I am sorry you missed the Depression back whenWe supposedly were Oh, so desperate then.I agree that it was a realistic bad time—Where you could have heard daily “Can you spare a dime?”But what you would have seen was the national mood;It was anything but one that cowered and brewed.We
Who is that coming down the stair,Tip-toeing softly to my chair,Clad in pajamas, pink and bright,Coming to kiss her Dad good night.Littlest angel in disguise,Trying to take me by surprise,Breathless with laughter, pert and smart,Welcoming love with all her heart.The final rush and delighted squeal,The living proof that love is
I really do not think I should be telling you,Where do I get off telling you just what to do?For what I was about to mention, you know well;So it is obviously nonsensical to tell.But I am one who likes to see the good things last;So, while Christmas is over,
The author Dickens did not have to make up Scrooge;That type had been around forever, like as not.Nor did he have to invent Cratchit as a stooge;For some example of him we can see a lot.So human nature can be seen as rubber stamps,There is not one which any author
Okay, you hate the Jews, so you don’t need to lie;But there are many factors here which must apply.So now before you take a stance, and hoist a cry,You must, in all sincerity of mind, state… Why!This is ‘the down and dirty time’ I must persist;I’m hoping that your mind-set’s
If you believe in God, alert to greed and sin,How often have you wondered this: Where has He been?”The truth is this—He’s been around more than you think,If He were there in front of you, He’d simply wink.That wink would tell you—look around, if you need proof,For there’s enough, decidedly,
I know that in your mind you understand the words you read,And that is most important in this realm of human need;But how you then interpret them, in what they mean to you,May change the author’s intent altogether…oh!, so true!So take a bit more time in reading Christmas cards you
So our Thanksgiving HolidayIs just another work-filled day,Because, at least, you get a perkBecause somebody has to work.That latter part, you must confess,Is what, each year, you must address.They do not have to ask you twiceBecause the extra pay is nice,Of course, there is the family touch–They never see, of
What validates Thanksgiving in your mind;I mean, it’s innate value, so consigned?For how you look at it denotes its worth;Perhaps conscripting knowledge of its birth.May I suggest, however, my own view,Where our Thanksgiving is observed anew.For had it not been for the most devout,This holiday would not have come about.But
I wish I could tell you how nice this has been,No, really…I mean it…I’m glad I was here.So nice that I wouldn’t know where to begin—I’m not that familiar with what you call cheer.I hope I’m around at this same time again,And hope they remember me, as I will them.I
Each day, or week, or month. Or year,Will have those moments you endear,Which means you know them, and will makeThe effort needed each will takeTo have it worth the effort then,Proscribing it be done again.It’s true, some are as you had planned,Though valuable, please understand,These aren’t what you’ll remember most’The
In life, we forge the chains which either link or bind,We like to think we’ve done our best, the future sure to find,But we are not the judge—that will be done by those in time.Who knew us not, oblivious to what we had to climb.You will be judged on what
Since you are new here, thought I’d call to check you out—To see how you are doing. You are just aboutTo witness and enjoy what they call Halloween,And let me say it’s not like anything you’ve seenBefore. Too bad we had to have those changes madeBefore we came here. But,
How often have you had occasion to declareIn honest fervent tone-of-voice “It isn’t fair!”Or having seen an ending you would dwell upon,Play out the musing “What if?”, pro or con.Or, on an accolade or discipline,, the pleaWhich you would choose to voice quite honestly “Why me?”Then, too, a voice you
I’m glad that I was taught two nickels make a dime,And five of them will make a quarter every time.Four quarters make a dollar, meaning I can countOn being confident determining amount.Today, however, kids may not be taught that way,In counting money in their heads, in every dayNecessities, to be
What is it that you have that never fails?I mean that—never, meaning it prevails.You may not see it as a habit, true,It is still something you will often do.But when I say it never fails, I meanIt never fails to lighten hearts when seen.If often seen, it will become your
Often sampling The Inner characterAttempting to discern what all this means,Capturing the theme on what it leans,Remains an open question to resolve,Opposed to some conditions which involveSome really silly aspects to resolve,To then take time to tinker with the thoughtIntrinsically suggesting we are caughtContinuing a basic stupid plot. © Richard
A smile may be just like a lighthouse when compared,To show safe passage if your charts are up to date,But otherwise to warn you off of the dangers faredBy venturing too close, the blithe tempting of fate.But just as strong may be the smile whose beaming lightIs seen and aimed
That I’m perplexed is certainly not new;I always want to ascertain a view.This latest seems to tell me more and moreThat I must go and find the nearest shore.It is the gulls that fly there I must seeAnd watch, the ones that live there by the sea.Somehow they are susceptible,
It’s time to pay attention to some history;America has earned its greatness honestly.It is the people who have made this nation great—It is the people who would formulate our fate.Its visionaries formed the industries to build,But they came from the people too, successes billed.The world was used to labor—down and
