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Musings Of A Daddy

imagesMommy please don’t cry

Or even ask why

I had to die.

And please don’t be sad,

Not everyone’s bad,

No need to get mad.

*                    *                *

We were having fun

Then he came with his gun,

And we started to run.

But mommy it was too late,

For me and my classmates.

He had so much hate.

*                *                     *

He shot again and again

I felt the pain

And cried out in vain.

Then darkness brought sleep,

so sweet and deep

Please mommy, don’t weep.

*                  *                     *

We were practicing Away In A Manger

Never saw the stranger,

No time to yell Danger!

Mommy, I’m so sorry

That I left in a hurry

Please don’t worry.

*                   *                   *

Now I really must go,

But let Dad know

That I love him so.

Tell Grandpa goodbye

And remember, don’t cry

And don’t you ask why


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Escaping Mr. Death

I wrote this poem many years ago while bored at work


Death came knocking at my door

I watched him from a hole,

I felt his cold and icy stare

Deep down in my soul.

This was oh so very bad.

I was not ready yet.

Just couldn’t go this very day

With dreaded Mr. Death.

He raised his hand to knock once more,

Frowning impatiently.

Knock! knock! knock! knock!

He really wanted me!

I quickly searched around the room

For a place to hide.

Anywhere just to escape

The Grim Reaper outside.

Taking one last glance through the hole,

I saw but could not believe.

The Reaper looked straight at me

Then turned around to leave!

What a lucky man I was that day!

To have avoided death.

I had gotten another chance

To take another breath.


Goodbye Reaper!

I Saw Santa!

Did you hear the one about Santa,

And how I saw him one year?

I am serious! This is no lie

This story you have to hear.


I was up late sipping Eggnog

And it was Christmas eve.

I heard a sound but then I thought,

It was my roommate, Steve


Then I heard a crash and a ‘HO!’

From my fireplace

I looked up and saw old Santa

With soot all over his face.


Want a cookie, Santa?

I asked as he stood there

NO! No! No! he replied

I should be out of here!


He went about his business

Putting toys under the tree

Then took the cookies and milk to go

Completely ignoring me.


Then just like that he was gone

The fat man and his sack

I stayed up drinking all that night

But Santa did not come back.


If you don’t believe my story

I don’t blame you one bit,

Because I think my Eggnog

Had traces of rum in it.
















Xpressions Of My Mind

Should you wish to talk to me

Please do so using poetry

Odes or ballads, I don’t care

All poems are welcome here

So please be sure to co-operate

And I will surely appreciate


Limericks I love the best

I’ll use them a bit more than the rest

I also love free verse and rhyme

You’ll see them here most of the time

So humor me, please be so kind

For they are just xpressions of my mind.


Writer’s Block









Have you ever had Writer’s Block?

If not, it is quite a shock.

You can’t think to write

Your brain is shut tight

Thus you end up just writing crock.


But don’t you despair just yet.

It’s neither life nor death.

Your brain’s over taxed,

So just try to relax

It’s not really worth it to fret.


The words will come, rest assured

And you will be blogging once more

Just a speed bump

Now you’re over the hump

Your brain’s now and open door!


Poor Bugger Blogger

There once was a blogger of old,

Who is long gone, God bless his soul.

Never once Freshly Pressed

Though he blogged at his best,

Not good enough he was always told.

*                    *                       *

He blogged about far off places.

Of events like fairs and car races

But he still got ignored

While the one that scored

Was some blog about dirty shoe laces.

*                       *                          *

I heard he died of despair.

Maybe it was too much to bear.

He had failed at his quest

To be Freshly Pressed

Bloggers’ suicide I fear.

*                    *                             *

Are you a Poor Bugger Blogger?


How To Be Freshly Pressed