Sunday, March 28, 2010


Away back there,
When the world began,
The Lord took a rib
From out of a man;
And so that Adam
Need not live alone,
He made a woman
From this hunk of bone,
And a few other things
That he had on hand--
A gob of clay,
And a few grains of sand;
Then He added a little
Of honey and spice,
Some curves here and there,
To make her look nice;
And then, from the stars
That brighten the skies,
He put that little twinkle
Of light in her eyes;
And when she was finished,
He called her a wife,
And Adam had trouble
The rest of his life!

--Acres of Verse (1994)

Sunday, March 21, 2010


It's time for Nature's reveille call,
And we know that Winter is done,
When birds and bees, and flowers and all
Awake to the Springtime sun.

Along with the coming of Spring are some
Of the signs of the changing scene;
Pleasing scents of the season will come
With the turning of brown to green.

I love the clean fresh smell in the air,
That comes with the April showers;
No store perfume will ever compare
With the fragrance of blossoming flowers.

I love the scent of the new-turned loam,
The gentle zephyrs will bring,
From the fields around our suburban home,
When the farmers plow in the Spring.

I love the aroma of new-mown hay,
As it cures in the Summer sun;
I love the smell as they stow it away
In the barn, when haying is done.

If country odors were all like these,
Everything would be Heavenly there;
But now and then, borne on the breeze,
Is a smell that would curl your hair!

When one of these rare odors assail
A veteran born to the range,
He holds his breath and doesn't inhale,
As he waits for the wind to change!

--Acres of Verse (1994)

Sunday, March 14, 2010


A rich man went to Heaven,
And stopped upon the stair,
While an angel opened wide the book,
To find his record there.

He said, "This page is blank, sir,
Now, that seems very queer --
Did you do nothing down on earth
To earn admission here?

The rich man thought a moment,
As he slowly scratched his head,
And then his eyes, they brightened,
And this is what he said.

"Why yes, I just remembered,
This ought to do the trick!
I once gave a man a dollar
Who was destitute and sick."

The angel closed the record
When the interview was through,
Then turned to old St. Peter
And asked him what to do.

St. Peter stroked his whiskers,
And then said, "Very well.
Let's give the man his dollar back,
And tell him to go to Hell!"

--The Buckeye Poet (1991)

Sunday, March 7, 2010


I guess it's human nature,
When your race is nearly run,
To think what you've accomplished,
And how you might have done.

I could have played it smarter
Back when I was in my prime,
If I'd been more concerned about
The way I spent my time.

I might have made more money,
Stashing more of it away;
A little cushion, so to speak,
Toward a rainy day.

I could have skimped a smidgen,
Saved a dollar here and there;
Who knows, I might have ended up
A multi-millionaire!

But then, I'd face my maker
With a broken heart, I know,
For I couldn't take it with me
When my time had come to go.

So, everything considered,
I would rather not begin
To do a lot of grieving
Over how it might have been.

--Acres of Verse (1994)