Category Archives: applying mulch


He wishes he hadn’t gone

To see what the computer had on…

His tormentor–

Chief presenter–

Told him, just leave the leeches on!

Images on a screen,

Exposure to the obscene…

Big regret

That he let,

Those pictures into daydreams!

Exposing more to the eye,

Continues the fading high…

Holding his ground

At least is sound,

But the germ in his brain won’t die.

More and more guys struggle,

Seeing will power puddles…

Melt to the core

Without God to shore

Up the man in his muddle.



Certain times he’ll confess

To any woman he might trust…

Certain things within his soul

He feels are a must.

Not the best way to interest

A female in  his needy quest…


Are more honest!

Almost as though the sharing

Prompted caring…

Exposing is supposing

That she’s willing to allow him in for a time.

He’ll try this with anyone

He thinks will respond…

Even rejection or a small response

Is some kind of accepted response

(Though not the one rarely received–yet hoped for!)

A cross between an mother and a lover,

An impossible cross to be…

Yet be exposed to him “without clothes”

Offering embraces free.

I don’t know anyone who would

Submit to such a scheme…

Apparently can’t get it at home,

But at least the guy can dream!

–Jonathan Caswell

(Another “hypothetical” poem!)


Agitators on their holy ground,

With lots of pawns around…

College kids

With minds on skids,

Easy to push around.

Community organizers

As propaganda advisors…

Marshall troops–

These kids (easy dupes)–

Blind and no wiser!

Welcome to their hell,

For kids organized very well…

Emotion blinds

Rational minds,

Merchandise easy to sell.

–Jonathan Caswell

(An opinion poem)


Employees rush home

to bed…hopefully…early

Ready for winter?


Times with your children

Are precious, fun and so rare…

Give time this weekend!


Baths for all concerned

Older children separately

Hormones  may just  strike


–Jonathan Caswell


Up here in the North East,

Autumn’s become a feast…

Of summer-like temps.

Foliage that tempts,

For a week at least!

I have a few days left,

To photo colors I think best…

A little green

Few dead branches seen,

But color on most of the rest.

And there are flowers to catch,

Before killing frost wrecks…

Color abounds

Perfumed air around,

The leaving of the last batch!

–Jonathan Caswell


Because of work, can’t watch,

They might be evenly matched…

Not much screaming

But lots of scheming,

Especially low-level attacks!

–Jonathan Caswell


As of ten o’clock this morning ’twas here,

Ending of summer for this year…

The picnics you knew

And the hotdogs chewed,

And friends bring memories’ cheer.

Remember when old and grey,

Bittersweet feelings today…

More coats–no bikinis–

Autumn weather, harvest gleanings–

Perhaps a good time by the bay?

Green turning brown,

Halloween candy’s around…

Colorful days

In cooling haze,

Thanksgiving…soon inbound!

–Jonathan Caswell


“ARTIE”, black labrador,

You wonder why in church he is for?

Quiet dogs are news

Among church pews,

Now what is in store?

Pastor Tony had no Intro,

Was playing with the dog (said so)…

He found a verse

In Psalm universe,

“Entering His gates,” we go!

Tony has a new dog,

The “ARTIE: hitherto logged…

Rescued canine,

Sev’ral families chimed,

In parts of epilog.

Artie loves his new master much,

Sstill. training takes gentle touch…

Artie bites

When in his lights,

He feels a threatening touch.

Artie, toward his master new

Parallels us and Jesus Christ who…

Says, “Now you understand

“When you bite MY Hand,

Although you know that I-AM loves you!”

Tony said (with his dog nearby)

The dog reacted just as I…

He didn’t mean

The bite as It seemed,

But like me, God wants to cry!

–Jonathan Caswell


Writing at a quarter past one,

Praying ’bout the message to come…

The word searching–

Badly needs churching,

Will he be too sleepy to come?

–Jonathan Caswell


Returning up from the dregs

Of wonder between the legs…


The Spirit sees

This one taken down a peg.

From bingeing not on food

But absorption of .the lewd…

Your Word within

Like soap to  the skin,

A cleansing interlude!

–Jonathan Caswell