Short Poems

Two lamps apart may brightly burn,
But brighter if you blend their flame;
This lesson may our Churches learn,
And all who worship in the same.

The tongs I send acceptance wait,
To greet you in your married state.
Where is the sugar? should you ask;
The sweets to find must be your task.

There is a hegemony
of mother
where the cucumber is real
but between my house
and yours
null turns into Titania
and a star
is not literal.

In the next hundred years
No one will ever point
To a great man's birth place.
This is the room that interferes
With national monuments.

on a youngster's
open umbrella

murmur of waves
unheeded by today's
wild daffodils

There was an Old Person of Buda,
Whose conduct grew ruder and ruder;
Till at last, with a hammer, they silenced his clamour,
By smashing that Person of Buda.

There was an Old Man of Peru,
Who never knew what he should do;
So he tore off his hair, and behaved like a bear,
That intrinsic Old Man of Peru.

Come knock your heads against this stone
For sorrow that poor John Thompson's gone.

If neither brass nor marble can withstand
The mortal force of Time's destructive hand;
If mountains sink to vales, if cities die,
And lessening rivers mourn their fountains dry,
"When my old cassock,' says a Welsh divine,
"Is out at elbows, why should I repine?'