There once was a writer named Lear
With the first name of Edward...I fear
He was English...I say
He wrote Limericks every day
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I write love poems about sunrises, sunsets…
about the clouds the moon and the sea…
because their beauty and their magnificence constantly inspire me.
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I remember being fascinated by animals when I was a child
enchanted by the things I'd hear and see…
I never understood back then…all the things they were teaching me.
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I know this from experience. I heard it from my father's tongue.
Noting makes a person sound older than saying, "When I was young."
You go through life thinking, I'll never say those words, that's what old people do.
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All my life I’ve heard the groans yes, since I was a little one
Because for as long as I can remember I’ve been enamored with the pun.
For instance the other day Deborah and I were out discussing bees
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There was an anthropological study conducted on the children of an African tribe…
that I shall attempt as best I can…in this poem…to now describe.
A basket of fruit was placed under a tree…the children told to be fast and resolute
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Our house is not the biggest house…to some it may even seem small…
but I'm amazed at the amount of memories housed within its walls.
Our home has seen many seeds of love…planted…nurtured…encourage to bloom…
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Whenever my life seems out of balance…when things are difficult for me…
I remember I am loved…and rediscover life's symmetry.
Whenever the music of my life is out of tune…when I lose the melody…
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In the middle of my walk this morning…as my health I try to maintain…I was greeted from the heavens…with an unexpected rain.
It's funny how it works…as the first raindrops and you collide…you immediately look around…for a safe, dry place to hide.
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She loved visiting her grandma…at Grandma's everything just seemed right…
She especially loved those times she got to spend the night.
Because as she grew she began to find comfort in the wisdom of Grandma's words…
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