The Moon has moods and phases,
And faces that it hides,
The Moon reflects the Sun’s rays
And tugs at ocean tides.

The Moon’s our dearest cousin,
Inseparably spun,
The sixteen moons of Jupitar
Can’t match our precious One!

A hundred billion stars sashay
Themselves across our Milky Way!
Spiral Galaxy, our home,
Light encrusted honeycomb.

That atmosphere, what a gas!
Light as feather, clear as glass.
Like a coat some planets wear,
Here on Earth we call it Air!

It takes a lot of gall
to call
A Black Hole a ‘hole,’
at all.
Holes are empty things to fill,
These are dense, and denser still,
Matter in them packed so tight
That nothing leaves, not even light.
That’s why they’re black,
like blackest coal,
But also why they’re
not a hole.

This is the story
Of Dieter and Dale,
One is a hammer,
The other a nail!

Dieter goes Pound!
Dale he gets down’d!
It’s really quite simple
You’ve all heard the sound.

Dieter says POW!
Dale he says OW!!
Dieter says THWOP!
Dale he says STOP!

POW!
"OW!!"
THWOP!
"STOP!"
POW!
"OW!!"
THWOP!
"STOP!"
POW!
"OW!!"
THWOP!
"STOP!"
POW!
"OW!!"
THWOP!

That was the story
Of Dieter and Dale;
Dieter played hammer,
Dale played the nail!

Dieter’s moved on,
He’s feeling good!
Dale’s in a wall
Holding up wood!

the end!
 
©1999 Gary Turchin

Momma tells me it happens
All over the Earth,
But right now in our house
My cat’s giving birth!

There’s one kitty
Two kitties
Three kitties
Four!
Momma, Oh Momma!
There can’t be much more!

There’s Five kitties
Six
Seven
Eight…?!
Momma, Oh Momma!
Say isn’t this great?!

There’s Nine kitties
Ten
Eleven
Another?!!
Momma our cat is one strange kind of Mother!

There’s Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
more…?!
There’s not enough paper
To cover our floor!

There’s Seventeen
Eighteen!
Nineteen!
TWENTY?!
Why, She’s not a cat
She’s a Horn-of-Plenty!

‘Cause some cats have litters,
And some just a kitty;
But Momma, Oh Momma,
Ours had her own city!!!
 
©1999 Gary Turchin

Oh that TickleMonster, he’s a Pro!
And if your tickle-ish he’ll know,
Just where and when and how to act,
For with his tickles he’s quite exact.

Yes, that TickleMonster loves his work,
But beware wherever he may lurk!
He’s waiting for his chance to strike
With a tickle that’s not unlike…
THIS ONE!

©1999 Gary Turchin

Lucy hit a homer,
I saw it, I was there!
And by the way her bat cracked
I knew she hit it square.

She took off running like the wind,
Toward first base and more,
Her team was losing by a run,
Her hit could tie the score.

She rounded first, and didn’t stop
At second base or short,
Why should she now with home in sight,
And all her team’s support?

She circled third with fearless stride,
The basemen showed a scowl;
But when she scored the Ump was there,
To tell her it was "Foul!"

"You’re wrong," said Luce, "I saw it land,
was way inside the line."
"Young lady get back up to bat,
The calls not yours, it’s mine."

So Lucy dusted off her pants,
And made her helmit square,
She set her eye for that next pitch
And drove it long and fair.

Yes, Lucy hit a homer,
She had to hit it twice,
That made it very special,
That made it very, very nice.

©1999 Gary Turchin

The Tear Brigade
Holds their parade
In Sad Sonya’s eyes.
They march in rows,
Around her nose,
While Sad Sonya cries…

 
by Gary Turchin