Tag Archives: limerick poetry


He wanted to talk it all out,

Inappropriate places no doubt…

Instead of his “yack”

He must take back,

Discerning on where it slips out!

This stuff has wonder and pain,

Feeling less and less again…

Solutions employed

May bring some joy,

But is it worth the tiny gain?

Wants his improvement shared,

But is thee missus prepared?…

If only himself

Is it worth the wealth,

In anticipation he’s already erred.

What is the worth of it all,

Potency naturally falls…

All connected

As God directed,

After we run we crawl!

Surely, God isn’t bad,

Gotta live with whatever we had…

Sometimes improvements

Aren’t worth movements,

Better to be happy not sad!

–Jonathan Caswell


For the second or third time he hears–

“Do you want a Santa suit, dear?”

It’s getting weird

He hasn’t a beard,

But the message is getting clear!

She’s making a “Mrs. Claus” dress,

You can probably figure the rest…

We go on display

Around home anyway,

And me joining her seems best!

She asks every time we meet,

Another with a “Santa” suit complete…

I really don’t care

A Santa suit to wear,

But she’s got other plans (!) for her sweet.

–Jonathan Caswell


Many moons ago,

A father’s child wanted to know…

How long it took

That children forsook,

Wonders of firefly glow?

Was life really bad,

To not be a child, said Dad…

Imaginative play

Keeps most pain away,

Until we’re more armor-clad.

Even “hardened” adults dream,

Although different than children in theme…

“On till morning”

Dreams are aborning,

Innocence is gone, but not the dream!

Jonathan Caswell


P.-A. spells Passive -Aggressive,

Big words that look impressive…

But it’s not cool

If hit by the fool,

When he thunders his cheap shot expressive.

The P.-A. tends to build

Up grudges —misunderstood will…

Don’t know how

To communicate his row,

Until the buildup may kill!

He’s tried getting across

The issue he thinks he’s lost…


Til confiding eventually,

In someone else at their cost!

–Jonathan Caswell


A “Just a Poem” poem!

He dreams of a future time

When MAYBE it’ll be fine…

Laying next to

A woman who,

Is willingly reclined.

Energy isn’t much,

But he’d like a touch…

Going both ways

Nights and days,

If love allows him such.

Lovingly touching his wife,

Went cold in married life…

Can he recover

Attitudes of a lover

Before death ceases strife?

–Jonathan Caswell


Grew up with an absent Dad,

Mostly Mom, the parent he had…

Sheltered childhoods

Aren’t always good,

Not having male role models–bad!

His Mom tried the best she knew how,

Discipline, answering questions  till now…

But left much desired

On how a man’s fired,

Nor what in a man is allowed.

So men saying “all that’s normal,”

Didn’t help his clashes hormonal…

Took a long time

Accepting “who am I,”

But understands better his story’s moral!

–Jonathan Caswell


Ken and I were talking,

Along came Ron A. walking…

Listening in

How N Scale began,

While two “old heads” were talking!

The early days were rough,

American–very few stuff…

Some ran

To beat the band,

And some ran very rough!

Ken’s brother had N scale,

Imagining “New Haven” rails…

Choices he made

In what track was laid,

And I could join in on the tale.

My experience came to the fore,

Early N scale was a chore…

Limited lines

And imaginative minds,

Made what worked into more!

–Jonathan Caswell

GOOGLE IMAGES—A “Postage Stamp” train set seen on Ebay, similar to my first train set…about 1970-?  Sold by Minitrix…the little engine was a European styled 0-6-0-T steam engine that ran really good!!!  The train cars were of American design.  🙂


She did the best she could.

Compromising…never would…

Caught in quarreling

One person’s snarling,

For weeks her foes withstood.

He applied one day,

Advance notice no one gave…

Expecting to thrive

He Did a nose dive,

He didn’t understand that way.

She was a proficient cleaner,

Ran afoul of one much meaner…

Lady with teeth

Viewed her as beneath,

Unworthy of their “Team Cleaner.”

He trained at one post,

Which he liked the most…

Then was confused

Told  to be used,

For more than just the meat roast!

Her showdown began

Surrounded by the “clan”…

The one attacker

She was no slacker,

No one else spoke up against the spam.

I wish the folks who had sent him had prepared,

Disabilities he had and had aired…

How to use him best

Informational request,

To that agency should have been shared!

She that very night quit,

Putting her spin on it…

He went down in flames—

Neither one stood for games,

Too bad,–they made the best of it.

–Jonathan Caswell.


We are climbing to Garnet Mountain,

Site of a Garnet Mine…

Adirondack river fountains

Ease the gentle mountain mind.

We are running up the river

Going to her mountain home…

Place where she was born and raised up,

Place from which she’ll never roam.

Climbing Garnet Mountain

Visiting the mine…

History from stone and sweat

Cherished over time!

–Jonathan Caswell


Red-haired women says he,

Create incredibly…

The more he finds

If no one minds,

He’ll expose their work regularly!

Now he won’t sell anyone short,

Creative people are good sport(s)…

Of women and men

Poetry is his ken,

Provided he can hold  down the fort.

A redhead he used to be,

His freckles are proof you can see…

Certain ones are

His favorites so far,

He loved finding talent beauty!

–Jonathan Caswell