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.

4n Language

The budding poet soon suspects

The pointlessness of: Solve for x

Hero Material

Batman sports a special cowl

He fashioned from titanium

Spider-Man prefers to prowl

In something called vibranium.

Dad’s a cop whose navy blue

And shield reflect his heart

Granddad fought through World War 2

In boots that fell apart.

Wonder Woman’s golden lasso

Makes folk tell the truth

It’s the way your mother asks you

Which makes her a sleuth.

Superpowers lie within

The clothes don’t make the man

Thor just needs a rolling pin

It’s true

Just ask your gran

Nut Job

The rule for pomegranates reads:

Discard the pith and eat the seeds

A feat which calls for more bravado

With our friend, the avocado

Spell Check

Don’t walk too near the woods, go ’round

Especially at night

And if you must, don’t make a sound

Keep low and out of sight

Don’t whistle, sing or kick at stones

Don’t stop to climb a tree

For, if you do she’ll boil your bones

And have you for her tea

Because The Witch of Oldham Woods

Takes little ones who stray

Extinguishing the childhoods

Of those who lose their way

Who’ll never hear a mother’s words

Before their empty grave

Whose names are rarely ever heard

Whose souls no man can save

Don’t walk too near the woods, turn ‘round

For, all I say is true

And pray you’re found on hallowed ground

When she comes after you