The ocean waves are murmuring,
And some who walk the shore
May pause to hear some wisdom there,
And linger more and more.  

The seas are older than the old,
And jealous of regret.
Their murmurs wash out memory,
And make a soul forget.

Two neighbors from Naseby compete
Whenever they pour some wet concrete
Whose sidewalk will dry
First, or is it a tie?  
Luxuriant lawns are also a feat.

Would pumpkins smile so very wide
If they knew on a porch outside
An exposed gourd soon rots
Or splatters parking spots?  
Their grins come from some defiant pride.

The sheets and blankets are too big
For such a little bed.  
They drape their fringes on the floor,
And dribble dreams with red.

The brain can’t sluice the nightmares out
Though a grate stopped with cloth.  
Thick curtains collect spiderwebs
And flutterings of moths.

Too nimble for sluggards to swat
Flies will gambol when it gets hot.  
Don’t bother to flap.  
You’re too slow to slap
That buzzing, tormenting argonaut.

Since a bitter beverage goes best
With sweeter courses, adding zest,
So many breakfast dishes
Considered most delicious
Are sugary bases syrup dressed.

The squishiest mattress is a cloud,
So soft it shouldn’t be allowed.  
To stiffen the vapor
They take our their scraper
To shave off of sleet’s brittle shroud.

When things go wrong I like to whine.  
Complaining’s free and feels so fine.  
So when I do find fault,
It’s moaning I exalt.  
Sip vinegar instead of wine.

Impatient, a lion will roar
And kitty’s meowing at the door,
Because paws are fumbling;
At doorknobs it’s grumbling.
Once launching a robin can soar.

I always wanted to procrastinate,
But put if off and now it’s too late.
So if you want to laze
Don’t put up with delays.  
Today’s the day to vegetate.

The town shone cleanest in the mist.  
The clerk rushed for his train,
And if he dallied on his course,
The mist would clot to rain.  

Because he didn’t know the time,
He couldn’t find the way.  
The tower clock was crowing six,
But spires lead clerks astray.

Humbler clocks are best for humble folk;
A fob swung by his flank.  
But he’d forgotten to wind his watch,
And so the dial lay blank.

The summer brings on buzzing flies.  
Those whirrings around ears and eyes
Strum lullabies that make
A sleeper **** awake
And aggravate miserable Julies.

Because even a long summer day
Isn’t long enough to harvest hay.
We modern folk must lose
A lovely hour to snooze
Or botch our Sunday reveillé.

In Scotland painters favor plaid
Though tartans are likely just a fad.  
When dabbing on the wall
The hand can’t slant at all.  
Glaswegians think diagonals bad.

A huckster from Huxby displayed
His circus of fleas to any who paid.
A bug on a trapeze
Can soar with such ease
And for wages takes marmalade.

All gargoyles scowl. What is the matter?
These faces will not make things better.  
But gargoyles always scowl
Because their haunches howl,
And slipping off their ledge will shatter.

Though shaving with soap is very cheap
The cuts can also run quite deep.  
Be careful round the lips.  
Or gout in scarlet drips.  
Perhaps gel’s price isn’t so steep.

All phrases that are pleonastic
And too redundant are bombastic.  
Verbose prolixity
Makes plodding poetry,
A sluggish, limping limerick.

Because zippers cruelly pinch the skin
I use velcro for my fastening.  
Those hooks are much too small
To puncture me at all,
Twisting barbs into crooks blunts pins.

A toggle is so fun to twist
While buttons pivot like a wrist.  
Rotating through a slit
Gives a much snugger fit.  
Toggles swaddle a contortionist.

Because winter days aren’t short enough
To bruise our moods, already rough,
We make them shorter still
And by our own free will.
So if you’re glum and grouchy, tough!