The Boast (Limerick)

There once was a boy who did boast

That he’d wed a sweet girl from the coast

After ten years and three kids

He was so glad he did

For he knew he was more blessed than most

Get Hip to the Bix (Rondeau)

Get hip to the Bix, was the beat you laid

Pros were tapped out, considered and weighed 

Cons were lost, drowned out by the hi-hat

Objections overcome by the rat-a-tat 

Like Buddy Rich every day you played

Your message, syncopated, in cascade

Each note carefully, expertly made

My protests no match for your scat

Get hip to the Bix

At last, into your time I swayed 

(I could never resist your serenade)

And we were a trio just like that

The pup proving to be one hip cat 

Our refrain an echo of your crusade 

Get hip to the Bix

Darling Wife (Free Verse)

Darling Wife

When I awoke last night

I could not help but note 

That you had claimed three-fourths of the bed

And the dog had claimed one-fourth

Leaving me approximately no-fourths

And as I teetered on the abyss

Stripped of sheets and dignity

I felt rather certain

That this was not touched upon

In our wedding vows

Old King (Pantoum)

Remember those walks along old King

An afternoon stroll, a late night return

Idle talk of what the future might bring

The cobblestones’ click and the gaslights’ burn

 

An afternoon stroll, a late night return

A ring, a proposal, a marriage

The cobblestones’ click and the gaslights’ burn

A pup, a first child, a new carriage

 

A ring, a proposal, a marriage

A little home on Roundhouse Lane

A pup, a first child, a new carriage

Nothing to lose, the world to gain

 

A little home on Roundhouse Lane

Idle talk of what the future might bring

Nothing to lose, the world to gain

Remember those walks along old King

Disorderly Offspring (English Sonnet)

Child! The remote does not go in your drink

Nor should your bedroom wall bear your surname

Sand goes in the sandbox, not down our sink

And staying up past ten is not a game

Do not feed the dog the dinner I made

Do not place your shoes on the cutting board

Please answer me the first time you are bade

And stop sneaking sweets for your hidden hoard

Take to heart my endless rules and complaints

And you will grow up to be civilized

The neighbors will place you among the saints 

And we will no longer be ostracized 

Our home will be orderly, quiet, sane

Until we’ve grandchildren to entertain…

From the Kitchen (Ottava Rima)

From the kitchen you fly, Hermes in your wake

Dishes stacked like art, ants in celebration

The dishwasher on a perpetual break

The sponge unclear regarding its vocation

Societies evolve from an old milk shake

The sink witnesses the birth of a nation

A gift, lovingly left for your Charlemagne

At last, a kingdom over which he can reign

To the Garden (Ottava Rima)

To the garden you fly, with the rising sun

Trowel unholstered, ready for the draw

Weeds cower in corners, knowing they are done

Vines tighten their tangled grip, fearing the law

The squirrels they scramble, the rabbits they run

No creature dares trespass a single paw

You reign supreme in this green, glorious realm

Your garden nation, along the southern elm

The All Clear (Acrostic)

A-irline pilot

N-ot lately flying

D-o not despair

R-eady your wings

E-ngage your engines

A-nd prepare for the “all clear”