Wild and Rare

The difference between those that declare,
“You’re know nothings, but I’m wild and rare!”
And the wonder Eclare is she was wild and rare.

(And knew she knew nothing, so there!)

Yes, Eccles the Clare was exceedingly fair
In the ways that matter to bears.

Bugs in her belly, quills in her hair,
Wearing that see-all, owlish stare,
Making her very wary way where
Nightmares are too scared to dare.

Her roar had a waterfall flair.
Fox envied all Eck smelled on the air.
The woods slipped through her unaware
Of the blessed beast that called them lair.

But you know how you knew she was wild and rare?
When that child Clare smiled you felt rare and wild.


Storm (Part II)

(Read Part I here.)

Storm hugged him tight in her mad swirl,
She’s a vicious loving girl.
Kew’s will and hands were now unfurled,
Sent back to Mount Abirlakurled
Whose roots held up the whirling world.

Every piece of you is you
And every piece of Kew is Kew,
His hands and will from this old hill
Had made him strong and now fulfilled
Their promise to return renewed.

The Storm invites all in
To her push and pull and spin.
Slip your fear and go for wonder,
Head straight for her thunder.

Cages Are Easy

Cages are easy.
It’s freedom that’s queasy.
The great greasy squeezing
Of cheesy sneezies
Is pleasingly teasy wheezy.

My freedom got the best of me!
But don’t worry,
I’ve got a spurious slurry
That’s curiously curing,
A stirring flurry of furry
And in a blurry hurry to bury
The scurrying jury.

That’s furiously fun,
Freedom in free fall –
But not too well done.

I’ll get better,
The bad’s all my fault,
But you can’t live much deader
Than life in a vault.

Storm (Part I)

The skies were roaring gray
When Kew walked out his gate.
It took all his life up to that day,
Just barely short of, oh, too late,
But still he found his fate.

He stepped into the gracious Storm,
Stepped into her at last.
His business done and past
He finally reached his finest form,
She pulled him to pieces fast.

The Storm invites all in
To her push and pull and spin.
She’ll fight you fully as a friend –
I recommend the wind.

Tink Lived

Tink lived a life well structured.
No such thing as out of place.
None guessed that when it frac/tured
Shwas blessed by a saving grace.
The rest of ducks all in a row, row, row,
Somehow now knew twers times to go
Go go yer boat stently up the gream,
Merrily, verily, scarily, merrily,
Dreams be ut they seem.
Tink treamed large, they took/tuck her inn,
Deeep into ther sleepish den,
Across the coals of souls of them
That will not light and so go dim,
Truer nonsense has never been,
So Tinkalink lrnd nd brnd
An lit an likd er way kcaback ome,
Wint str-t true n ut ta roam.
If you shd see her fore you wake
Rember that yore wuts at stake
And f you wisshh your soul to kip
Slip a diply woken sleeep.

Baker Boy

Huppy pokes his finger through a freckle,
Stuffs in sugar by the handful,
Butter, eggs, vanilla, flour,
Wiggles for a minute then waits an hour.
You can tell by fragrant smells,
But most by how he swells
That he’s finished your delicious dish –
He’ll bake you what you wish!

World’s only all natural oven!
Buns in! Folks love him!
Pumpkin muffins by the dozens!
Somethin’s always bubblin’.
He bakes while he sells
Whole cakes by the shelf
All made in himself!

So check your freckles,
Don’t know which one’s special.

Drawn by Guitarseer whose art can be found here.