My first foray into writing, surprisingly, was poetry. Here are some samples.


Sunshine Man

Did the sun come out today?
Its rays make the colors bright?
Have the children gone out to play?
Out of thought the black of night.
To be at play, to feel so free
To soar high on freedom’s wings
Alas it seems no more for me.
My wings clipped, useless things.

Does the warm sun touch your face?
Its heat make your heart glad?
Has winter gone, spring in its place?
New hope here to free the sad?
Such hope has not touched me.
My prison it still seems locked.
I must wait to be set free,
Have my place no longer mocked.

Is the full moon out tonight?
Its bright face shining in the dark?
Do the shadows now take flight?
Hope for those who need a spark
Like a promise to a weary heart.
I long for just a glimpse of it
Showing footholds so I can start
To find my way out of this pit.

Do you feel the weight I carry?
Know the source of all my pain?
I pray that hope won’t long tarry.
Help to stem the spreading stain.
The sun’s warmth I will again feel,
Nature’s palette once again see!
A welcome end for my long ordeal
Heart and flesh be once more free.





Hippos

Two hippopotamus flew up into a strawberry tree,
Fled up to their nest when they were scared by me.
“Please come down you’ve no need to be afraid
Your cubs are all safe in the nest you made.
I heard you both singing in the dead of night
As you skipped along in the pale moon light.
I didn’t mean to scare you as I ran down here
But your colors are so bright I had to get near.
So please, please come down and let me see
The feathers on your tails, yes all three!
So come on down, see I stretch out my hand
It’s the perfect place for one of you to land”
They just looked down from that tree in the park
But when I tried to get closer they started to bark.
So I went home disappointed in what I had heard
You know a Hippo is really a very strange bird!





Buggy on the Street

Buggy on the street clack, clack, clack.
Straw-hatted children looking back.
Moving so slowly with cars stuck behind
Driver shows no emotion, he doesn’t mind.
Soon the cars are passing one by one
Some drivers cursing, others having fun.
Tourists in cars pointing, faces bright,
It’s Amish in a buggy, oh what a sight!

Look a team of horses working in the field
Guided by the ploughman, doesn’t seem real
Why would people do that in this age?
Like their history’s stuck on an earlier page.
Maybe they’re workers putting on a show,
Just like Williamsburg – actors, you know.
Or maybe just people living a simpler life.
Something to discuss for you and your wife?

Shopping for groceries, woman dressed in black,
Folk whispering and pointing behind her back.
Novelty for tourists? Why else dress like that?
So much misunderstanding it could fill a sack.
She’s learned to ignore them, every day the same.
A child of her religion and of her family name.
Here in Pennsylvania her people have a home.
Here at least the media will leave them all alone



Brother Jim (not for the young). Based on old English ditty.

To market to market went old brother Jim.
Where somebody threw a tomato at him.
Now tomatoes are soft so they can’t hurt a man.
But this one it did, it was still its the can!

One night in December old Jim had an idea.
He would go into town to spread Christmas cheer
It did not cross his mind he could possibly fail
‘Til he ran down a drive with a dog on his tail

Old Jim went a walking one day in the spring.
And dear brother Jim he did a daft thing:
He tried on a beret that he found in the grass.
It was not made by hand but from a cow’s ___!

Old Jim went a milking one bright summer day.
But poor brother Jim he did not know the way.
He pulled on the tail instead of a tit.
Soon dear brother Jim was covered in ____!

Now Jim has a sister they call Little Nell.
A beautiful girl if you don’t mind the smell.
She chews lots of garlic to improve her breath.
If she ever met a vampire she’d breathe it to death!

Old Jim has a girlfriend a lady named Flo’.
A kindlier lass you never could know.
She’s kind to small animals, or would be anyway.
If one look at her face didn’t scare them away!




Attempts at Limericks
(be kind with any feedback, I’ve tried to be original).

There was a young boy named Bryn.
Who was learning to play violin.
When it came time for lesson
Our Bryn would be missing
Leaving teachers frustrated with him.

There was a wild girl we call “Sam”
Who went out to swim near a dam.
She was bit by a turtle
This turned her toe purple.
She said “oh, what a poor girl I am”

There was a young teacher named Jane
Whose students were driving insane.
It made them feel glad
When she said they were bad
She never wants to see them again

There was an old jockey called Jim
Whose race horse it never could win
So he fed it some beans
And we know what that means
In the next race it had jet propulsion!

A young Englishman called Colin
Refused to eat anything foreign
His friends thought it’d be neat
To give him garlic to eat
But now no one wants to go near him.

A fat superhero named “Rat Trap”
Once found himself caught in a cat flap.
His foe thought it’d be great
To leave him to his fate
The cat was a tiger called “Bonesnap”

There was a shy young man named Earl
Who never could talk to a girl.
To help their good mate
His friends set up a date
With a fat tattooed woman named Pearl.

There once was a man named Curly
Whose butt was incredibly hairy.
Once lying in the sun
He got shot in the bum
Mistaken for something real scary.

The next are writings about a character I called Alfred Shack. He is a fictional character based on several close-talking people I've met. People who's claimed exploits seem just a little too hard to believe.  Tales of Alfred Shack was one of the first things I wrote, technically it is far from my best but it is a favourite of my children.


Tales of Alfred Shack

There was a young man named Alfred Shack.
Wherever he went he had a sack on his back.
His sack was full of all kinds of tales
And paperclips – (for catching whales)
Wherever you were going, he’d been to before.
He would give you directions (that you should ignore).
Alfred had learned to fly before he could walk       
And, of course, play guitar before he could talk.
He was rodeo champion at just three years old
The next year wrote a book – 3 million sold!
Around ten he had his own show on T.V.
And by 12 he had earned his first Ph.D.
By 15 in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame,
(Apparently this is under a different name).
He once saved 12 families from a monsoon,
Then, piloted the shuttle in the same afternoon.
He led Special Forces against the drug cartels.
And even discovered where Atlantis dwells.
As a doctor, he had once saved a prince’s wife.
The King made him a knight for the rest of his life.
Knowing “Sir” Alfred is such a great honor for me,
Hearing about all the things he can do and can be.
It’s rare to meet a person who can fly without wings,
And yet Alfred can do that and many other things.
Towed a ship into harbor with a rope ‘tween his teeth.
Saved an elephant from drowning, to its handler’s relief.
Saved a valley town from lava by peeing on its flow.
Caught a blue whale with a paper-clip but then let it go.
I needed to fix some cabinets but didn’t have the knack
He explained how to do it with a paper from his sack.
With bank robbers escaping Alfred once was called in.
So the robbers surrendered - knowing they couldn’t win.
An award winning musician so I asked him to play.
But he had loaned out his guitar, it’d be back any day.
He had told me, he could run a three minute mile,
When I asked him to prove it he just gave a smile.
He is so special that it’s not fair for him to race,
No human being could hope to match his pace.
Now if you need his aid you just have to ask
If you have a computer it’s not a hard task
Look on the internet (yes he invented it!)
Just go to his website it’s at Alfred.net.

Sir Alfred of Shack

A great man of lore and of legend
Sir Alfred of Shack was his name
Would do feats of both skill and of danger
The foundation for much of his fame
A slayer of dragons and monsters
Saving damsels from towers and cave
Would return each night to his mother
Her cooking it seems that he’d crave
It can never be said that he’s modest
By no one but him anyway
Because every small thing he’d accomplish
He’d tell anyone about – any day!
That other heroes exist is undoubted
And many great deeds they could claim
But if you asked Sir Alfred about them
He would tell you that he’d done the same
The lists of deeds credited to Alfred
Are long and some items unique
And no one could call the man passive
Everyday new adventures he’d seek
It’s true, of the lists some are skeptic
Some of the tales just seem too tall.
Like the whale he’d caught with a paper-clip
And the crocodile he taught to build walls
Often now he’s heard practicing his music
Brass tones can be heard everyday
Because if no other is singing his praises
His own trumpet he’ll blow anyway