I was trying to put the cutlery
In their respective slots,
Then the flash of a thought struck me:

     I could train a monkey to do this.

Don't call them noble,
Nobles aren't even so.
They're pretty good though,
The monkeys.

Hey, when I whack
A really good one,
When I'm in the Zen
Of perfect flight,
My buddy will remark:

     Give a monkey a typewriter
     and sooner or later he'll spell
     a word.

So, I have the greatest respect for our Simian brethern
But those other Nobles... Meh!

A trophy doesn't designate
A winner
Anymore than swearing denotes
A sinner.
Think
Attitude,
Not
Platitude,
And
Wear a ribbon.

Between autumn's offerings
And spring's wings,
Our winter lights are everything.
Crisp sky nights string tinsel streams,
And crystal air heils winter's dreams.

Poplar trees that snowed in summer
Are treasures held in winter's slumber.
Bare branches reach in silhouette
For crowning stars where none now sit.

Here dreams of flight and fancy thrill
Shimmering eyes on a gift-wrapped hill.
Shorelines once rubbed with reeds,
Are splashed by our moonlight beads.
Knolls wrapped in wreaths of herring bone,
Like sirens call us from our home.

Stars held in place by poplar fingers
Ring our ponds like carolling singers.
There nestled by framed winter scenes,
Our winter lights glitter red and green.

These lights that through our window stream,
Bring to mind warm Christmas dreams

When you're gone,
Who'll I compare
To the setting sun,
To it's reluctant rays
When you're gone?
Don't think I don't compare,
But won't, now,
That you're gone.

I'm close to where
I ought to be,
And far from
Where I'm from.
You don't have
To take my word,
Just ask anyone.

I've sought the plea,
Been up the tree,
Considered the Dane's To be...,
I've fought the weary,
Been wrought with envy,
I've sipped on lemon iced-tea.
I've finished much along the way
To where I oughtn't be.

In conclusion, I've no delusion,
I'll sing Let It Be.
I'm not outdone,
By anyone,
But what will be,
Will be.

Why do you put up with a social climber
With two rungs left
Before his feet touch the earth?
Is it pity, empathy or indifference?

Choices are often ultimatums;
Free will is frequently channelled;
Chaos and dominos infiltrate like moles;
Serendipity and chance prevail.
A few rungs were damaged,
And the playing field is never level.

Why do you put up with one so down?

Ladders, she says, extend both ways,
The angles depend on aspirations.
Going up varies,
Coming down, inevitable.

She concludes with:
*The law of gravity is grave.
That's how.