Glad Tidings

The rainbow is God’s promise

Not to end all life again

A sign that all He wants is

For mankind to be His friend.

Forgiving past transgressions,

God protects Man as he goes

And so, we’re right to question:

What’s the deal with volcanoes?

Pretty Pleats

My origami friend once told

She’s well-known as a centerfold

And has no current plans for ceasing

While her bottom line’s in creasing

Darwinner

The hunch that Evolution sold

Extolling those who break the mold:

Life’s go-getters, the versatile,

Does not include the crocodile.

Throughout its 80 million years

As each Age comes, then disappears

Left standing in the starting blocks

The croc has yet to change its socks.

Quite unconcerned with each debut

Of nature’s latest ingénue

These veterans forgo the pomp

Preferring life inside a swamp.

Perhaps, the way to win the race

Is holding at a steady pace.

The croc has this down to an art

And 80 million years’ head start.

Utterly Speechless

Convinced my friend was now a mime

Marcel did not deny it

More so, he has been for some time

I thought: you’ve kept that quiet!

Pin Head

Pinocchio, despite his lies,

Still hoped he’d find a match

Then soon learned women don’t date guys

Who come with strings attached

With Fronds Like These

To many an anemone

The fear is any Yemeni

Who ofttimes like an enemy

Sauteed and slightly lemony

Grime Scene

When Carter’s party found the tomb

Of Pharaoh King Tutankhamun

They gazed upon the scene with some dismay

At cups and bowls strewn all about

Discarded clothes, some inside-out

In random piles of total disarray.

Add rotting fruit, some moldy bread,

Old board games found beneath the bed

And robbery was feared with utter gloom.

Though if he’d had a son, or two

He would have known, as parents do

That’s how most teenage boys will leave a room.

Camp Sight

What did they face

In such a place

Striking them dumb

Leaving them numb?

Piteous sounds

Cold rifle rounds

The stench of death

With every breath.

No hand to hold

No growing old

Falling as rain.

Never again.

4n Language

The budding poet soon suspects

The pointlessness of: Solve for x

Off The Scale

We sprang from a primordial soup

Of RNA and cosmic goop

We breathed through gills and swam in schools

Among the depths and rocky pools

Bedazzling, streamlined, clad in scales

Propelled by tails with fins for sails.

Until one day, so goes the lore

We cast a fishy eye to shore

And surfed the tide across the sand

To where the water meets the land.

Not ones to walk, we lacked technique

All thanks to our unique physique

But in the end we found our feet

Soon after, gills were obsolete.

Yet, Evolution is perverse

And sometimes throws it in reverse…

For, now we’ve waterparks with slides

We snorkel, sail and scuba dive

We swim with dolphins, live on boats

And teach our small fry how to float.

Tots splash in puddles with delight

While summer’s one long water fight

Still, others love the touch of rain

But when asked Why? they can’t explain.

We left a world now out of reach

The day we clambered up that beach

The price of such a compromise?

This constant need to moisturize.