Super Bowl Sunday
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A spectacle of athleticism and division
A source of negativity and derision
Money changing hands both in the field and in the stands.
All on display through the high def television.
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For nearly two hours you follow the ball
Downs, catches and rushes you watch them all
The win’s a surprise and the tears in their eyes
Show the many dimensions of football.
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(A couple of Quatrain Poems)
On the occasion of Robert Burns’ 259 birthday yesterday.
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My love is like red red roses
Uttered Bobby Burns to she
Newly sprung in June he supposes
Good thing he didn’t say it to me.
*
I know those new red red roses
Aphids and beetles do assail
While fragrance goes up our noses
They are blitzed by fungus and scale.
*
Bobby Burns you can keep your rose
I have no interest in the work.
Why is it a red rose you chose?
You didn’t do your homework, jerk.
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(A quatrain poem)
A Picture and a Poem 