The Deep Sea Forest

The darkling sea lays secret siege
On any that cross her waves,
But even she salutes the brave
Who stand up in their graves.

The stony sea swallows all
That dare to fall and follow through,
Though she knows however deep the hole
You cannot sink a soul.

Every ship that has a crew
Holds a seedling soul there too.
When one gives up the loving sun
And is buried in the blackest blue
It plants itself in muddy brew
Then grows the way all tall-tales grew,
Tearing through the doubting sea
Until what is is more than true!

A soul that sails and sees the sea
From underneath is quick to be
Back on the rise to waiting skies
As a rare seafaring tree.

These trees were born long, long ago
But only now are they free to grow
With dark waves flying far below.

A Few More Nonsense Limericks

There was a young lady whose clock,
Couldn’t hickory, dickory, dock;
When the hour struck,
It’d hoot and cluck,
And confound that old lady and clock.

There was an old man of Berlin,
Who grew a two-story pumpkin;
He sold it as a boat,
But it didn’t float,
That tricky old man of Berlin.

There was a young lady in gray,
Who wandered the hills every day;
Picking poppies and fruit,
All manner of loot,
To brighten that young lady in gray.

Don’t Speak Week

Silent Sunday.
Mum on Monday.
No talk Tuesday.
Wordless Wednesday.
Just think it Thursday.
Noise free Friday.
Speechless Saturday.

This is the Don’t Speak Week.
Not an eek, no not a squeak.

How long can you go without a word to say
Before your mouth just runs away?
Most don’t make it to Monday,
Though some go out the fun way.
Oh, yes!  Some people POP!
‘Cause they can’t handle the full foul mouth stop.

If you make it long enough
To call Loud on his blustery bluff
And cut the guff, the fluff, the huff and puff,
Then you just might hear some stuff.

When all your noise is put aside,
Nowhere’s left for Truth to hide,
Listen for your oh so soft song inside.

My Angel

God gave me to an angel when I first came to be.
God gave me to an angel that dearly needed me.

Angel was to watch over, to guard and be a guide.
Every moment of my life she was right there by my side.

The day came I was old enough for her to show me she was there.
She stepped into right here from right out of nowhere.

She had gold in her eyes and a blue daisy crown.
Her lightning wings lit up a rumbling thunder cloud gown.

Seeing chance favored me, I laid the charm on thick.
I said, “Listen up, bud, this is gonna go quick.

“I lost my lucky dime last week and need to get it back.
I want a squid, my own moon and a fireball attack.

“I’d like a bug named after me, one that’s toothsome and bitey.
I’ll also need a tail – perhaps squirrel – something classy and mighty.”

Angel rudely interrupted, “That’s not really what I do.
Though, as it happens, your lucky dime’s in your left shoe.

“I’m not a fairy godparent, a witch or devil dealer.
I’m more along the lines of a holy leader and healer.”

Looking up at my angel, the course of action was clear.
It didn’t take a seer to see I had to volunteer.

I offered up my lucky dime to this great beast of light.
I told her, “It’s okay now.  I’m here.  It’ll all be alright.”


Just as night seemed to tip away
It crawled right back at break of day
And crept upon young Tuckus.

He saw this shade appear and fled
And shrieked as he abandoned bed –
“What is this pocus hocus?!”

The chase was on, all bets were down,
Two step-in-step, no one gained ground,
What could Tuck do to win?

As day wore on the night beast tired,
It shrunk down, getting Tuck inspired,
But it roared back up again.

Tuck could not flee another step
So he turned to face this shlep
And also turned the battle.

Now the chasing is his turn,
Though one wonders when he’ll learn
He’s after nothing but his shadow.


Drawn by Kyle.

What’s Wrong with Me?

“What’s wrong with you?” they asked,
“There are so many things.
It’s as if the weird were tasked
With raising a king of kings.

“What’s wrong with you?” they sighed,
“You’re oddly odd, we’ve tried
To include and be your guide.
Why won’t you let us all inside?

“What’s wrong with you?” they groaned,
They asked and sighed and moaned.
“We so want to see you fly!
But you leapt into the sea
And refuse to come get dry!
Why can’t you just agree
That this normal is the best
And come join us like the rest?

“The toilet’s not for planting trees,
Stars aren’t alien camp fires.
You can’t grow great friends from cheese
And why sing sweet songs to spiders?
Don’t shake hands with your face,
A river cannot be your brother.
The back side of nowhere ain’t a place
So stop insisting that we go there!
You can’t take whales on walks,
Or store extra holes in jars.
Stop trying to lion train rocks
And join us in this world of ours!

“What’s wrong with you?” they huffed.
And I only ever said –


A Few Nonsense Limericks

There was a young lady of Raymond,
Who was perpetually maddened;
By docks in the dell,
Always giving her hell,
That ruffled young lady of Raymond.

There was an old man with a brush,
Who re-painted the world in a rush;
He found it a bore,
All the people adore,
This new world he made with his brush.

There was a young lady of Lima,
Who spent eighty years in a coma;
When she awoke,
She thought it a joke,
She was now an old lady of Lima.