Jack Frost

Jack Frost

As winter comes and darkness falls

A man comes out to play

This man who we all call Jack Frost

He sleeps during the day

And when our curtains close at night

And our eyes shut for sleep

This man who we all call Jack Frost

He comes up from the deep

The moon shines brightly down on him

And shows him where to go

This man who we all call Jack Frost

Must leave before sun glow

A painter of great works of art

His brush strokes there to see

This man who we all call Jack Frost

Leaves sights for us to see

And as the morning sun comes up

And wakes our sleepy heads

This man who we all call Jack Frost

It’s now time for his bed

Paris

Paris

As darkness fell along the Seine

This cool November night

La Tour Eiffel stood tall and proud

Aloft this place of might

As people left their homes for cheer

To laugh, sing songs, and eat

And time moved on from nine o’clock

The mood would soon change beat

That change in beat brought booms and bangs

As laughter turned to screams

And people ran, ran for their lives

There’s no hope left it seems

But then we saw what we’re about

A good and loving race

Where kindness reigns, see #PorteOuverte

The bad ones aren’t our face

Right now it is just still too raw

The heart ache needs to pour

But let’s do what the French do best

And open hearts and doors

Spoons

Spoons

I had these thoughts, they came to me

That I should go and write

A poem all about those spoons

Though forks may feature, right...

‘Cause spoons are great and bendy too

Though more for Uri Geller

A good friend to the king of pop

Whose moves were surely stellar 

See, I use spoons when morning comes

I like cornflakes the most

Though true to say I sometimes change

And treat myself to toast

But back to spoons, must not digress 

Their size important too

As some folk like their spoons quite big

Though small ones can work true

But folks it’s time to end these rhymes

We’ve had some fun with spoons

Though don’t forget about those forks

Whose prongs can make fine tunes