Poems Archive

A terrible belly dancer is the pelican, sir
Its beak can shake more than its belly can, sir

The fruit tree wrote a controversial book:
“Come, Harvest, Come!”
To save himself unpleasantness
He used a nom-de-plum

Poor Key the pig has locks of hair
That flourish in his larynx
He lost his voice six weeks ago
For reasons now apparynx

Wendell the weevil
Despicably evil
His instincts primeval, despised
He’s always unceevil

Old Father Hubbard went to the cupboard
That’s when he discovered the bear
Who gobbled up Hubbard and all in the cupboard
And left just a bone lying there

I think if I were Ogden Nash
My poetry might bring me cash
But as I’m just a mortal poet
I find it hard to keep afloat

The psychiatrist philosophized
About his fruitful life
Four children and ten grandkids
And his ever-faithful wife