Paper

Ten thousand trees
Fell down to their knees
And all for the reams of paper we waste.
When we wish to relate
Why not use a slate
Especially when
We intend
to erase.

Hospital Room

Does the door
Reach the floor
Ever?
Or merely hang
On the jamb
Forever?

            Does a tree reach the sky
            Does the ocean go by
            Or just stand
            On the land
            Forever?

Superman II

Superman really does fly
You know,
And butterflies really do grow
You know.

And kitty-cats wash
And beetle bugs squash
And angels live up in the sky
You know.

Little Boy Swimming

The pavement heat
Did greet
His small bare feet.
The world seemed hot
In his bathing suit.

But with his pail
He soon would meet
The water.

            Cyrano’s

Cyrano’s nose
As everyone knows
Was longer than anyone’s
Nose
  ever grows.

His agony was
(as everyone’s does)
That he couldn’t reach
ALL
That there was.

            Front Lawn

Little bush, little bush
Pared so severely
Pretty bush, pretty bush
Can you still breathe?

You’re so solid and round
So perfectly sound
Trimmed to perfection
Right for inspection
Can you still whisper into the breeze?

Do your branches hold birds?
Do the winds hear your words?
If I pushed you, could you tumble?

        Entranced

A flower has the power
To possess me so completely
That when I try to break the trance,
When I try to sing and dance,
When I wish to swing a lance,
No chance.

You see, a flower is so gentle
So perfect, so sincere
Its being there is so complete
That nothing can get near.
Nothing is more dear
Nothing is there, to revere,
More
Than a flower.

         Superman I

Oh I miss my little children
With their soft soft skin
And their teeny tiny questions
And their ways to win.

The little English books we read
Delightful German toys
All the pretty things and songs
That make two tiny little boys.

The kitty cat that has a mouth
The Gob-ul-ins that come
And eat the pillows in the night
Unless you hold them tight.

A four year old is just so bright
So sunny, such a gem
We know he’ll be a happy man
We think it.  He just can.

One day he said, his chest stuck out
As only small men can,
“You know what I will be, Suzanne?
  You know what?  Superman!”

   Color book Brown

Look at that hop-toad.
He can’t do that!
He jumped in the swimming pool
Just like splat.

He thinks he’s a frog.
Just look at him swim.
Hop onto my hand now.
Don’t cater to whim.

You’ll drown in that pool.
Your skin isn’t green.
Get out of there!  Good –
(before you get seen).

            Berry Blue Perfect

Blueberry look at you
Perfect and round
Waves of perfection
Have grown without sound
Fruit of a flower
Perfect and round.

            Noiseless persistence surrounded your moves.
  Noiseless. Persistent. Perfection behooves.
            House without roofs
            Skin without grooves.
            Shriveled, you’ll grow once again.

        For My Doctor

An ocean wave
An ocean wave
Nature’s perfect balance
            Every come for every go
            Every thing that one should know
            In and out, away, and from
            Every
                        One
                                    Together.
Rhythmic and yet undefined
Rolling like a feather.

What is it that we cannot do,
Humans that we are?
Very often we can see
A little similarity

            When we get together
            Humanity in waves.
Perhaps inspection is too close
At every human hair and flaw.
The wave breaks, too, and tumbles down.
Isolated, nothing shown, but
A perfect part.