There was an Old Man of Peru,
Who watched his wife making a stew;
But once by mistake,
In a stove she did bake,
That unfortunate Man of Peru.

He never worries
No not him
I have to do it all
Chasing everything up
Making sure things get done
Reminding everyone of everything
He just wonders about
Not a care in the world
Leaving it all to me
All the worry
And then, suddenly
Just to wrong foot me
He does something kind and thoughtful
The *******!

                          By Phil Roberts

I trace the cobwebs
in the depths of my mind,
refreshing my memory
hiding what I find...
There are things
that can't be heard, can't be told
For some of my thoughts
might be too blunt, might be too bold
What do I fear?
Judgement? I know it too well
Whatever it is, it's hard to tell
So, let me just omit
the secrets that you don't know
And to the recesses of my heart
these words will go

You can be lost in the forest
Riding on you bike
Galloping on horses
Putting up a fight
Marching to music
Baking a cake
or catching a school bus
before a swim in the lake

You can be a reader
Or the one written about
Maybe a perceiver
Without any doubts
You can be a page turner
maybe one who turns around
You could be lost in a forest
And never be found

A tree falls in the forest,
and it doesn't make a sound.

A man yells in the forest,
and local wild life forms a mob.

A man falls in the forest,
and he doesn't make a sound.

A tree yells in the forest,
and we all run like hell.