Last week the temp hit ninety-six,

Today it’s sixty-two.

Sammy and I can’t stay comfortable,

We’re hoping for the middle of June.

05/18/2025

Sammy and I share lots of things,

My desk chair, my recliner, my chips.

Looking at that I see a pattern,

Everything goes straight to our hips.

05/10/2025

I was sitting there unblinking,

Rhyming shears that were a-pinking.

Then my brain began a-thinking,

How this poem was a-stinking.

05/04/2025

What is going on these days,

Could you explain this thing to me?

Why on earth at the drive-through,

Was I offered a “Senior Drink” for free?

04/27/2025

Some poems are destined to become literature,

O Captain, a host of golden daffodils, lovely as a tree.

Sammy, however, keeps my feet on the ground,

Saying my work is the tramp stamp of poetry.

04/05/2025

Breakfast time for kittens,

Breakfast time for kittens,

Sammy says, “MAO!”

She wants to eat now,

But I was going to feed her anyhow.

Breakfast time for kittens,

Get up out of bed.

Sure will miss that pillow,

Where I rest my head.

Breakfast time for kittens,

Cannot make her wait,

Just because,

Those tiny, sharp claws,

Keep me from running late.

Breakfast time for kittens,

Then right back into bed.

If she likes her breakfast,

She’ll sleep right on my head.

03/30/2025