My last post focused on my dismay over the tendency of modern poets to deal with depressing topics. For me, poetry has always been something much more positive. That attitude may have been shaped in my childhood by gentle nursery rhymes or thought-provoking nonsense poems by Dr. Seuss. Once, as a gift for either my birthday or Christmas, I received a volume of poetry, in which every day of the year, from January 1 through December 31, had a poem to go with it. Of course, the poem that went with my birthday, June 21, was my favorite. I don’t recall the exact words, but I remember it was about a little boy who was so happy to be able to play late outside because this day had more sunlight than any other.

Although prose is my preferred form of writing, I have tried my hand at poetry now and then. During my days at the Ohio Department of Education, I was sometimes called on to write a holiday poem or a poem recognizing the services of a staff member who was leaving. There was nothing complicated about my rhyming scheme; I simply strung couplets together to get my “message” across. Here’s an excerpt from a poem honoring the State Board of Education’s president:

Now when speaking before our President, you’d better know your limits. 
Keep to the point, do not digress, and stop when you’ve spoken five minutes.
She’s a partner with the Regents and with the Auditor, too.
But helping Ohio’s children, for her, is nothing really new.
She’s given them higher standards and put them to the test.
‘Cause Jennifer knows that’s the only way they’ll ever reach their best.

Such poems led the State Superintendent to designate me as the Ohio Department of Education’s unofficial poet laureate. Outside of work-related poems, I’ve written a number of others for chapbooks and self-published anthologies. One that was perhaps influenced by the nursery rhymes I enjoyed as a child is “If Your House Could Talk.”

If your house could talk, what would it say?
Would it tell about good things that happen each day?
Would it speak of children who love to have fun,
Playing hide’n seek till the day is done?
Would it remember a dog with a spot on its nose,
With long droopy ears and mud on its toes?
Perhaps it would talk about curtains of lace
Or the warmth of a glowing fireplace
Or the somber tone of a grandfather clock.
Would your house speak of such things, if it could talk?

If your house could sing, what song would it offer?
The blare of an anthem, or something softer?
Would it sing about rainbows that paint the sky?
Or maybe a ballad or a sweet lullaby?
Would it give us a song about a husband and wife
Working together to build a good life?
Would it tell of the trust and pleasure they share;
The joys they relish and the burdens they bear?
The wife crowned a queen, the man made a king?
Would this be the song that your house would sing?

If your house could sleep, of what would it dream?
Of horses that race down a bright moonbeam?
Of dogs that dance and cats that fly?
Of clouds that are made of pumpkin pie?
Perhaps it would dream of a better day
When war and sickness have passed away;
When hearts aren’t broken and tears aren’t shed;
When each child has a home with a comfy bed.
I can’t be sure but it would certainly seem
This would be great for your house to dream.

Now, my faithful friend, here’s the thing.
Your house can neither talk nor sing.
And sleeping is something it can never do.
I wish it were false, but it’s nonetheless true.
But before you let your spirit turn gray,
There is something to you I wish to say.
Though your house can’t talk or sing a song
And it can’t have a dream either short or long.
We should be happy, cause it’s plain to see
That you and I can do all three!

This poem appeared in a self-published chapbook, Hearts and Minds (Kindle Edition, 2014). There’s certainly nothing deep here. Just a few whimsical verses that express a self-evident truth in a novel, innocent way, as well as hope for a better future.

Another poem that has more of a teaching focus, but also reflects my fondness for puns is “The ‘Ology’ Poem.” It appeared in the chapbook of the Saturday Writers Workshop (2004), which met at Columbus State Community College. Here are some representative verses from this effort:

Our modern world is sometimes called the “Information Age,”
And change can come more quickly than the turning of a page.
In such a world, one must be a seeker and a learner.
So don’t ever put pursuing truth on the backburner.
To help you search for knowledge, I’ve created this little rhyme.
I hope you’ll find it useful; it won’t take up too much time.
It’s called the “ology” poem, and here’s the reason why —
Because so many branches of study end in o-l-o-g-y.
You don’t need to be a wizard or a master of technologies
To understand this introduction to many of our “ologies.”

If you’d like to be acquainted with every kind of fish,
Then ichthyology is the subject that will fulfill your wish.

You may think that ornithology is really for the birds,
But the study of our feathered friends brings joy beyond all words.

Herpetology just might give you a quiver and a shiver,
As you start to learn about reptiles and other things that slither.

If you’d like to try speleology, then you’d best be rather brave,
Since you’ll find yourself in the darkness of many a bat-filled cave.

If you have a burning desire for a subject that’s hot and fun,
Then take a chance on heliology — the study of our sun.

The pursuit of pedology will require you to toil,
As you put your hands into the ground and analyze the soil.

Entomology will introduce you to many a creepy crawly,
But insect life should never be seen as merely a passing folly.

The subject of mycology is inclined to be somewhat icky
‘Cause putting your hands on fungi makes them damp and sticky.

If your interest goes to mountains that reach up to the sky,
Then try your hand at orology and let your spirit fly.

For a minute consider horology or whenever a clock starts to chime.
It’s the study of different ways to measure the passage of time.

This is less than half the verses. The poem ends with this line:

But please understand no harm was meant by this poem on “ologies.”
So I hope you’ll accept, without regret, my sincerest apologies.

And what’s said here is true of all my poems. I mean no harm by them, and if they can bring a few moments of fun and laughter to someone, so much the better.