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Doir Oct 2020
The Package

I placed an item within a package, filled with bubble wrap
And took it to my master, where I placed it on his lap
I asked him if he’d open it, and send a message back
And not to overlook it, and place it in his stack
There are others who have questions, of that I am very sure
Being only human, egotistic and insecure
I have no time for others, or to rely on simple fate
The answer I require, is something that won’t wait
Perhaps if I do penance or some other protocol
He’ll help me with this venture, not allowing me to fall
I know he really need, not open up to see
The package that he has, contains a piece of me
A heart that’s sick and hardened, for lack of some belief
That there is someone out there, who can bring one true relief
My wish is from that box, he’ll find the thing inside
And with his hands he’ll hold it, and let his love reside.
Doir
This I wrote shortly after my business had to close it's doors and I was somewhat depressed. Written around 1990.
Doir Oct 2020
A giant of a swede
Who drank local mead
Mighty rivers he made
Whenever he peed
And from his belly a sound
Growing louder each round
‘til his pants were undone
And his innards were freed

With each hand as big
As a small suckling pig
He’d pound on the bar
“Over here with a swig”
Then he’d pick up a beat
With his humongous feet
And cause the building to shake
With his wild country jig

Whilst laughing and singin’
The phone began ringin’
And no one could know
The news it was bringing
With gaiety and fun
From moonrise ‘til sun
The barroom was rockin’
Rollin’ and swingin’

When finally a break
The party did make
One with good hearing
The phone call did take
The voice on the phone
Wanted Swede to come home
And without a second to wait
A leg he did shake

His head though be pounding
His feet were not grounding
As each corner he reached
He swiftly was rounding
When just up ahead
He could see his homestead
The stretch of his pace
Was simply astounding

Upon reaching the landing
Where the doctor was standing
Nodding and smiling
With a physician’s understanding
He became sober and quiet
While his face did turn white
At the site of his new family
Their attention demanding

In the midst of the bedstead
Lay a tiny new redhead
On a quilt filled with down
Stitched with blue colored thread
And with a tear in his eye
Oh! Such a macho guy
Says “my drinking days are over”
“I belong here instead”.

Doir
This was written a few years ago and was sitting on my computer, so here ya have it.

— The End —