The Bard of Sherman Avenue

A Blaze Of Autumn Color

The trees are aflame

with a fire that’s soon gone

and the ashes are left

all over your lawn.

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

for Phil Hart (with apology to Robert Frost)

 Whose woods these are I think I know,

their office is in Boise though;

they will not see me stopping here

to cut trees for my bungalow.

 

My followers won’t think it queer

to take some logs while no one’s near

off property I do not own –

they re-elect me every year.

 

They give their tin foil hats a shake

to indicate there’s no mistake;

the only other sound’s the sweep

that drooling on the ground will make.

 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

but I have court dates I must keep;

and logs to take before I sleep,

and logs to take before I sleep.

The National Lentil Festival in Pullman

Noble legume,

small and classy,

full of protein,

although gassy;

a boon for farms

from Sprague to Lind –

if I attend

I’ll stay upwind.

The Magicians' Club of Washington, D.C.

Abracadabra

some pixie dust too

and money appears

straight out of the blue.

The Boy Who Skinny Dipped

He swam in the pond

with never a  care

and a bullfrog ran off

with his underwear.

A Note from Greece

No Plato here

nor Socrates;

send lots of money

quickly, please.