A Poem for Wee Rascals

 I found this poem written with chalk on the concrete path leading up to someone's house. It was a sunny winter day, where it seemed that Persephone had broken out of Hades three months early and was dancing across the light blue cloud-scudded sky. As such, I did not mind walking down this path to read the poem. Since it was written with chalk, I figured somebody ought to copy it down before the  elements blissfully washed away any proof of it ever having been there at all. 

A Poem for Wee Rascals

No need to stab at me with your swords;

Keep them within the velvet sheath of thy paw;

One look from you, no words;

and my heart is pierced with gentleness and awe. 

Aztec Gold

Here is a poem I found scrawled hastily on some line paper that was stained with a great deal of sweat and smudged with dirt.

Aztec Gold

In the haunted Aztec Jungles - there is a lake of Gold!
Wrapped in skeletal embrace, they are old, old old!

The Spaniards who hug those treasures - they are cold, cold, cold!
They strode as gods on bloody temples, and they coveted the gold!

Conquerors, Adventurers, proud men; bold!
Heavy were their wages, and down they pulled!

Beware the call of Glory - know the price it holds:
We have sung their story, now let them keep their gold!