'Nuf Said...

My brother, Michael, three years older and wiser,knows me well enough to see that I have a very quirky side to my personality.
There are times when I become philosophical.
My friends rely on my good judgment and advice.
There are other occasions when I become 'off the wall',
meaning, my proclivity for crazy poetry kicks in.
It's pretty freaky how easily I can write the stuff..
Totally “swamp” poetry as Michael calls it.
My nickname is “Swampette.”

Dear Michael thinks I should wax poetic, let my hair down a bit.
If you're ready, here goes,with apologies to bro:


Spike and Mike

There once was a feller named Michael
Who hopped on his three-wheeled bicycle
He took off like a bat
Spun out and went splat
On ol' lady Greevy's fat cat.

Spike stretched and reeled
Burped loud and clear
The poisoned dinner flew out
Twenty feet to the rear.

Spike stared up at Michael with a toothless grin
Much like Ol' lady Greevy after her gin
Eyeing the bike with his head in a spin
Spike took off like a bat with Mike's bike in tow
Spun out and went splat on ol' lady Greevy's fat toe.

Cat's have nine lives don'tcha know
But Spike who was dumb
Lost count ages ago
And for Spike, at last
This was the end of the show.


Swampette