Short Poems

I've got a pony
All of my own;
So has Tony,
But his is roan
Mine is a black one,
With such a long mane;
" Let's have a gallop
Right down the lane! "

I've got a new book from my Grandfather Hyde.
It's skin on the cover and paper inside,
And reads about Arabs and horses and slaves,
And tells how the Caliph of Bagdad behaves.
I'd not take a goat and a dollar beside
For the book that I got from my Grandfather Hyde.

It's such a shock, I almost screech
When I find a worm inside my peach!
But then, what really makes me blue
Is to find a worm who's bit in two!

It's such a
Bore

It's none too sociable herdin' sheep
Ten thousand feet up in the air,
With yelping coyotes spoilin' your sleep,
Or Injuns on a tear —
An' nothin' for company or for fun
But a collie, a pony and a gun.

It is a cold and snowy night. The main street is deserted.
The only things moving are swirls of snow.
As I lift the mailbox door, I feel its cold iron.
There is a privacy I love in this snowy night.
Driving around, I will waste more time.

The Irish lady can say, that to-day is every day. Caesar can say that every day is to-day and they say that every day is as they say.

Into his rosy chamber stepped the Sun,
Fair Venus lit her vestal lamp of gold;
A magic stillness did the earth enfold,
The coming Night a newer grace had won.

In vain we call old notions fudge,
And bend our conscience to our dealing;
The Ten Commandments will not budge,
And stealing will continue stealing.

In spite of Rice , in spite of Wheat ,
Sent for the Boston Poor — to eat:
In spite of Brandy , one would think,
Sent for the Boston Poor — to drink:
Poor are the Boston Poor, indeed,
And needy, tho' there is no Need:
They cry for Bread; the mighty Ones
Instead of Bread , give only Stones .