There’s a man in his bed counting sheep But it hasn’t been helping him sleep Would it be credible Eating an edible Now he slumbers with nary a peep
By Earl W. Pearl3 years ago in Poets
Hinky Pinky Moe My big toe Mary ate a fig While the dog did dig Hinky pinky Moe * There once was a lass named Mary Who was very scary
By Mother Combs (Sharon)3 years ago in Poets
Hickory dickory dock We go round and round the clock Hearing nothing but tick tock Mary lost a sock * Peter invested in the stock.
Books on a shelf Books in a row Books in a library Books in a bookstore * Books under bed Books on the nightstand Books in a nursery
In a land of dreams and golden seams, Where wealth flows like shimmering streams, Lies a tale of riches, untold and true,
By Anim K.3 years ago in Poets
If you see a dog On your porch Or if one approaches Remember to smile They can smell fear 🐕 If you see a shark On the water
By The Invisible Writer3 years ago in Poets
In realms beyond our grasp, a code divine, God Mode unveiled, a power to align. With keystrokes typed, control transcends,
By Kelly Emma3 years ago in Poets
In shadows cast by screens, a silent storm, Whispers of desire, hearts adrift, forlorn. Tales of passion, tangled webs they weave,
In my closet, neatly hung with care, A pair of pants, a fashion affair. Fabric whispers stories, threads of time, A canvas for moments, both mundane and prime.
What are you doing Don’t eat that Stop that Get over here Get that out of your mouth Go lay down Go outside Get inside
Old Mother Combs, when she wanted to stray Would fly through the sky on her broom made of hay. Poor Mother Combs had a home covered in bricks.
A squirrel ran up a tree. To find some nuts to fill him with glee. He found some nuts, just the right size, and squirrelled them in his mouth, which doubled in size.
By James Green3 years ago in Poets
