The cattle barons rode into town
They were dressed in blah, black and brown
Faces stoic and plain
Bulls of Iowa fame
They marched to the square to confront the clown
The clown was frightened of these big six
There was not a happy one in the mix
Hamburger? No way!
We are here to stay
Clown, owner of the diner, was in a fix
the spider rode the horse
the horse he rode as a rider
the cow had wondered how
the sheep was still asleep
the worm then rode the horse
the horse he rode on his turn
the goat had not seen owt
the pig lined up for it
the farm that day felt different
a different farming day
the horse soon looking full
then towards him came the bull
She rode a horse named Romance through the field that day
Squirrel asked chipmunk, “Are they yet far away?”
Chipmunk did not know, so he put his ear to the ground.
They’ll be here in a few hours, he said next to ant mound.
Romance was swift, joyful, a wonderful ride for Lulu.
She thought she might find a beau before day was through.
Potential suitor was intimidated by the well-toned steed.
“I guess she has everything she will ever need.”
So that day was not lucky, or the next few years either.
As for squirrel and chipmunk, they traveled to Peither.
Potential suitor married her cousin, a woman named Kay.
Who had no handsome steed, but a lovely kind way.
I rode my bike west until I hit the ocean blue.
No you did not! Argued an old soft shoe.
I did, I replied, turning him into glue.
He had called me a liar, so wouldn’t you?
Disturbed over what she had planned
for tomorrow. Often times she refused to
me as included with her plans.
What sweet sonnets sing ye
the sound of togetherness
tangled with romance
an evening of love
a night to dance
Yes you my darling might obe
take part
in the clearest exception
where two promise never
to part
Love in the possibility of loving
where is tomorrow
that we shall love
the night away
each promise
each promise
Poem who shall write me
that you seem so inspired
promise who shall write me
Promise who shall write me
in titled to perfection
with each and every word
Poem who shall write me
Poem who shall write me.
then are they evil that they reherst
poem who shall write me
Sample the sweet sounds of
moring the feast upon the fruit
Poem who shall write me
Poem who shall write me
Then have we tonight
might the day was strange with
with sungsters
many words sung
some evasive of love
who shall sing the need
of our togetherness
nature sings in
the night might her
song be as sweet
Crepes for dessert
Last night, I rode upon a sea of dreams,
a whale and grandpa rode them with me.
I felt water hit me as I sailed in my bed;
it was only the whale nodding his head.
He splashed all around those waters of blue,
while rays of moonlight cast silvery hues.
The fish, how they danced in and out of the waves;
a Salmon leapt by me, a Tuna, a Blue Hake.
My bed, it sailed better than any old boat;
when the dream began I was trapped in a moat!
As it turned into ocean with waters blue-green,
I realized the whale, it was a Baleen.
The whale, he told me that he was endangered,
why should he confide in me, a stranger?
My Grandpa told me the very next day,
when I grew up, the whales I could help save.
Their sadness sounds from distant hills,
Drums speaking strength, valor not lost
Calling warriors to give might and will
Victories now but at what cost.
Now drums guide dancers' whirling feet
Their sadness sounds from distant hills
Warriors' hearts feel a quiet defeat
Memories of greatness~silenced, still.
Lilting birds' calls, flute answers trills
Music caught in enchantment's lures
Their sadness sounds from distant hills
Voices of flute, lonesome and pure.
Over vast land they hunted game
Days now lost of conquests and skills
Spirits sigh for those times untamed
Their sadness sounds from distant hills.
Here's the news with anchor, Horseju Rode Inon
Man claims to have been visited by a scary apparition
With weird scary hair
All straggly down to there
It touched his dangly bits without permission
I rode my tortoise to the fair
To other pets he can’t compare
I asked my mama what to wear.
She said she frankly did not care.
We thought people might stop and stare.
Saw lady in her underwear.
They did which is not ever rare.
Passed by a mare sitting on a chair.
Cute pink hair with a lion’s rare.
I thought her hair might be a dare.
We rode right to the village square.
It sure took long to get me there.
Tribute to Columbia’s Seven
They rode the stars to
See our earth on horses made
By man… they were awe
Struck…but something went
Wrong…their lost is great…tears flowed
Free…their jobs were done.
Now, instead of space
Walking they all do walk with
God’s one beloved son.
W.C.Hull © 2020-21-4-H1353-
2463-I50-K50-39-L56-12
Though most Americans praise it
Donald Trump has vowed to raze it
Why leave it to fate
When we can just mate
And let Republicans raise it?
I rode shotgun
with someone
who look just like me
Had the same skin color
as far as I
could steering wheel see
I rode shotgun
with a racist someone,
who hatefully
talked the same way as me
Had the same gnarled speech,
same gnarly hands,
same ugly voice,
same cursive feet
like the carpal in the passenger seat
I rode darkie mind shotgun
with a ghost face someone
who look unholy, just like me
Had the same 20/20 side-by-sidearm vision,
same 20/20 gauge belief
As near as I
could peer passenger see
I once rode shotgun
with a rearview mirror friend,
now a gas pump-action enemy
It’s hard to double barrel conceive,
I went from zero-to-sixty in a heartbeat
Change of attitude direction
came baptismal trigger swiftly
I was passenger told ... and I prayer hope,
distant objects are closer
than they appear to be
She rode on the back of a cyclone’s tail.
We did not put it together until years later.
I am sure she was standing
Probably did not fall once, knowing her.
She left on the back of Hailey’s Comet,
The only one who saw it, as it was completely unscheduled.
...After twenty minutes of this
Pat turned, and he made for land,
steering Champy to a boat-launch
where countless onlookers did stand.
People all got out of the way
when the beast swam up on the ramp,
Pat pulled out the hook, patted the beast,
and said his good-byes to ol’ Champ.
The beast just lay their exhausted,
countless phone cameras quickly flashed,
Then with a lurch the beast swam off,
it ended as quickly as that.
The footage all went up online,
finally, the world would have proof!
but they called it a hoax, CGI,
a stunt pulled on by some bored youths.
Twenty million views on the net,
and they won’t accept what they see,
Pat doesn’t care, he had his fun,
but the accusations annoy me!
I see the doubt in your eyes now,
I already know what you think,
but I tell you, my friend rode Champ—
and I have not had too much to drink!
Jesse rode with Quantrill as did his brother Frank
They were soldiers of the southland before they robbed a bank
Quantrill was a hero to the southern rebels when
He sort of lost control of his senses and his men
His troop was made of hotheads who completely ran amuck
And anyone who crossed them were simply out of luck
They terrorized the boundaries collecting their supplies
Unmindful of the damage, death and neighbor cries
Were they ever here in St. Joe, the rumors say they were
But that’s not been documented and old memories were a blur
There was a barn just south of Bartlett we heard about when young
That really peaked imaginations – kept old Quantrill on our tongue
Did Frank and Jesse go there, did they hide what they had taken
To supply our rebel bushwhackers or were we all mistaken
You know it really doesn’t matter if it was or if it wasn’t
It’s in the mind of dreamers and that my friend just does it
Related Poems