Thursday, August 17, 2017


                                In a mess?  Then address
                                The Prime Mover,
                                 Who may clean up your mess  
                                 With His Hoover.


Tuesday, August 15, 2017


                 He’d view on his imagination’s stage,
                 While fondling his earlobe and his quill,
                 The scenes that he’d transcribe upon his page:
                  Sometimes in stately or colloquial prose,
                  Then rising into cadences of verse
                  That with a captivating ardor flows
                  As only his true genius might disburse,
                  One whose fervent imagination could
                  Inhabit sensibilities of all
                  His sundry characters, wicked or good,
                  A feat that every rival would appall,
                       Which leaves me now abashed, though reverent,
                       Supposing such a talent heaven sent.