Jam – pears and rhubarb.

A baby poem.

Peaches are good though I like strawberries alot better.But im using peaches to tell a story here.You and him are broke up and he is with someone else. But yet,your ex wants to still come into your peach orchard.If your peaches wasnt good enough the first time,what makes him think any differently the second time?

I just can’t get enough.

Negativity breeds contempt.

A little girl can’t decide what to take on her picnic.

Poem.

A short “early days” rhyme for my granddaughter, now living in Oz.

This is the cannery experience which I did for 25 years, till they downsized and I became flotsam. I wrote this on a piece of paper towel at 4:05am, the graveyard shift, while running the seamer, a machine that seals lids on filled cans of product. Mind numbing work, the blue collar dollar.

One day a strange man in blue came to me and motioned for me to join him in his stage coach. I got in and went on a rather silly ride.