When walls become people
They must learn new ways, yes,
But first that there is a way,
For all their life there was less
Than a way, there was stone,
Stone, which was best.
Whatever it was that stirred them up,
That woke, that poked, that all out called
Them towards us people
We must not, any, fall,
And it happens, yes,
But no person should become a wall.

If I had a third foot
I’d be so much more stable!
I’d be stronger and steady,
Almost a table!

If I had a third foot
I’d win every race!
I’d kick like a horse
With a millipede’s grace!

If I had a third foot
I’d always be prancing!
Even standing still
I’d be halfway dancing!

Or I’d make my hands jealous,
Walk with a hunch,
Get extra hangnails
And trip twice as much.

I was told I have an attitude
And I’m happy to agree.
You can call me rough and rude,
You can say I’m gruff and crude,
I just say I’m me.

Some may say to tone it down
(And many have and will)
And they’re allowed to run around
Their own words till they astound
Themselves with their molehill.

I would like to wish you
The best with your own attitude,
And whomever has an issue
Can find themselves a tissue,
Even dung beetles soar at their own altitude.

There’s lots of love
For the stars above
And even those below

But for my eyes
The brighter skies
Are tucked and tightly stowed

Inside the wilds
Of lively smiles
Where dreams sit on the throne

Of what should be
Done merrily
Where love is lit and grown.

Something crawled inside of me
And now it’s crawling out.
Its venom has me sleepy
So I won’t fight or shout.
I feel it force my head back
And open up my jaw.
I guess it got its snack
Of kidneys or spleen raw.
It’s had its fill!
It’s out and gone
To its next kill!
Or it was just a yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn.

Dwin had it good
As a darling, a beauty,
A queen of the woods
Who called all to duty.
The deer of the woods
Dressed her in flowers,
The birds of the woods
Sang to her for hours,
The trees of the woods
Built her a house,
The bees of the woods
Sent honey by mouse,
The witch of the woods
Was at beck and call,
A blessing who stood
And gave Dwin her all.
But for all done by the woods
Dwin couldn’t care
Not a twig for the woods
Nor the noble life there.
So the woods ate her
And made her
Of the woods.

When you wonder what you’re made of
Know you can drop and add.
It’s fine to be afraid, love,
In fact, it isn’t bad
At all to feel it all
So that you know
Where not to go
And how you want to grow.

I wondered what I was
So I went down to dirt,
Then asked what the rest does
And went on a growth spurt.
But as I look at what has been
And what could be
I start to see
A lot is made of me.

The days before Christmas
All add up to Christmas,
So when it comes
With sugar plums
Some people somehow miss this –
There’s no “after” Christmas,
We can all dismiss this!
Every day is before
Except, of course, for
That merry day of Christmas.

The truth may well be dangerous,
At times even injurious,
But a life of lies
To no surprise
Turns out rather flavorless.

I like the lies I know,
They sit and softly glow,
And I’ll wager
They’re much safer
Than the truth that stirs below.