Poem # 36: Why the Wolf Howls

Sir Ludovic was once a knight

for queen and country's sake

His shield and armor shone as bright 

as sunshine on the lake. 

But chiefest of his heart's delights

lay deep within the trees

where dwelt the Queen of stars and light,
a Faerie queen was she.

But there was too a Sorceress
who loved the Knight as well
she would not be consoled unless
she sent them both to hell.

And so, she struck with wicked knife
the Faerie, heart to chin
and trapped Sir Ludovic for life
inside a wolfish skin.

The Faerie fled the Forest where
she once had lived as queen
and flew up through the nighttime air,
an orb with silver beams.

Sir Ludovic the Wolf then howled
up to his queen each night,

 the Moon in turn would smile down
and fill they sky with light. 

Poem #35: Stories

One hundred-million years ago

I lived in wind and rain and snow

I settled by the fireside

with books and cocoa where I'd hide

The Frog fed cookies to the birds

Miss Muppet ate her whey and curds

the Teacup Fairy wished for cake,
outside the snow fell, flake by flake.

A few more winters drifted by,
the little blonde boy tried to fly
Egyptian children played a game
the Gypsy girl was put to shame.

Time went on, and the red-haired girl
was introduced to counts and earls
the rich man's pride was cured at last
the valet's wisdom none surpassed.

Now snow falls on the other side
of planet Earth where I would hide
I wish to God I could again
be small and free as I was then. 

Poem #34: The Cook of Shady Nooke

Out in the night,

far out of sight

up on the lofty mountain height,

the Monster slept,
the village wept
for victims that he'd caught and et. 

His claws were cruel
beside a pool
he'd made in sleep while dribbling drool

He dreamt of feasts
of little beasts
with no compassion in the least.

And so the Cook

of Shady Nooke 

went to the bookshop for a book

on how to slay

such beasts who prey

on smaller creatures, day by day. 

Then, armed with knife, 

he kissed his wife,

and said farewell to home and life

He climbed the hill

the beast to kill
as it lay sleeping, slothful, still.


He saw it there
with matted hair,
eyes shut in gruesome grisly glare
in sleep, its breath
stank foul of death
and filled the cave of air bereft.


Slash! went the blade,
the fight was made,
upon the corpse the shadows played
as morning light
broke through the night
and sparkled on the mountain heights.


And so the Cook
of Shady Nooke
hung back his knife upon its hook.
A tray he laid
of breakfast made
for his wife as she slept and prayed.

Poem #33: Mary Skinner

*Based on the movie Life With Father, which you should watch, if you haven't, because it's kind of brilliant.

"Write to me when you get home,

so I'll never feel alone. 

Take your pen and tell me all

what upon you did befall, 

sweetest Mary Skinner."

"Ladies sometimes don't have time,

though her man may be sublime.

Write me first, and then I"ll see

that you really care for me,"

smiled Mary Skinner.

"Nonsense! What's this folderol? 

Writing first and love and all?

They've naught to do with each other;

we can still love one another,

silly Mary Skinner." 

"Oh, dear sir! Where is your heart?

If you are the one to start,

it would show me that you care,

though I am no longer there!"

cried poor Mary Skinner. 

"As a man, I must be firm:

Write to me on your return!

I like you so very much;

eyes and nose and hair and such,

pretty Mary Skinner."

"All this talk I don't believe.

Girls can never be deceived!

Since you will not write me first, 

I must then assume the worst."

Goodbye, Mary Skinner. 

But, as she walks out the door, 

fearing I'll see her no more, 

off I rush to pen and ink,

sit down and begin to think, 

"Dearest Mary Skinner...."

Poem 32: The Stranger

The Stranger stood beside me

waiting for the bus one day

I had no joy, for slings and arrows

frightened it away

But he addressed me with a smile,

as if to a friend

in halting English, though his joy

I still could comprehend

We spoke of this and that until

the bus came to a stop

and as it left, I waved to him

and felt my burden drop

For though I may be wicked

in ways only I can see, 

I must have some good, for the Stranger

saw the good in me

Poem #31: Alliteration

Alliteration, as an art

all authors ought attempt;

it brings all bounce and beauty back

when brains and backs are bent. 

Caucasians call it clumsy, crying,

"Come, call off this craft!"

But dowagers downtrodden don't

dismay or deem it daft. 

Effectively, it elevates the

ends of elegies

for funerals: the frost, forgotten, 

flushes face and flees. 

Like goodly ghosts it glides through 

gruesome goads, it's glee to gird,

it haunts horrific histories

with healing happy words. 

Important intellectuals 

insist it's ineffective. 

They jest, "These jokers' jaunty jargon

jams the art's objective." 

Some killers kill because the

consonance, they cannot bear. 

They loathe alliteration, but we'll

loose it, if we dare.

Moreover, most men mean well,
but to murderers may morph;
  this needless knack of novelists
annoys them, South to North.

Official orators object
to our obnoxious art.
But playful poets please
the pooped-out public for their part.

Some say, "You give us quite a qualm,
now quit these quaintish quotes!"
But rebel writers write repeatedly
despite reproach.

Their sonnets, songs, and stories with
sweet assonance still sing
of truth, tall tales and twilight,
thanking God for tiny things.

Usurpers understand tales are
uncalled-for in our lives,
but little vital victories they are
for which we strive.

What weirdly words with X in front
will rhyme with words I know?
Xanthosis, X-ray, xenial,
X-men or xenophobe?

Just yesterday, I yearned for
younger days and yellow suns,
I zest in zany prose
and poetry, which brings back funs.

Disney Haikus

I'm supposed to be sleeping right now. But I found a bunch of Disney movies on Pinterest in Haiku form, and now I feel like writing a lot of Haikus, so here's

Disney Haikus by me.

Cinderella

The girl lost her shoe.
The prince picked up the glass shoe.
He followed the smell.

Snow White

Seven Dwarfs live here.
Why is it "Dwarfs" and not "Dwarves?"
It doesn't make sense.

Sleeping Beauty

A girl took a nap,
but then the Prince woke her up.
The creep kissed her face.

The Jungle Book

Mowgli lives down here,
but left his friends for a girl.
Now he can have pants.

Tarzan

Tarzan's an ape man.
Why does he have no mustache?
He has no razors.

The Fox and the Hound

Friends play together.
The old lady dumps the fox.
It is very sad.

Alice in Wonderland

This place is so weird.
It's like The Phantom Tollbooth 
except with a girl.

Peter Pan

Mr. Smee's dumb shirt
is too bloody small for him.
It's driving me nuts.

Tangled

One does not simply
walk away from the tower.
But Rapunzel does.

Frozen

Elsa tries her best
to be a good, nice person
but viewers hate her.

A Little Mermaid

She shouldn't marry.
She's only bloody sixteen.
Please put on a shirt.

Aladdin 

Oppa Gangnam called,
he says he wants his pants back.
I like your monkey.