Slot Pull

~ John Ellsworth ~ Leave a comment

Many ships have casinos.
Casinos help cruises make money.

Cruises need to make money
Since everything else is so cheap.

You can play the slots alone.
Watching your money fade away.

After losing alone gets boring, 
You can join a slot pull. 

A slot pull is a group of people
Taking turns on the same machine. 

A slot pull is actually a triumph
Of peer pressure.

You don’t make money on slots.
You have the receipts to show. 

Slot pullers all know you don’t
Make money playing slots.

So, let’s pool our money,
And we’ll all get rich!

It’s actually a fun way
Spending time with new friends.

If you win,
You share the riches. 

When you lose, 
You share the blame.

Plus, you can wander off
To get another drink.

But turning $20 into $7
Is not really getting rich.

Even if you did spend
An hour playing slots. 

Rats

~ John Ellsworth ~ Leave a comment

This Spring, there are rats.
They run around my yard.
I know that I can’t chase them.
It’s really, really hard.

Mom called some guy.
He put little boxes around.
I don’t know what’s in them.
They don’t make a sound.

I want to taste the boxes.
I think they have some treats.
Dad won’t let me sniff them.
That means it may be sweets.

There’s a rat on the porch.
I think he’s playing dead.
I thought he tasted funny,
When I crunched his little head.

Dad made me drop the rat.
“Leave it!”, he squawks.
I think the rat smelled funny.
He smelled like the little box.

Tick Tick Tick

~ John Ellsworth ~ Leave a comment

April now is underway.
The Spring is sprung.
Bugs are out to play.

Alas, it must be getting near.
To complete the forms.
To shed a tear.

It’s soon will be the filing date.
Receipts and bills.
It’s getting late.

I started out late last year.
I did what I could.
I waited here.

Every year, it seems the same.
January fifth, I’m almost done.
April tenth, I’m quite insane.

April fourteenth, I will announce,
“I’ve sent the damn thing in!”
Hope the check won’t bounce.

Beer Store

~ John Ellsworth ~ Leave a comment

On a bus trip in Nepal,
I was feeling very small.
I asked the monk beside me
His advice.

He pondered for awhile,
Then he smiled a toothless smile,
He whispered to me,
“Consider rice.”

“Rice grains are sands of time.
And when they all align,
Sometimes you get risotto,
And sometimes beer.”

He drifted back to sleep.
I thought, “That’s pretty deep.”
I vowed to find the secrets
In the grains of rice.

It was getting pretty late,
So I tried to meditate.
Can a toothless grin
Still really be a smile?

Then I thought about the rice,
I guessed you roll the dice.
Sometimes you get risotto,
Sometimes beer.

Maybe the rice were nations,
Not just our daily rations,
And all of us have our jobs
To fulfill the world.

I let out a little groan,
My mind was fully blown.
The sleeping monk’s rice
Was a universal truth.

As I drifted off to sleep,
A little doubt did creep.
What if the smiling monk
Just wanted to be left alone?

At sunrise’s early glow,
I guessed I’d never know.
Sometimes deep thoughts
Aren’t really that profound.

There’s a beer store in the Himalayas.
In the clouds up in the sky.
But no-one ever goes there,
Since they’re already very high.

Rocky’s Saga

~ John Ellsworth ~ Leave a comment

Rocky went for a walk one day.
A perfect time to run and play.

He went out for adventure all alone.
He decided to run away from home.

Rocky had never run so far.
He never looked up to see the car.

He lay in the road a broken pet.
A stranger took him to the vet.

The doctor said, “He’s really ill.”
Crazy Dog Lady said, “Send us the bill!”

A doctor helped him through the pain.
The doctor said, “He’ll never run again.”

He recovered with a new Mom and Dad.
He thought his new life wasn’t bad.

Nothing in his new world was the same.
He even found he had a different name.

Rocky found that running really wasn’t hard,
If there are squirrels to chase across the yard.

Rocky’s been at home for ten years now.
He’s spoiled as much as Dad will allow.

His painful crash had a happy end.
Broken bones will sometimes mend.

All brave adventurers will roam.
Sometimes they find their perfect home.

You never know whom you will meet.
But look both ways when you cross the street.