If the Statue of Liberty could talk,

What would she say to citizens today?

She might say, “I would not give the keys to my heart

To everyone by capricious whim.

There are those I would keep out,

And those I would invite in.

I would open the doors each day

And smile at those who come to work or pray,

An island greeting those who are ready to share,

The opportunities and love discovered here.

Those who come with bigotry and hate

And those who haven’t learned to celebrate


I would ask them to wait.

My land is home for the weary, a place of hope,

A place they can adjust and learn to cope,

A place to shake fear from timid heart,

Leaving violence behind and getting a new start.

The keys to my heart would only be given

To those with new lives to begin.

This country was founded on blood, grit, and tears.

On that basis I have lasted for years.

To those who are here to prey

And steal all precious dreams away,

There should not be left any doubt.

I would select many to come in,

But there are those I would keep out.”

August 4, 2017

The Monster from Forest Drive

English: Raider's Road, Forest Drive Sunlight ...
English: Raider’s Road, Forest Drive Sunlight shines through the new growth on the pine trees on the Raider’s Road, Forest Drive. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


The Monster From Forest Drive




A monster lived at forest edge,


Right at the end of Forest Drive,


His neighbors chose to lock their doors,


If they wished to stay alive.




Both his wings had been broken,


With a cane he could hardly walk,


He didn’t look mean or scary,


But he could talk real monster talk.




There were rumors he lived in the basement,


Others said the attic was his home,


He was often seen on cloudy days,


And at night he chose to roam.




He shuffles, he stumbles,


As he howls at the moon,


He is sure to catch one of you,


If he’s not caught real soon.






No one knew where he came from,


He suddenly appeared one day,


The neighborhood was upset he was there,


Because he took their place to play.




Their meeting place had been at forest edge,


Where their bonfires often lit the sky,


He built his house on their spot,


Without telling them his reason why.




He snorts, he chuckles,


He’s covered with blood and gore,


Waiting for the lights to go off,


He stands quietly by the door.




The witches of the cul-de-sac,


Stirred up a powerful brew,


They thought their potion lethal,


But he said, “Thank you.  I’ll have two.”




To their surprise he took a sip,


Without losing his feeble mind,


There seemed to be no aftereffects,


Except the foot he dragged behind.




He shuffles, he stumbles,


As he howls at the moon,


He is sure to catch one of you,


If he’s not caught real soon.




Blood-red wine was his favorite drink,


And bones he chewed for lunch,


All thought his manners were impeccable,


Royal blood would be their hunch.




One dark night they gathered,


To discuss his solitary ways,


He had made them all uncomfortable,


For five years, two months, and ten days.




He snorts, he chuckles,


He’s covered with blood and gore,


Waiting for the lights to go off,


He stands quietly by the door.




In a large casket they sealed him,


No more to see the light,


Security police accidently let him loose,


And he slipped quietly into the night.




Somewhere in this vast country,


He was last seen entering a town,


Hunters of all kinds searched the woods,


But no monster could be found.




He shuffles, he stumbles,


As he howls at the moon,


He is sure to catch one of you,


If he’s not caught real soon.




He snorts, he chuckles,


He’s covered with blood and gore,


Waiting for the lights to go off,


He stands quietly by the door.




Separated by Hearts

Series of sketches showing various angry facia...
Series of sketches showing various angry facial expressions. (Photo credit: Villanova University Digital Library)

I listened and watched as the red angels,

Filled the air with cackles and shrieks,

Building up courage as they swooped and dove,

This was not the time for those who were weak,


Their senses were heightened as they prepared for war,

Tributes were given to blood sisters and brothers,

Blood sprinkled the clouds as they ripped and sliced,

To prove their worth they cut each other,


The chief hurled insults across the abyss,

“If you were smart, it wouldn’t come to this,

You could share the world and rule by my side,

Agree and be safe. Seal it with a kiss!”


Indignation or revulsion should greet such sweet insult,

When the brightest of the white angels headed this way,

His facial expression never changed,

And I tried to guess what he might say,


Red with passion the chief’s body glowed,

Her snarl was replaced by a smile,

“Come lie with me as you used to do,

I’ll light the desires you haven’t had for awhile,”


The bright one shrugged but didn’t move,

“It is in my heart that I’ve made my choice,

I will continue to be open and true,

Yet as I gaze upon your ripe warm body, I know I’ll miss you!”


Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him,

“I’ll make you wish you had never been born,

How dare you reject my heart,

And leave me a woman scorned.”


“Sleep Well!”

"My cat."
Image via Wikipedia

The scouts
gathered around the crackling fire,

And asked me
about my lonely life,

Why didn’t
you travel across the seas,

Why didn’t
you take a wife?


“I’m growing
old, though I’m still young,

And I’ll
share a tale or two,

I didn’t have
gray hair a few years ago,

But now,
that’s what love will do,


I pointed to
my locks of hair,

Which they
could clearly see were white,

“I’m going
to tell you about a creature,

Who might
bite your neck tonight!”


“These Ouachita
Mountains hide some ghouls,

Oh, dear
ones, they’re hidden very well,

watching you day and night,

You might
fall under one’s spell,”


“I was smug,
I didn’t believe the tales,

The forests
looked so peaceful and green,

How could
creatures be lurking about,

everything appearing so serene?


It was noon,
or maybe three or four,

I strolled
about the forest green,

In a dense
thicket I discovered a clearing,

And the
prettiest girl I’d ever seen,”


Her hair she
brushed until it gleamed,

I was
blinded by the glare,

Her lips
were full and rosy,

I was
captivated by her cold dark stare,


“What brings
you here?” she demanded,

I didn’t
quite know what to say,

I thought
the forest was mine to explore,

But she said
I’d gone astray,


I was off
the given trail, it’s true,

I shouldn’t
have wandered there,

Her rosy
lips pulled back into a snarl,

Revealing fangs
she was ready to bare,


She crouched
low before she sprang,

The forest
suddenly grew quiet,

One thought
flashed through my mind,

“I’m going
to die tonight!”


Now I’m not
a man to brag or boast,

I knew I had
but a few seconds to live,

I cried out, “You’ve already captured my heart,

And I still
have love to give!”


statement caught her by surprise,

She hesitated
while in midair,

Her fangs
drew back into a smile,

Her kiss
caught me square,


It was everything
I needed,

It was wonderful
and took my breath,

She held me
and loved me,

Her kiss was
not a kiss of death,


All this
happened just a few years ago,

Scouts, you’ll
just have to believe,

These Ouachita
Mountains will tell you true,

Because I know
they won’t try to deceive,


If you
should happen on strange folk,

Who snarl
and show their fangs,

Back away
and run for help,

Before they
have hunger pangs,


And love,
let it be your last resort,

Just before
your final fight,

See these
wounds upon my neck,

That’s why
my hair is white,


Yes, I love
her, I truly do,

But I wouldn’t
recommend my fate,

She thirsts
after my blood,

I have to
hurry, my love can’t wait,”


“If you
wander away from the group,

Be sure to
take a friend,”

Their eyes
were wide and very big,

As my tale
came to an end,


“The forest
is beautiful but take care,

Creatures live
close by the trail,

Now I must
hurry and be inside where it’s safe,

Remember my
story, and be sure to Sleep Well!”


Hockey and Halloween

Pumpkinhead 4326
Image by PKMousie via Flickr


(a Halloween tale)


Halloween night all creatures were astir,

Ready for
anything gross that might occur,

curdling screams and fights were about,

In the midst
of the mayhem a hockey game broke out,

From out of
the sky Count Dracula swooped down,

His voice
boomed out and was heard all around,

“I’ll issue
a challenge to any blood thirsty team,

You’re clumsy,
ugly and only good in your dreams,”

The ghouls,
zombies, and the walking dead,

Laced up
their blades and warmed up with Fred,

The Count
secretly had made a great plan,

gathered the quickest in all the land,

Wolves were
howling to get into the game,

Vampires and
goblins wanted the same,

The Count handpicked his team with cunning and care,

Freddie was
more casual but he continued to stare,

“Count, I
think you’ve got tricks up your sleeve,

Yet we’ll
give you a battle, I do believe,”

“Ah, Mr.
Krueger, there’s more than you think,

will be the referee on this rink,”

With evil
grin the referee took his place,

“Are you
ready now to go face to face?

No sticking,
no slashing, the rules are clear,

If you don’t
play by the rules, you’re outta here!”

Jason, the
goalie, said, “Count, your entrance was slick,

Are you good
enough on ice to pull a hat trick?”

Fights were
frequent and often quite gory,

But there’s
much more to this bedtime story,

Hockey fans
gathered from all over the land,

Until there
was no place to sit or stand,

curdling screams continued to abound,

For hockey
fans are the most rabid around,

Tear off
his head,”  “The referee stinks,”

“Have any of
you ever been on a rink?”

The penalty
boxes were filled with players galore,

But the fans
kept shouting, “Blood! I want more!”

The game
continues from one year to the next,

If you see a
game starting, send me a text,

For I’ve
heard many screams and seen fights all about,

And I’m
willing to miss mayhem if a hockey game breaks out.

“Be Aware”

I know why she glares,

But I do not dare,

Challenge that penetrating gaze,

Her crisp dress of white,

Contrasts sharply in the light,

With the blood from her lips,

And from her fingertips,

She admonishes, “Be aware,”

From the past she stares,

Remembering the students running,

And the gunman’s cunning,

Herding the hostages up the stairs,

Having caught them unawares,

Fingers clutched, she is still tense,

None of the shots made much sense,

So she sits with angry glare,

Remembering all that happened there,

A portrait changed by the artist’s flair.

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