John Bliven Morin Poems

“The foxes are afield tonight,
I feel it in my bones! ”
“Come back to bed, ” his goodwife said
To elder Farmer Jones.
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It’s a long, long way to Christmas,
But I hear those Christmas bells;
There’s no bird roasting in the oven,
Yet I smell those cooking smells.
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My friend Richard visited me today
In a dream, as the dead are wont to do;
It was a great comfort to see him again,
For I’ve missed his letters since his death
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When lonliness overcomes me
And wearyness descends,
I ask, “How long the struggle,
Before this life will end? ”
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If there are fireflies,
There must be fairies,
And if there are fairies,
There must be a forever.
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Purty ribbons,
Colored ribbons,
Lots of ribbons,
In yore hair;
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I heered about this feller tother day
who had a long maridge, an who
Never even had a argeemint in 40 years
With his lovin wife, Miz Billie Sue
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Do you ever pick yore nose
Whilst yore ironin’ the clothes?
Do the boogers hit the iron?
Do they fall betwixt yore toes?
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I met a feller today who
Talked like some of them
Old movie bad guys
Like Jams Mason.
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You see that line of pecan trees
A-standing in a row?
My great-grandpaw planted them
A hundred years ago.
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