Roy Johnson Poems

As the cold winds of winter whistle down the old stone chimney of life
the rain turns to sleet, the sleet turns to snow
and the dark nights grow longer and longer,
The firewood is stacked beside the house and
...

I wasn’t just a daytripper,
I did it all the time.
I couldn’t have been a male stripper,
I wouldn’t have made a dime.
...

The elephants in the park,
both young and old,
are delightful to behold.
...

is quite a lot different
from the elephant in the room.
...

Fifth row, centre aisle,
the best seat in the house.
The seat with the best view
of all that happens on stage.
...

The perfect summer fare,
so most people said,
is slightly grilled, spicy Spam
and a bottle of chilled cheap red.
...

She is the karaoke queen
down at the Gold Dust Lounge.
Every Saturday night
she sings -
...