Blue Green Brass

(Inspired by the nursery rhyme Little Boy Blue.)

Little boy blue
Of skies shot through
With ginger sheep
That howl and weep,
How will you tuck them in to sleep?

Little girl green
Of winter queens
With hearts of ice
That scorn advice,
How will your kindly words suffice?

Little brass horn
Of rough notes born
With hopeful howls
That hail all crowns,
How will these candied clouds rain down?

Blue, green and brass
Have come to pass
And all is calm,
And all is balmed,
All but a colorful song.

Out of Control

You’re out of control!
You sass right back,
Won’t do as you’re told,
And are happily on the wrong track.

You’re out of control!
You’re the child of wild,
So forward and bold,
The gleam in troublesome’s smile.

You’re out of control!
You call truth to a duel
And refuse to enroll
In polite society’s rules.

You’re out of control!
Thank goodness.

Forgotten Tales

The ancient, the old
Forgotten tales are told
By one who’s done remembering,
One who’s gone Decembering,
One who’s on now timbering
Through woods of hinter history
That hold the winter mystery
Of whence came all the snow
For they are cloud and cold,
They are what life allows,
They are then for now,
If tales remain aflame
It’s ’cause one goes on embering.
Do you play or make the game?
Are you living or remembering?

Silence, Please

Silence, please,
I hear you breathe!
Great books almighty,
I hear you read!
Your thoughts are buzzing bees!
Your stomach gurgles shake the trees!
There’s no need
To feel so freed
From quieter qualities.
If you ever dared to sneeze
We’d behead you at the knees!
I beg, I plead,
What must be done
To make you heed
This desperate plea?

What? No one else is here?
It’s only…



Skly climbed up himself
To see what he would find,
Upon his upper shelf
Were banners left behind
By those who had laid claim
To little bits of Skly
And some who had the aim
Of taking the whole pie.
Flags fluttered in his hair
And poked his peaceful mind,
So Skly, with greatest care,
Piled hair from eyes to spine
As kindling for the fire
He lit, loosed and let run
As his peak’s flaming spire
To burn till flags were done.
Skly’s hair may no more grow
But poppies have en masse,
Wherever his mind goes
He takes a match and gas.


For when you need the cloudy comfort
Of a rainy day,
But all you’ve got is sunny skies
And not a lick of gray –
I give you the Stormbrella!
A scientific wonder!
The hose attached atop the brella
Will shower all those under.
While it doesn’t come with thunder
Plug it in for lightning!
The Stormbrella!
Comforting and exciting!

Rainbow not included.


I feel I must remind
Myself at least –
The sun don’t shine
For anyone
And we’re all better for it.
Better? Alive and aligned
With all that tries to be!
Sun don’t shine so we can see,
Not for plants and animals,
Land or sea,
Any other planet,
You or me.
Sun shines because
That’s what sun does!
Shine for you,
Shine and be a sun,
You’ll accidentally
Shine on everyone.

Nothing Holding

Harl held Nothing in his hands,
Looked at it, poked at it,
Gave and got no demands.
Had a sniff. Had a lick.
Did not have the worst taste.
(Was not liverwurst paste.)
He put Nothing in his pocket
So he’d always have it
No matter what was on the docket –
There was Nothing that was something.
Compared to many other things
Nothing was soft and safe and kind
And everyone in all the lands
Can declare it “Mine!”
Nothing held Harl in its