Every single night,
Between the dusk and dawn.
I wake up with a fright,
To find my lover gone.

Is she visiting the bathroom?
Did she go to poop or pee?
If so, she’ll be back soon.
Flushed with victory.

Could she not fall asleep?
Did she move to the recliner?
Did she find another cabin?
Am I on an ocean liner?

Did she go to walk the dog?
I heard no toenails on the floor.
Did she leave for someone else?
Does she not love me anymore?

Did she flee to see her sister?
Did I do something wrong?
That’s probably not the answer,
She wasn’t gone that long.

Did she need a midnight snack?
Perhaps she’s feeling yucky.
Was she murdered in her sleep?
I would never be that lucky.

Country Klutz

Just got paid,
Got a brand new car.
Time to grab my baby,
Head to the ER.

Gonna ask her Momma,
Have to ask my Dad,
“Do you think it’s broken?”
“‘Cause she’s limpin’ real bad.”

Time to get married,
Gonna get her a ring.
Just as soon as a doctor
Inspects that wasp sting.

Today’s at the orthopedist,
Hopping through the door.
I have a bad case of deja vu,
‘Cause we’ve been here before.

When she hears or sees an insect,
She’ll attempt a triple lutz.
She’s on the ground, whimpering.
I’m married to a klutz.

The Attack on Granny’s Ranch

Editor’s Note: I was at least twelve at this point, since my Grandpa was already gone, but I’m not sure when this was. I hope it wasn’t much later than that!

Once or twice almost every year,
We would visit my Grandma’s ranch.
I would always shed a joyous tear,
Visiting another family branch.

My parents left me with my Granny,
And went off to places still unknown.
She was not really much of a nanny,
So I felt almost home alone.

As I started to drift asleep,
I was quiet as a mouse.
I didn’t hear a peep.
I was the man of the house.

I woke a little bit later,
I could hear a rustling sound.
I didn’t want to wake her,
But there was someone on the ground.

My uncle had at least two tractors,
Parked under the shed.
These I assumed were factors,
For robbing our homestead.

At this point, I saw two choices.
One, Granny pulled out a gun.
The other, hearing stranger’s voices,
She told me to go get one.

I really hoped she had a pistol,
Hidden deep in her nightgown.
Otherwise, clear as crystal,
I was going to shoot a bandit down.

I waited for her to hand me a key,
Hidden behind her necklace cross.
“This is to the gun cabinet, Sweetie.”
I would then become the boss.

There was another option, of course.

I woke Granny, who was trying not to cuss.
While I began to panic, she said,
“Nobody’s gonna bother us.”
“Now, you go back to bed!”

Well, that was anti-climactic.

When I looked out at morning light,
I found we had not been alone.
Sometime in the dark of night,
The cows had come back home.


A grandmother wants control of her title.
Choosing what she is called seems vital.
Some will never be “Grams” or “Granny.”
They want to be called “MomPlus” or “Sammy.”

Grandfathers don’t really seem to care.
Since we get called random terms here and there.
I have been “Grandpa”, “Papa”, “Grampy”, so to speak.
All of those were just in the past week.

Next time, I’ll have another name.
I will probably have myself to blame.
I said my name was King Frank-Bob.
We’ll see if that’s accepted by the mob.

I answer to the term my grandkids choose,
Either good or bad, win or lose.
Call me a saint or call me a sinner.
Just don’t call Grandpa late for dinner.

Murder By Reason of Poetry

You have a big ol’ belly,
And you’re kinda smelly.
You remind me of Mom.

You seem kinda bitchy,
And you’re always itchy.
You remind me of Mom.

You’re a wee bit lazy,
And you’re kinda crazy.
You remind me of Mom.

You’re always nappin’,
And your gums are flappin’.
You remind me of Mom.

You know where this is leading,
I’m lying here bleeding.
Just for singing this song.

(Don’t ever sing silly songs to your dogs. It can get you killed. Apparently.)

Love, Today

I wonder what my Love is doing right now?
A question for the ages.
The beginning of many love scenes.
You care about someone wherever they may be.

Here’s how it goes down today.
I’m at work, waiting to get picked up.
We’re going to dinner with my Mom.
I’ve completed all possible tasks for the day.

“I wonder what my Love is doing right now?”
Hop onto Family Locator website
She’s shopping.
Hop onto the bank website.
Holy *&^#@#!!!

Back to Family Locator.
She’s still bloody there!
I’m starving!
Where the hell is she?
(Rhetorical. I just found her.)

So, now, I’m starving.
I’m broke.
I’m annoyed.

I don’t really want to know where she is.
Let’s just leave well enough alone.