Category Archives: limerick-styled poetry

I MEAN NO DISRESPECT

I MEAN NO DISRESPECT

The man began to howl,

With no kiss for his jowl…

Assistant Pastor

Got there faster

Than the snap of a wet towel!

A wedding the man attended,

His emotions upended…

Those bridesmaids in line

Caused his pine,

Aware that he had no intended.

The service that Sunday interrupted

By emotions kept and erupted…

It took time

For cries to unwind,

And counseling time adopted!

–Jonathan Caswell

(Dedicated to a valued poet friend of mine!)

HE LOOKS BUT

HE LOOKS BUT

He looks but it’s not the same,

He won’t stare at “what’s her name”…

Passion near-gone,

Less likely to fawn

Over gorgeous women for whom he’d long.

Seeing lovely details,

Before commitment pales…

What was exciting

Is less inviting,

The wind’s knocked out of his sails!

A nice shapely blonde

Of whom he could be fond…

He’ll leave alone

He has no black tome,

To his wife he’d rather respond.

–Jonathan Caswell

BACK TO GENESIS

BACK TO GENESIS

(The beginning o a blog)

 I wish I’d kept track

Of the initial impact…

There were five or six

First blogger picks,

That graced my brand-new act.

Some may have followed from

The blog which I had come …

Under another

Administration’s cover,

But marching to a different drum.

I’ve forgotten who all may be,

It may have been four or three…

One or two still

Accept this handbill,

With many more added  eventually!

–Jonathan Caswell

RAIN AROUND HERE

RAIN AROUND HERE

Raining, not a danger of flood,

Up hill it’s mostly mud…

Farther down,

lawns may drown

But brown water whitecaps are good!

We worry for the septic tank,

For saturated soil smells rank…

Uphill or not

Odors brought

To the surface stank when soil’s dank.

Digging basins won’t help us now,

But ridding all the water somehow…

Being down seven inches

Are we being rain “Grinches?”

And for nothing having a cow?

Farther out south and west,

Nothing has the chance to be guessed…

Too much water have they

And we all pray

that those areas get a rest.

And what of the mighty Blackstone,

River levels threaten anyone’s home…?

Probably nay,

Nor be washed away,

Although downstream might see a little come.

–Jonathan Caswell

A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT…

A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT…!

Ghost stories start like this,

With an unexpected kiss…

Scaring the pants

Off of someone’s trance,

But the target knows something’s amiss.

Going somewhere scary

Makes it worthwhile being wary…

Not all that’s good

Hides in a wood,

Of going alone– be wary!

Not everyone learns

Those razors-in-apples concerns…

Keep your head

Avoid the undead,

And evil that would do you bad turns!

–Jonathan Caswell

SELF-TAUNTING

TAUNTING SELF

Day dreams often may see

A part of them subconsciously…

A girl one wants

The subject of taunts,

Thoughts that one can see!.

A particular case in point,

Putting a nose out of joint…

A gorgeous redhead  you like

Cuddling a guy in spite,

Of your own troth you can’t anoint.

Bubbling up feelings

Disturbing by their revealing…

What runneth deep

Despite efforts to keep

Hidden agendas concealing!

With feelings all gone on the surface,

Are these revelations superfluous…

One’s memory

Has it’s cause to see

Feelings which now are turf-less!

–Jonathan Caswell

REPENTANCE REVISITED

REPENTANCE REVISITED

A radio preacher said,

Repentance was more than in head…

One’s action must change

To rearrange,

The actual  things you did.

Unless it shows up in deeds,

No one repentance believes…

Getting out of the murk

Takes hard work,

You have to take care of those weeds!

–Jonathan Caswell