BIRTHDAY LIMERICKS

KNIGHT

A sword made of steel in the hand

To fight back the demons of man

Do all that you must, so your deeds never rust

Protecting our castles of sand.

To a friend who had just lost his brother to suicide

SPINNING

When everything 'round you is spinning

And no one here seems to be winning

Hold those who are close, who know you the most

They were with you e'er in the beginning

To a friend who has had a lot of changes in his life.

TOO COOL FOR CAT

A cat is a cat 'cause he can

He mustn't mingle in matters of man

So when he lazies about, just grooming his snout

He's preparing the pips of his plan

FLYING SAUCER

Look up in the starry sky black

A bright blip appears from a crack!

It's an alien ship? Or a drug-induced trip?

No, a frizbee too late it goes THWACK!

For a friend who plays ultimate.

MEMORY LOSS

If only my head allowed me

To remember a thing past day three

I'd never forget, those fears that I've let

Fly away like a bird that is free.

For my cousin who has had 8 brain surgeries due to hydrocephalus, and has forgot things after every surgery. I admire him for his strong outlook on life.

OLDER

There once was a boy who grew older

But ne'er wisdom gained like Ol' Gultar

He sung like an elf, had 80 games on his shelf.

And rolled natural ones with his smolder.

This limerick was for me. It represented many elements when I was younger of playing a role-playing game my older brother created called Elf.

LOOFAH

LOOFAH

In the shower in the buff

I have my own loofah fluff

Free of an unsightly sponge

Always ripe with gunk and grunge.

Need no store-bought one for foam,

I carry mine where'er I roam.

Only matched by manly studs

I have no problem making suds

Bars or bottles full of soap

It don't matter, I still cope

Lacking loofahs women get

Sudding up from where I sweat

Every fiber of my bein'

Helps me foam and gets me clean

Never having troubles when

Creating foamy bubbled-skin

From ancient old Cro-magnon Man

Descent from their great-grandson's clan

I received these loofah genes

Strands of keratin proteins

Sudding up my shampoo's squirt

With my furry Sasquatch shirt

Used when I need foam in showers

Beast Man's Castle-Gray-Skull-Powers.

For when loofahs you should reach

Think of this unshaved man-peach

Fuzzy covered toe to chest

In a carpet, Nature's Best

Saving bathing soapy waste

Without using poofy lace

Hair will make me lead this pack

Growing loofahs on my back.

TIME'S TEACHERS

TIME'S TEACHERS

(Poem by G. Grant Smith, Revised by Jayson P. Smith)

Joy at times can fade like dusk of day,

And sorrow like a burning ball will dawn.

Giving light to all we hate and fear

Face these to rise return to laugh and cheer

As with time, joy's sun which once was gone

Returns, our darkest sorrows scare away!

We chase tomorrow, forget today,

Yet today, it's treasure is all we own.

A gift forgotten, alas forlorn

A pearled prize if lost to mourn

We own no tomorrows writ in stone

Today forgets us soon, e'er washed away

Moments are fleeting, blown like the breeze

But in each breath is life’s true lasting gift.

Pictures taken swirling in the soul

Each vision scrawled upon a neural scroll

For life’s gift is in each breath adrift

Though fleeting are the moments through the trees.

The past is gone, future sets to dream,

Yet dreams of future times will fade to gray.

For only now, in our time between

Is set the act of our important scene

Age shall dim our dreams which cannot stay

For past once stout shall sleep in slumbered scheme.

Sorrows though deep teach what joy forgets,

And joy reminds us what sorrows shall lose.

Give ear to these Teachers, hark and learn

Value their balance to them never spurn

For that which was lost, joy shall suffuse,

Sorrows shall flee when we turn from regrets.

My brother Grant sent me this poem for my birthday. He said he had a concept for a chiasmus poem, but struggled to get his words out. Ultimately, he turned to A.I. for help. I loved the concept of these dual teachers in each stanza. Originally, each stanza had only 4 lines and had no rhyme. I am a sucker for rhyme. I added the middle lines of each of the stanzas, made some rearranging, and made it rhyme. It now has internal chiasmus in each stanza and structural chiasmus using each stanza. I also made it have a 9-10 rhythm between each line to give a nice cadence. Enjoy!

SUMMER VACATION #1

 

HARVEY

Hoards of hoary humeri hauled from holey grounds

Hardened heads of horses heaped in heavy mounds

An ancient race of majesty these equines once would roam

Dry fields, green vales and river beds of Idaho their home.

Among the heaps of fossiled bones a set complete was framed

To stand as symbol, replica, and Harvey was it named.

Harvey the horse of Hagerman silently saluted

Four decades of adults and kids, just bones, but aptly suited.

Go and see the bones inside, at Thousand Springs State Park

Greet old Harvey at the start o'this journey you embark.

SUNDAY POEMS ACROSTIC #4

 

SEE THE FRUITS

Simple, subtle seeds of potent packaged pow'r 

Energies awaken, burst, grow forth, then flow'r

Every fruiting tree shall bear their seeded code

Tenets true thus said, you'll know them by what's showed

Have you seen their fruits, man? Study them, believe

Ever how they grow shall help your soul perceive

Fickle fruits confound and sour your inside.

Rip their rakish husks reveal the pith they hide

Understand this truth to know his servants sure

Inside every act you'll see their intent pure

Trees that bear God's fuits will always grow the same 

Sweetly fill your soul, give reverence to His name.

SUNDAY POEMS ACROSTIC #3

 

STUDENT IN THE PEWS

Silently amid the congregation, 

   savor every word, I must!

Tucked I am among sagacious giants, 

   gleaning from the wise and just

Underneath the shade of wisdom's shadow, 

   reaping lessons in repose

Downward falls the tender trickling teachings, 

   much in spite of my depose

Everyone around me like a river, 

   feeds my roots now deeply grown

No one asking for a pound or penny 

   for the precious seed they've sown

Thoughtfully they tend these chutes and buddings, 

   never knowing if I've bloomed

In this fertile living soil growing 

   fruits of wisdom I've consumed

Nurture now for time is short and fleeting, 

   one day I'll be moving on

Time ticks on that universal treasure, 

   only lost and can't be won

Here amid this holy congregation, 

   I will take their torch in hand

Ensign burning bright with faith-filled stories 

   guides me through new paths unplanned

Putting all my faith in God who giveth, 

   trusting much like those who taught

Each inspired pray-filled talk or lesson, 

   theirs will never be for naught

Woe to such who let the Word lay idle 

   on the shelf and gather dust

Student in the pews among the giants, 

   savor every word. You must!

SUNDAY POEMS ACROSTIC #2

PARABLE OF THE ROSEBUSH

Roses framed the house with pride 

  upon a jumbled bush revered 

Opulent and full with red each rose 

  to my green eye appeared

So thus it seemed to me my wife 

  a sadist's act with sheers and knife

Ensnared the fragile bush for trim 

  and cut each branch from trunk to limb

Bareboned and thin to my lament 

  beyond its bounds the bush was rent.

Utterly gone this shrub I thought, 

  but had I missed the lesson taught?

Such the soul of man becomes 

  when striped of all his fettered fears

HE--grows stout with fuller faith 

  and blooms much wiser yond his years.