I thought I'd take a moment and print a few of my old poems. I've had a number of requests.


The angry man, the smiling man,
The friendly man, the grouch.
The man on Sunday mornings,
Paper and chair beside the couch.
The man who taught me honesty,
The man who taught me work,
Who showed me generosity,
How to do it now, don’t shirk.
The man who showed me by example
More than he ever could with words,
All the values and the morals,
and the truths and some absurds.
The man who now in death
Lives on two fold in me.
The Dad who’s in my soul,
And my loving memory.



Pleasure is a forest
On a cool autumn night,
With a warm fire crackling
By the full moon's light,
And the sound of crickets chirping,
And the rustle of the brush,
And the hollow hoot of hoot owls,
Who at night will never hush,
And the mournful howl of coyotes,
As they cry up at the moon,
And the shuffle of the night beasts,
Who at first light leave quite soon.
As the dawn cracks o'er the horizon,
There's a momentary hush.......
As the night sounds fade away,
And the cheeks of morning blush.


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