Limerick Friday

There once was a man of Doubloon,
Who ate his stew not with a spoon.
He'ld splatter and slobber
And cause quite a bother!
The man from Doubloon was a loon.

Follower... Not a Fan

How much do I die to myself, submitting to follow your will-

Deny all things of this world, and travel to Calvary Hill?

My cross I must carry,

Though sometimes contrary,

I fight and complain,

That its all done in vain-

Just not willing to give up my life.

God I must follow,

The Bible my motto,

 I must put You first,

In Your grace be immersed,

If to ever escape from my strife.

My Nose

My nose know not to be nosy-
To let good smells pass by.
But every once in a while,
I'll find my face in a pie.

Excuses

I'd like to write a poem
But haven't got a title.
So I'll go along my day
And leave this poem sit idle.

I'd like to write a poem
But haven't got the time.
Whats even more, I find it hard
To write in lines of rhyme.

I'd like to write a poem
But haven't got the wit.
So I'll go do something else
And leave this poem to sit.

Truth's Passing

Sadly Truth has died,
He's been taken to the grave.
Buried six feet underground
Beyond the point to save.

Just a few remember,
Bring flowers to the dead.
Scarcely a word or quote is heard,
Of things he may have said.

If only we had heeded,
To warnings of his health.
Perhaps we could have saved him,
And saved our greatest wealth.