The Poetaster

The Poetaster rhymes her silly rhymes,
so meaningless and trite, they are betimes
They lack the depth and substance of the great
and epic poems that speak of people’s fate.

Her ditties will not change a person’s mind
or move to greatness, any of mankind.

Continuing this incessant, shallow verse
appears to be her destiny or worse.

They’re sometimes shallow *and* don’t even rhyme,
and nothing ever borders on sublime.

©2013 P. Johnson


The Geese
congregate on the
Lake in the City because they feel
safe there. 
These havens are for when they
need food and fellowship.  They make these stops
on their way 
south, where it will be warm and sunny. And
they thumb their beaks at hunters.

They look down from their V shaped height, and
feel sorry for the White Geese,who are
slaves to men.  Their ends are sure,
and Pâté is scheduled.
And they can’t

©October 2012. Pam J.