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Light Verse
I Wish I Kept Them
It’s freezing in
here,
My feet are like ice.
I wish I had kept my socks on.
A fire and some beer
Would surely be nice,
And storm doors with tightest locks on…
While hiking at noon
In the mountain rocks,
I felt that my feet grew sweaty.
At first opportune,
I took off my socks
And left them as gifts for a Yeti.
By dark it got cold.
A cabin I found
And hoped for a cozy nighter.
But the place is quite old
And the floor is just ground,
And I have no match, nor lighter.
A fire and some beer
Would surely be nice,
And storm doors with tightest locks on.
It’s freezing in here,
My feet are like ice.
I wish I had kept my socks on.
The Joy of
Writing
I write for
children and adults—
Of what I see and feel.
I write both poetry and prose
With passion and with zeal.
Yes, self-expression is for me,
Wit is my cup of tea,
My life’s experiences preserved
In words of harmony.
I write because I have a need
To share, to entertain,
To give, to show in graceful forms
Both happiness and pain.
For writing is my hobbyhorse,
It’s lots and lots of fun,
And I derive enormous joy
From work sincerely done.
I write by day, I write by night
In one unending spree.
I write because I ought to write.
It’s just a part of me.
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