Shelving Books

The experience of shoving books into their appropriate positions blithely unaware of the absence of the necessary bookend has now been chronicled in pretend piano for your empathetic ear.

The Rabbit and the Mice

Another very random limerick.

There was a cold rabbit who cried
Oh! What has become of my hide?!
     He said to the mice
     Afraid of the ice
In the future I won't let you ride.

Rolling Orange

Once upon a time
there was an orange.
The orange rolled across the grass
until it bumped into an orange tree.
Then it stopped and did nothing
because it was an orange.

The End.

But is it?

The orange flew through the air
and kissed a different orange hanging on the orange tree.
The oranges spun and
sailed into a rose bush.
Then the orange and orangette
sat by each other until the end of time.

The Beginning.

Lunchtime Fruit

"This orange looks like a pear." he said, as he sat down and ate two. 

 ("He" is my father and he did say those words, but he ate only one.)

The Unborn

Something a little more serious...

This is to those who are not yet birthed,
   not yet able to stand.
This is to those who are not yet present,
   not yet able to choose.
This is to those who are the future,
   are the hope of our land.
This is to those who are held without rights,
   are destined the battle of life to lose.
This is to those for whom the barren hope,
   for whom the childless ache to hold.
This is to those who, for pleasure, have been wrought,
   for pure convenience, discarded.
This is to those who would have been the saviors of mankind,
   would have been the doctors to find the cures.
This is to those who would have been the heroes of our country,
   would have been the ones to give their lives.

This is to those thousands of unborn children,
   to those millions of knife-wounded hearts.
This is to those opportunities lost,
   to those little ones' aborted lives.