A Poem ... Holland

Holland

Wooden shoes
  By the door
Sparkling swept
  Kitchen floor

Delightful smells
  Oven hot
Nasi Goreng
  In the pot

The Dutch
  Are a funny race
A twinkled grin
  On every face

Salted candy 
  Is a treat?
Herring smells
  Like mother’s feet
 
Cheese is eaten
  By the pound
Plenty of that
  To go around

Blue plates
  Adorn each shelf
Red tulips are
  Summer’s elf

Little country
  Under sea
Why do you mean
  So much to me? 

A Poem ... Was He Gross?

Was He Gross?

He didn’t know what to say

So he asked her out to play

She shook her dainty little head

Picked a book to read instead

He turned away rather morose

Was he ugly? Was he gross?

She flipped the pages lost in thought

“He talked to me and stole my heart!”

Perspective is a sneaky beast

Betraying us when we expect it least

Hold your head and walk with pride

Life only matters when you've tried.