Hearts & Tarts Rhyme

“The Queen of Hearts she made some tarts all on a summer’s day;
The Knave of Hearts he stole the tarts and took them clean away.
The King of Hearts called for the tarts and beat the Knave full sore
The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts and vowed he’d steal no more.”

I Shall Not Pass This Way Again

Through this toilsome world, alas!
Once and only once I pass;
If a kindness I may show,
To a suffering fellow man,
Let me do it while I can.
No delay, for it is plain
I shall not walk this way again.

- — anonymous (?)

Ode 2 Mountain Dew

Mountain Dew is the best pop I know
nothin’ else for me, none,
no, a day without it, I can’t go on
other pop can’t compare to this one.

It helps me to sleep,
It helps me to wake,
though I can’t
drink it with cake.

Its my life force
it flows through my veins
without it I’m nothing
I go insane.

From the green bottle or can
to the liquid it holds
from the bubbles it makes
to the sweet sizzling sounds.

I savor every bit
don’t waste a drop
so I keep drinking
and can’t stop.

- Cody Learned written while in Grade 10 at Lincoln Northeast High School in Lincoln, Nebraska, U.S.A.

published in “A Celebration Of Young Poets: Midwest – Spring 2004″

St. Elizabeth’s

Help can come in many forms
to aid one through life’s brutal storm;
  a light to guide you in the night,
    a soothing voice to calm a fight,
Encouragement for when you’re down,
A smile to chase away a frown.
  a bed can end a horrid day,
Advice can stop an addict’s need
  and work will sow financial seeds
All these things can help you; true
  but please be humble in your view;
    don’t be a child, don’t hold your breath…

Welcome To St. Elizabeth’s

  — Unknown Author

a place I’ve worked at on & off  this year,
a good cause: http://www.steshelter.org/index.html

Invictus

by William Ernest Henley
(who passed away 105 years ago today)

Out of the night that covers me,
   Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
   For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell cluth of cirumstance
   I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
   My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
   Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
   Finds, and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
   How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
   I am the captain of my soul.

America

If an eagle be imprisoned
on the back of a coin,
and the coin be tossed
into the sky,
the coin will spin,
the coin will flutter,
but the eagle will never fly.

— Henry Dumas

something I’ve pondered several times