Twas The Last Of The Poems

Twas the week before New Years and all through the Stream,
the silence was deafening with nary a laugh or  joyous scream.
The phone's bell was very silent and the email river ran dry
the great dane had no child to love on and he wanted to cry
the kids and the wife had some strange always gone temporary life
Shawn's days were empty of activity and his boredom was rife.

Happy New Year!!  I know it's a day early but who knows when I'll be home long enough to blog ... at least until Monday.

By the way, this will be the last of the bad poetry... at least until next year.


You know, not all poems are based on the rhythm of Night before Christmas, right? Some poetry has no beat at all and some has you twisting your words left and right. My favorite poet. Dr Suess.

Happy New Years to all of you living in that tube!

hmmmm.... maybe but Twas the season to use the word Twas. Dr. Suess, you are a very interesting person.... don't have a favorite poet but do have a favorite poem.

Crossing The Bar

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