Some people have this ability to make you feel,

Shaken, coughing, snotty, and altogether ill.

I’ve met them before, and I know you have as well,

For though I know it’s rude to say, you simply don’t look swell.

These people are an illness, and, darling, here’s the cure,

Don’t let them into house and home, don’t give in to their allure.

Shut the door in their face, don’t bother to be politely vague,

Or this simply cold, you’re struggling with, will turn into the plague.


Closing His Eyes


He closes his eyes,

And there he is.

An Amazonian treasure hunt.


He closes his eyes,

And there he is.

A hero on the battlefront.


He closes his eyes,

And there he is.

Travelling to the great Bombay.


He opens his eyes,

And now he’s back.

In the classroom, dull and grey.




Ask the dying man the value of a year,

For he is the one who’ll know.

A year will buy him time to make amends,

To make friends of all his foes.


And for the value of an hour, you need only ask,

The boy who took a chance.

He went to the girl he loved and told her so,

Began their future romance.


The value of a second is easily seen,

When you watch the woman who barely missed,

The falling object that would have struck her dead,

She avoided her name on Death’s long list.


For the value of time is ever-changing indeed.

The time most valuable; is the time you need.








Suzy is a greedy girl,

Who always wants some more.

Forever a new toy, never the old,

The old is such a bore.


Tommy is getting quite so big,

He never did say no.

Cake and sweets and apple pies,

In his mouth; they go.


Anna is a greedy kid,

Who always gets so cross.

When she isn’t the one in charge,

For Anna is the boss.


Mary has a thousand books,

All so pretty on her shelf.

And she has read every single one,

Even the ones she wrote herself.


And in the end, don’t we all?

Have wants we can’t ignore?

For we humans are a greedy bunch,

It makes us strive for more.










They say that a minute

In a lover’s embrace

Passes like a second

A heartbeat might outpace.


They say that a minute,

With your finger to the flame

Is like days and hours passing

As you’re only feeling pain.


I say now that a minute

Feels like many years combined

When on the phone you hear a voice

Saying you’re next in line.