The brillig brinds had long died down The wabe had gone to sleep The slithy toves their gimble drown The mome raths lost their peep. All the shorf was calm and geep, A peaceful fugel filled the air, But calmness only runs so deep, Around the monster's lair. Young Jabberwok the mighty heir, Had grown into a beast, And sought our former hero fair, On his heart to feast. In fraptuous fields his mind would dwell, He'd pace from flomp to flounce, His sire's words remembered well, "When scrundled you should pounce." So lurking out to seek his foe, Gnashing… Read the rest
Category Archives: Peter’s Writings
Things Peter writes for his own benefit, not necessarily intended for or made available to the general public.
Healthy?
This slimy sludge from who knows where, Slithers coldly off the spoon, Then down my throat disgusting goes, So foul it makes me swoon. They say this stuff is good for me, Will make me tall and strong, Will give me muscles piled high, And hair grow lush and long. But 'seems to me that all of them, Are more than common plain, Giving me no evidence, To support their claims.
Living Room Circus
The living room has changed its form, No longer holding to the norms, Established by society, Of taste and propriety, For a room of this design, Should have an aspect most refined. But today a troop of clowns, Looted blankets all around, And with them built a monstrous tent, In the space for adults meant, Pressing benches, chairs and all, Into service as the walls. The comfey couch with bouncy seat, Is used by one who's planned a feat, As a vault to launch him high, For a trick none else would try, Soaring high in flips and twists, Watchers… Read the rest
Nonsense Song
Skip-de-doodle, hop along, Sing yourself a nonsense song, Loud and proud with power voice, Any words - they are your choice, Holler higher than the trees, Hear it echo if you please, Squawk like chickens laying eggs, Thump the ground with dino legs, Chirp and roar your heart's content, Heeding not who's ear is bent, Not a care what others do, Sing it simply to please you.
Common Denominator
When everyone must be the same, In how and what they do, Meet a standard clearly set, And send results to experts true, Anyone who stands apart, Ahead those in the rear, Must be dragged clear to the back, By force or threats and fear, Lest those failing to keep up, Should have their feelings hurt, Everyone in syncronous step, Must wallow in the dirt.
Gratitude
A few years ago, I was asked to share something for the youth standards night hosted by our church for kids between 14 and 18. These events sometimes get a bad rap as being forums for old people to tell young people about the things they shouldn’t be doing, and as a result the leaders organizing this particular one wanted to lighten things up some. They asked those of us participating and sharing messages to focus on something the youth “could” do. I was to talk about how the youth could be grateful.
The first thing that came to mind … Read the rest
Writers Block…
Roughly a year or two ago, I got a bug in my ear to try my hand at writing fiction. On a whim early one morning after dropping Sydney off at her weekend babysitting job, and before Liz and the kids woke up, I started to outline a story that I thought might eventually morph into a novel. I had no intentions of ever publishing said work, but I thought it might be fun to go through the process. Initially it was fun… words flowed rather freely, characters developed into more than just a name, and the story seemed to … Read the rest
The Bear’s Lament
He loves me or he loves me not, I guess I'll never know, With claws like these to pluck the flowers, My progress is quite slow. The petals on these flowers too, Are oh so very small, To pull them one by one apart, Is no fun at all. Since the plants won't play along, To help me know my fate, I guess I'll leave it up to luck, To help me find a mate.
Bottle Brush
The bottle brush in my backyard Bloomed today it seems Came on out to say hello And feed the honey bees
Too Early
He started out rough in this world full of strife, His incomplete body just clinging to life, Tangled in wires with tubes up his nose, Will he pull through it? none really quite knows. But we hope and we pray both the doctors and him, Will clear the next hurdle and bring home a win. Slowly he strengthens and grows bit by bit, As parents stand near him and fretfully sit, Holding his hand through the little round door, Grateful for that much, but still wanting more. As days follow days and merge into weeks, Life catches hold and it… Read the rest