Dead Eye Dick

© 2014 by P Michael Biggs

Dead Eye Dick

He once took sick

He was so thick

His heart wouldn’t tick

Dead Eye Dick was mean

He was never clean

Once, when eighteen

He drank kerosene

Dead Eye Dick died

He never took a bride

No town’s folk cried

When Dead Eye Dick …

You know … passed away

Millie Moo

© 2014 by P Michael Biggs

Millie Moo

She was blue

She had the flu

And never drank her brew

Millie Moo

Never wore a shoe

Since she was two

Millie Moo made do

Millie Moo

She moved to Peru

She had a view

Of the ocean blue

Millie Moo

Could not do

What she tried to do

That’s too bad

Dear Millie Moo

Food

© 2014 by P Michael Biggs

Boil me an egg

Don’t make me beg

I need it now

To me its chow

I'm as hungry as can be

Why can’t you see?

If you feed me soon

I won’t look like a prune

If you were my friend

You’d help me mend

You’d feed me soon

Before I swoon

It’s time to eat

Don’t serve me a beet

Bring that food near

And I will cheer

The sign is clear

This poem’s end is near

You Can Choose

© 2015 by P Michael Biggs

You can sit on your bottom.

Or you can dream.

You can draw

Or you can scheme

You can think, or cry or sigh

You can write or sing, oh my.

You can lean, discern and love

You can walk and talk and wear a glove

You can offer a hand or fist.

You can walk in the rain and enjoy the mist

You can protect someone’s back

Or live with great lack

You can be blue when you get a bruise

Wanna wear new shoes, you get to choose

You can snooze, you can spew

You can stew, you can woo

Don’t confuse – just choose

Romance

© 2015 by P Michael Biggs

Take a chance on romance

It’s a lovely lovely dance

You don’t have to prance

When you dance with romance

Some try a fan dance

Others do the corn dance

Just don’t lance dance

When you are engaging in romance

At first glance

You may take a chance

You may go into a trance

When you consider romance

Advance toward romance

Honeymoon in France

And if by chance

You find romance

Then dance, dance, dance

Sid

© 2015 by P Michael Biggs

I have a friend, his name is Sid

My friend Sid is a big kid

Want to know what Sid did

His tracks made a skid

That’s what Sid did

Sid left in a hurry

He had to scurry

He saw a snow flurry

And he was worried

Sid left real fast

And if you asked

The die is cast

This poem can’t last

Trains

(c) P Michael Biggs 2015

Trains don’t have brains

They don’t use chains

We usually need cranes

To lift a heavy train

I would strain when pushing a train

I doubt it would budge, it would remain

And I would be in pain

From trying to push a train

Jane can’t push a train

She would be drained

Mr. Haynes and Wayne

Would fall down in the lane

When pushing a train

Don’t complain when pushing a train

Get a glass, sip some champagne

Sip away while you refrain

From straining to push a train