BogRhymes

Independent,
Prime was he.
Tony Gregory,
R.I.P.

At nine…
There was frost on my grass.
At ten…
Threw some more on,
The fire…
At eleven…
Thanked God for full glass.
At twelve…
Went outside to,
Expire…

Is it the eggs or the chicken to blame,
For this crazy, and deadly omelette?
Too much to unscramble or explain,
Even God, hasn’t stopped the bombs yet.

The fights might be dodgy,
But I like ice hockey.
Saw Ali and Frazier,
One strange, one stranger.

My woman is spot on, and she corrects me,
The glass is half full, not half empty.
How bleak this world would be, how dull,
Were the days half empty and not half full.
There would be no hope; no promise of plenty,
Were we all to see the glass half empty.
So this year I’m resolved; by push or pull,
To turn every half empty into a half full.
In every choice as it will present me,
I’m choosing the half full, not the half empty.