Poem

My heart has made a garden, where the thorn falls away from the rose. Where every flower has your face. The…

Sweet primrose pressed between the pages. A book of verse from bygone ages. A token kept and treasured

I've got me the pinkeye. My sciatica hurts. I've got some sort of rash, and a touch of the squirts.

I'm stuck here in the garden, I watch the flowers come and go. I wish they'd turn me just a bit, so I could see…

I have no more time, to stumble or bumble, fumble, fidget or fall.I will go over, around, through or under, every…

The tree that blooms unnoticed, bears sweet blossom still. And has its time of beauty, even on a silent hill

I walk on given precious gems far better than a crown of gold two stands with jointed wiggling stems to bring me…

I'm hungry for some oysters. I shall brook with no delay. I told the oysters that I'm hungry, and they must…

I wandered around in the Windiwiddle, with a duck and a mouse and a moose with a fiddle. We paused a while to…

The sea was before him, the cliffs were behind. So he sat down and thought, till a thought came to mind. "I'll…