One Morning at the Fruit Farm

Blueberries don’t grow on trees

Or thorny vines

But on bushes


In round berry clumps very much

Like grapes only

They ripen separately


Gently loosen the blue berries in

Each clump and

Leave the green


Dislodge sleeping mosquitoes from

Underneath each bush

And get bitten


Other berry pickers concentrate on

Filling buckets beneath

Threatening summer clouds

Real Muscles Like Exercise

My body’s tired

It wants to rest

My mind is not

It’s just a pest

It thinks up plans

And dreams and goals

Until my head just

Nods and lolls


What will I do

With a brain that won’t stop

It thinks and it thinks

It plans ‘til it pops

I’ll drink up hot tea

And take an Advil

To make this poor mu-

scle rest quiet and still

This Morning

Foggy foggy dawn

Fading gently through the morn

Singing softly of a midnight storm

That did not happen like the weather man had said

Foggy foggy dawn

Lifting slowly, soon will be gone

Green early spring shows in the lawn

And birds wait quietly ‘til it is safe to fly