Category Archives: Irish redheads


AUTHOR’S NOTE:  He’s not trying to grandstand—just admit to his guilt of certain motives and conduct and ask forgiveness of those he has wronged–whether or not they feel they were.  It is a part of his Christian belief…being reconciled to God and the ones he has wronged asking forgiveness of both.  There is a Bible basis to all this, which the author believes by faith to be the transcribed word of God to be followed and obeyed.  Especially when he doesn’t!  Questions/Comments are always welcome.

Writer of poetry,

The “fashion” got away from me…

Chasing skirts

Many women hurts,

Of this I am guilty!

Sought “readers” unsuccessfully,

The hidden motive–to see…

What interested

Where saints shouldn’t tread

And pester them endlessly!

The many unreturned visits,

Prove out how wrong is it…

I know my sin

Repenting therein,

Stop this practice is the solution exquisite!

I will  stillreach out,

In subjects not ruled out…

Walk in the flesh

Heavily risks death,

Gotta pull some hot irons out!

The upshot–some I’ll follow–

The rest–if they visit tomorrow…

I’ll respond graciously

But not the pest–not me–

I’ve sinned–I repent in sorrow!

My actions toward those of whom I’ve spoken,

From now on–contact is broken…

This I must do

So they’ll feel safe too,

No need of me in their business poking.

–Jonathan Caswell




He calls himself “fashion poet”,

One or two others know it…

In pursuits

Avoiding lawsuits,

He certainly doesn’t want to blow it!

Him being man and all,

Must carefully judge his call…

With less passion

Than stereotypical fashion,

Not being the Beast at the ball.

Gender matters to him,

Especially if women…

They’re the kind

He most has in mind,

Do they mind if he tiptoes in?

–Jonathan Caswell




He thought he’d like a harem–

Oh, what a great idea–

Collecting beautiful women

For each day of the year…

Have one of every hair color:

Of red-heads, two or three,

Some that change with the season

Oh what a company!

But modern girls aren’t like the ones

That lived in olden time,

They’re much more educated,

Don’t easily resign…

Their lives and their futures

To a fat cat jailer-king,

To volunteer they’d like to hear

His cash disbursement ring.

Logistics would be maddening

Even if all were convinced,

Coming from all over

When he saw the bill he winced…

He began feeling outnumbered

Cooperation thin,

Instead of coming one-by-one

They all came after him!

He couldn’t pay their wages

So all up and left,

His fine plans for his evenings–

Not a single one was kept…

And then he got the bills for

The leaving of each one,

He decided then and there

Modern harems were no fun!

I thought of the same thing myself,


But only beautiful bloggers–

Women, in other words…

An exclusive club with just one man

My wife would veto fast,

My flesh already wants control—

The concept sounds a blast.

But thinking realistically

My cost is way too much,

I’ll lose those friends who cannot stand

A married man’s touch…

Long-distance relationships

Are harder to maintain,

I’d just as soon give up now

Before I feel the pain!

–Jonathan Caswell



(new lyrics to: GRANDMA’S IN THE CELLAR)

I-rish I had a shilling

For redheads unwilling

To give me even the time of day…

For many the lass

Who this poor boy will pass

Refusing to go e’en part of the way!

Chasing gold

Gets old

When the end of rainbows run away…

The finest Irish girls

Using me for finger twirls

Then finding another man with which to stay.

A guy just off the boat

Decided to devote

Energies to take away my Carol girl…

This Irish boy called George

Deepened the gorge

By taking Carol out for a whirl.

Spoke a line,

Spent his dime

To steal away my only first girlfriend…

Held back a grade he was mature

Making his girl conquest sure,

I barely saw her ’til the school year’s end!

–Jonathan Caswell