Beyond the Page

Twixt seventeen and wintergreen,

and where one scarce conceives,

there lies a land I’ve often seen,

where gentle magic weaves;

and having once beheld the scene,

one never fully leaves.

A way to get there can be found

by anyone who looks.

The paths are many and abound

in myriad happy nooks

that frequent readers see all round,

throughout their favorite books.

Copyright ©2019, Paul H. Harder II

This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.

Nursery Rhymz

Hickory dickory dill.

The mouse ran up the hill.

Scared Jill and Jack

came tumbling back.

Hickory dickory dill.

Hickory dickory deep.

The mouse scared Miss Bo Peep.

Forgot her lambs,

both ewes and rams.

Hickory dickory deep.

Hickory dickory doubt.

The mouse ran up the spout.

A spider there,

he fled its lair.

Hickory dickory doubt.

Hey diddle diddle.

The cat dropped the fiddle

to chase the mouse round the room.

The little dog chased the cat and the mouse,

and the farmer’s wife chased with her broom.

Hickory dickory dee.

The mouse ran after me.

I wrote this poem.

Now you know him.

Hickory dickory dee.

Copyright ©2019, Paul H. Harder II

This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.

It's All Happening at the

Paul and Art knew half the score:

It’s also at the grocery store.

Folks come here to buy their bread,

while others come to sell, instead.

I’ve done both, but do you know,

I also come to watch the show!

Lovers stroll while choosing meats.

Young children beg their folks for treats.

Teens admire their first heart throbs,

while working at their first real jobs.

Babies caterwaul and scream,

while frazzled moms pick out ice cream.

After all the selling’s done

and when the patrons all are gone,

grocery stores will settle down.

But still they work to feed the town:

Shelves to stock and floors to sweep,

a grocery store gets little sleep.

Copyright ©2019, Paul H. Harder II

This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.