The cat’s on the roof,
The dog’s on the hoof,
The rest have all gone mad.

The goat’s gone aloof
For fear of a floof
Of cotton he thought had gone bad.

The cow’s on the lamb
Who’s in on the scam
And demanding a plane and boat.

The pig’s out of ham
And calling a sham
On the goose who’d have his goat.

The duck wants a horse
To race at the course
And win him both cash and charm.

The farmer’s appalled
And maddest of all
And asks if you’ll buy his farm?

I lost myself again
I wish I could say where
But loss has no way in
Except for loss’s care.

I gained myself again
I wish I could say how
But gain is loss’s kin
Accept all that’s allowed.

When every fish sipped at once
The sea dropped down a mile.
Whale saw this as the perfect chance
To step out with baleen smile.
He slid through slippery streets
Like rains chasing after rains,
Happy to be out he’d greet
All by their first names,
Except a few needing respect,
“Mr. Toad,” he’d say, “Ms. Hydrangea,”
With a tip of a flip as you’d expect.
Friend to all! No “Hi, stranger!”
How he did it I’ll never know!
So goes one with killer charm
Who sang his way from sea to snow,
Past cities, towns and farms
He carried on and up beyond
Where any dared walk or swim,
Wherever he went he belonged,
He was happily him to the brim.
So you may see a rainbow spout
One day from a rainless cloud
And you’ll know that whale is out
Living more than life’s allowed!

Illustrated by DALL-E in the style of John Tenniel.

A castle came to claim
A king who did not know
That he had now been named
As caretaker of souls.

The castle had been built
By those who lived below
With mighty walls to tilt
At angry spears and trolls.

And if the walls were lost
The people and their king
Would pay whatever cost
To raise them up again.

And if the walls cared more
About a coat of gold
Then they became a floor
Or were quite coldly sold.

And if the king gave not
A care for people there
Then they pulled back the lot
Of power that they shared.

All people, castle, king –
Each for the other stood –
Flew with the other’s wings –
Worked for each other’s good.

How nice to not have something
That needs our constant judging.
So let’s leave it nameless
And, yes, somewhat aimless
And not waste a worry
‘Cause we don’t have to hurry
Any which way that we think.
I rather like the ring
Of a “let it be” beast.
We’ll risk it all again
But for this one at least
Let’s neither lose nor win.

The crumbs were all kept
Where the night guard swept
Them to the far side of the moon.

Each crumb to be found
Could be rightly crowned
As a prince of the lunar dunes.

From every proud cake
To humble bread baked
On any planet that you’ve heard

If a crumb should fall
It belonged to all
And this was the stern final word.

So each crumb was starred
For the fine night guard
Who flew in on their gray-green brooms

And swept the whole lot
Into their broad pots
Until full up with baking’s blooms.

Before they could stale
They would pour like hail
Out onto the moon’s sealess coast

And the waves of crumbs
Would swirl and become
New breads for those who need it most.

If you might be one
Who could use a bun
Take one or four, we’ll both be blessed.

So that’s where crumbs go
And now you well know
Why eating I make such a mess.

Ibe kept Far in a jar
‘Cause Near was nigh here
And his larks were all stars
Gone there but here clear.

Because of betweens
He said he was free,
Though maybe this means
More to you than to me,

Because, for myself,
If I’m ever to fill
A jar on a shelf
It will be with the real!

The things here at hand!
Like pickles or treats
Or perhaps even sand!
(Though I prefer eats.)

It’s fair to say I don’t
Have the words to say
What Ibe will or won’t
Do this or any day.

He’s ruled by himself
In the land of the grand,
And the jars on his shelf
Fill up with wild plans.

The day after Christmas is done,
Old Santa’s again feeling young,
For he’s pulled off a feat,
A miraculous treat,
Every gift out has beaten the sun.
Now he’ll sleep for most of the year,
Till the darkest of days reappear,
Then it’s back to the task
Of impossible asks,
He’s a spirit of limitless cheer.

A cyclops has a second eye
He hides down deep inside,
So he can see himself
From every single side.

A cyclops has a third eye
For staring down the past,
His fourth eye’s on the future
To see unto the last.

That fifth eye is the one you see
Staring back and maybe through
Those biting eyes of yours
That glare back right on cue.

His first eye’s looking out
The eyes of others like a ghost
To know the lives that others live
At their noble post.

So when they tell you of the cyclops
And his single, mighty eye,
Tell them Clopse has many more
Than we ever seem to spy.

And if they tell you you’re just silly
And to leave the tale to them,
Close one eye and point out
That silly don’t mean dumb.

A full heart is a happy thing
That helps to fill up others.
An empty heart calls you to bring
Kindness in every color.

A long gone heart does not exist
So don’t think that you can
Lose yours to be mourned and missed
In empty, heartless lands.

There are no missing hearts,
Some try to hide but none are gone,
They’re one of those confounding parts
Of you that carry on.

A locked heart is the worry
So I go collecting keys
And if you find one hurry!
Send it to me please!