Jan Sand Poems
|122.||The Sea Of Night||5/19/2013|
|124.||The Speed Of Light||5/21/2013|
|127.||The World Awry||5/19/2013|
|128.||The Young Pheasant||5/21/2013|
|135.||Up There, Down Here||5/21/2013|
The Funny Old Man
There was an old man who was lonely and grim
And excessively technically minded.
He lived with a cat and an owl that was fat
And a fancy new clock. He=d designed it.
Every hour it rang with a click and a bang
And was good for cooking up noodles.
While down deep inside it secretly fried
Sardines for wandering poodles.
Now poodles can be, as you really can see,
A difficult problem to deal with.
They=d walk in the gate, proliferate,
And snuffle their noses to feel with.
They=d chew up your shoes,
Which does not amuse
When you need them for running and ...
Frank In Contemplation
They call me Frank these days
And the name implies me many ways.
My character is blunt, somewhat unswerving.
My features rather crude, I am a creature
Of many parts, they say, unnerving
In random chaotic fashion. But, anyways,
I function. Admittedly with little passion.
Those hormone fires sparking desires,
That smolders into what inspires humanity