LIMERICK OF SOLACE

LIMERICK OF SOLACE

–

There was a man who’d call us,

Seeking some form of solace…

He put away

More than a quart a day,

And spent a lot on mollusks.

–Jonathan Caswell

(It’s late—I’m sorry!)

FEELING LONELY

FEELING LONELY

–

My wife is away

For a day or two…

Resting in a hospital bed

After an operation was through.

–

It’s just a minor thing.

Returning control

To a part of her life

That  had too big a hole.

–

But I am left alone..

Poetry my nightcap,

We haven’t done it for years

But I yearn someone’s lap.

–

Somewhere this man can lay his head

For some consolation…

But if the wife hears about it

There will be consternation!

–

The little boy or young man

Within me wants a hug…

Long and lingering, but

He will risk a verbal slug.

–

So he’ll say “good night my love,”

To his wife towns away…

Maybe tomorrow she’ll return,

Oh that will be a day!

–Jonathan Caswell

CONVENIENT CLOTHING

CONVENIENT CLOTHING

–

Three cheers for over-sized pants

That fall to ankles with a glance…

Pull up while hooked,

Tighten belt and book,

But don’t trip on them if you dance!

–Jonathan Caswell

ON AGING…THE SERIES?

ON AGING—THE SERIES?

–

He gets up at six or five,

A part of being alive…

He’ll achieve

The effort to breathe,

Before into bed again dive!

–

Watching Saturday westerns,

Roy Rodgers, black-and-white veterans…

The bad and good

Were understood,

Reality wasn’t mentioned.

–

To us kids it was a lark,

Playing cowboys in the park…

Older now

I realize how

Judgment and characters start.

–

Old Roy didn’t have street smarts

Unless they were hidden arts…

Few complications

In situations,

With singing before we.d part!

–

Up at the crack of dawn,

How long will this go on…

Til the hand finally slips

And loses its grips,

Then the one who grew up is gone!

–

–Jonathan Caswell

ONE MORE WARM YOGURT!

ONE MORE WARM YOGURT…TO GO!

–

One more yogurt to go,

It’s not refrigerated, you know…

If the other tingled

This blueberry’s singled

Out to be eaten up slow.

–

Yogurt is rather like beer,

Fermentation is here…

Let that proceed

And spoilage is guaranteed,

And THEN the stuff will taste queer!

–

–Jonathan Caswell

MISTER PROCRASTINATER—TAGGED.

(graphic borrowed from https://dorkchopsworld.wordpress.com/ –the blog  post of the same name!)

MISTER PROCRASTINATOR—TAGGED!

–

This guy isn’t really a beauty,

He’s a man who sometimes shirks duty…

His depression is real

Effectively concealed,

Making decisions a little loopy.

–

Self-care a big bugaboo,

Neglecting helpful things to do…

Mega dry skin–

Lotioning has been

Something he rarely will do.

–

Some things like book delivery

Or consigned selling that he…

Asked about months ago

Move rather slow,

But the stuff moves occasionally.

–

If he hits a mental brick wall,

Not much will get done at all…

His model train

Needs work again,

But his strategy is to stall.

–

He is, however investing

In additions that sound interesting…

Like J. Paul Getty

He’s getting ready,

But the bank card really needs resting!

–

Often putting off the doctor,

His wife has to encourage and proctor…

His taking care

Of his needs there,

At times he’s been so mad he could have clocked her!

(But didn’t)

–

–Jonathan Caswell

LOOKING FORWARD TO IT!

LOOKING FORWARD TO IT!

–

The building will soon be intact

And I can fulfill my contract…

Do my rounds

As nice as that sounds,

Then I KNOW I WILL HAVE COME BACK!

–

Being limited to the desk,

My pride wants to do the rest…

Pulling my weight

Would be great,

And to keep up my job would be best!

=

—Jonathan Caswell

HEART THROB

HEART THROB

–

When she passes by it,

His heart erupts in riot…

The heart throbs,

It’s the hardest of jobs

At that point in time to keep quiet!

–

Been through it all before,

Each time she walks for the door…

I helped for a time

She needed mine,

A wheelchair pushing chore.

–

Cherishing each look,

but doing things by the  book…

Forbidden love

For an unknowing dove,

Remains for him a closed book!

–

Now nearly every day

His heart is stolen away…

Despite facts

He always acts

As if there were nothing to say.

(Nothing to say…!)

–

–Jonathan Caswell

NERVOUS…WHY?

NERVOUS…WHY?

–

He started re-digging a hole

In one knee, his soul…

Needed the rest

From worry’s test,

Was it time for a comforting bowl?

–

–Jonathan Caswell

TAKING A BREATHER

TAKING A BREATHER

–

Early–nearly each morn–

We wake up coughing forlorn…

The phlegm we hack

Sometimes swallowed back,

Combined with the irritants borne!

–

–Jonathan Caswell