A quite brave man
Has thrown his clothes
In the garbage can
When asked why he
Would make such a switch
He replied that the collar
And seams all itched
Not to mention the cuffs
Which were inches too thick
Or his shiny black shoes
With soles that would stick
Or his woolen topcoat
Which failed to breathe
Or his silken green vest
Which restricted his sleeves
“No,” he chuckled,
As he tipped up his brim
And that was the last
That I saw of him
07.02.2021
At the coffee shop right round the corner from here
They’ve hired an ex-NASA space engineer
I’m sure he is qualified, capable, too
But I’m not sure I’m ready to try out his brew
Yes, I stop in each day to order a cup
And my hope is to boost my energy up
But he’s counting down quietly as he moves ‘cross the floor
And I’m fighting the urge to run straight out the door
As I order I hope it’s not plain on my face
That I’m scared I’ll be blasted off to outer space