The doctor said, “No coffee and no pills.”
Without my crutches, I could barely stand.
A widening hole no dozing ever fills
Had grabbed me, and I swam in sinking sand.
My body was commanding me to sleep
And sending squads of dreams to come invade.
At times they’d charge; at others crawl or creep
And wait for signs that I’d begun to fade.
Those traits, — disarming smiles and wit that’s quick—
Those labels that construct identity,
Became unglued and would no longer stick.
I couldn’t grasp what I’d been calling “Me.”
My head would drop; my being seemed to shake
Throughout my struggle to remain awake.
[1st draft of an Elizabethan sonnet by Paul Burgess]
A generous man once did live
Who gave all that people can give.
He gave up his heart
And many a part
That he’d need to continue to live.
“For Emma [my Westie]
I know a small dog whose delight
Is barking at all that’s in sight.
At the end of the day,
Her barks seem to say,
“No one will be sleeping tonight.”
“On a Bond Movie…so get your heads out of the gutter;)”
A man had a gun of pure gold
That ladies enjoyed much to hold.
They’d holler and hoot
Whenever he’d shoot
That gun that was made of pure gold.
“Jill Tries to Go up the Hill” [for the wee little lads and lasses]
There was once an old woman so ill
She attempted to ski up a hill
And continued to try—
I’ve no clue as to why—
But I suppose that’s the reason they say that she’s ill!
“Holy Clown, Batman!”
There was once a man in this town
Who always himself dressed as a clown.
His appearance was odd,
But some thought him a god
And bowed when they saw him in town.