Category Archives: simple joys


Stranger outcomes happen,

When opportunity’s tapping,

Wanting in

And you begin

Writing ideas you’re trapping!

He’s written ’bout Christ and trains–

Weather seems worth one’s pains….

Fashion poems are new

As something to do,

And the challenge takes working brains!

I’d say it is channeling energy,

Most of which has left me….

Shapes and sizes

And stylish surmises,

Still need a bard’s entrée.

“An eye for the women.” one said,

Focusing on their clothes instead..

“Clothes make the man”

And women, and can

Leave little more to be said!

YET–a poet describes,

Details that emanate vibes…

Along a track

That likes feedback,

Both positive and wise!

–Jonathan Caswell





His memories of New England various,

Were by and large vicarious…

Mostly pictures he saw

with interest and awe,

His chances of a visit–hilarious!

Point of fact he was too young,

Couldn’t drive himself even some…

The eight-hour ride

Once a summer left wide,

Window for relevant magazines to come!

Still his interest grew,

Past the time when he knew…

This paint scheme was gone,

these ALCOs moved on.

But the history he wanted to view.

Found an N scale engine thus,

Painted just like this—a plus–

To re-enact

Historical fact,

Without too much fuss!

–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



Bright  ponies and butterflies,

A lot of meaning lies…

Between these two

But what can you do

For dreams of glad children’s cries?

Now butterfly habitats being skewered

And carnival horses be fewer…

Sheer happiness

Devoid of stress—

Can we blame it on the computer?

Computer games make one think

As suggested attitudes sink…

Deep down inside,

Morals shaped by pride,

Weak armor–ways to find a chink*.

On a carnival carousel,

Thinking doesn’t go so well…

Real simple joys

For girls and boys,

With little manipulation or sell.

Flitting-fluttering butterflies,

How many now gleam our eyes…

Hay fields gone

And the only butterflies on

TV or video…what a surprise?

Simple joys–where did they go,

Are they gone like forts made of snow…

Or time to rest…

In quiet is best…

Only painted ponies know.


–Jonathan Caswell

* chink…in this case refers to an uncovered or weak area in one’s body armor…not a racial slur!