There once was a writer from Dubuque.
He thought his success was a fluke.
Still, the notoriety, it’s said
Inflated his head
And his wife caught him with a girl half as cute.
Category Archives: Poetry by David E. Booker
Monday morning writing joke: “Writer at night”
There once was a writer at night
Who wrote all the way to daylight.
His stories were grand
About a sun-drenched land
But his descriptions were never quite right.
Photo finish Friday (and haiku): “Protesters in the rain”
Remember your heart
when you take your mind and storms
for a rainy walk.
Haiku to you Thursday: “Hangnail”
It’s gone to his head.
That’s what the foot doctor said.
Hangnail of the mind.
Filed under 2020, Haiku to You Thursday, Poetry by David E. Booker
Monday morning writing joke: “Writer from Hell”
There once was a writer from Hell
Who could tell his stories quite well.
Full of fire and hate
They kept his readers up late –
And then there was their god awful smell.
Filed under 2020, photo by David E. Booker, Poetry by David E. Booker
Haiku to you Thursday: “Old age”
Old age never ends. /
It lives like a thin shadow, /
Fattened by seasons.
Filed under 2020, Haiku to You Thursday, Poetry by David E. Booker
Monday morning writing joke: “Writer from Sandusky”
There once was a writer from Sandusky
An outdoor fellow and husky.
He wrote about the birds and the bees
And even humans on their knees
But he himself was never lucky.
Filed under 2020, Monday morning writing joke, Poetry by David E. Booker
Haiku to you Thursday: “Last”
If I were the last /
Would morning dew still matter? /
Asked the blade of grass.
Filed under 2020, Haiku to You Thursday, Poetry by David E. Booker
Monday morning writing joke: “Love at first pants”
There once was a writer of Romance /
Who had a stance on love at first glance. /
It was hard for him to believe /
Or even try to conceive /
That it could be done while still wearing your pants.
Photo finish Friday (and haiku): “New Year”
Gentle are the hopes
Open are the promises
Lighting the New Year.
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