Tag Archives: fumble fingers


The train ’round our tree survives,

It must own several lives…

train tracks glued down

won’t shift around,

But the trains do go flying–surprise!

Being careful my wife and I,

Have avoided seeing the train fly…

It at times left the rails

So far my steamer fails,

To run here–I don’t know why?

Helps that we have no kids,

Nor cats to sit amidst…

Not much room

Nor do our trains zoom,

But they’ve been known to do splits!

–Jonathan Caswell





Her glasses have miniature screws,

I can;t see as used to do…

Affect repair,

I’ve lost tghem somewhere,

A quandry that easily unglues!

Tried wiring with a twist-tie,

Its plastic covering wouldn’t slide…

Off very much–

There went my crutch–

My wiil to succeed up and died.

Tomorrow, an optician

Hopefully completes the mission…

It’s all in a bag

That tiny screw’s tagged

For they’ll have better precision.

–Jonathan Caswell



He made up a four-scoop pot.

Of coffee that hit the spot…

He drank til

He’d emptied the till,

And made it as far as he got.

His fearful fumble-fingers

Made some awful dingers…

That he could retype

Before they turned ripe,

So  that no typo lingers.

He starts making mistakes

When his concentration breaks…

To be somewhat crude,

The guy needs some food:

He’d like some fried fish cakes!

Two days of this is enough,

At home he’s getting so gruff…

He needs the rest

To feel his best,

The man just isn’t that tough.

Tonight his long shift will end,

Tuesday it happens again…

At a different site

Till late in the night,

Think of the paycheck they’ll send!

–Jonathan Caswell



(“Yellow Rose of Texas”)*

Having tired fingers,

A blogger’s special trait,

A misplaced key in spelling

We can appreciate…

Those pesky hidden passwords

Fat fingers often botch,

Especially late at night

As if we’re drinking scotch!

Persnickety passwords—

How do we get along

With thinking up the new ones

To access what we’ve done…

A finger slip or poor mem’ry

Can put us in a jam,

The one who remembers all his

Really is THE MAN!

Those woman bloggers surely

Are like my Mother dear,

Who “keyboarded” professionally

Before keyboards were here!

She banged out frequent letters

On an old OLYMPIA,**

Her fingers deftly pushing keys–

It got in her blood!

I must be doing something right

For I go on and on,

Making quickie poetry

Until the break of dawn…

I really don’t talk much at home

But get on-line I spurt

Out reams of conversation

Until my fingers hurt!

I remember most passwords

Because they all are new,

I’ve lost track of a couple–

Forgot the key words, too!

I have two “Linked-In” ‘dentities,

Only one I can access…

I lost the link to the other

But they both work, I guess.

I’m rambling on while singing

A little out of tune,

It really is too early

For I got up way too soon…

I had to check the banking

And we’re finally in the black,

Got to get some serious work done

Before the red comes back.

I really have to end this

But my limbered fingers fly

Across the borrowed keyboard

Beneath a watchful eye…

I have to watch for spelling

And the fumbling finger fail,

If I don’t get the words just right

I’ll land in Spellcheck jail!

–Jonathan Caswell

* is the tune it is sung to…!

** Olympia manual typewriter (non-electric–using FINGER POWER!!!)