Biography of Robert Sheridan
Writer, published author, humorist, poet...
Robert Sheridan's Works:
Bits and Pieces to Ponder
Robert Sheridan Poems
Dark Becomes Dawn
Dark as pitch - Dawn spreads light Dark as dead - Dawn expires graves Dark withers - Dawn freshness wears Dark un-paths - Dawn re-strides.
ǣ Ceallian Tð Ælmesse
(a call to alms) fðlmes ðf þæt giernans (hands of the beggars)
The Boston Tea Party
The moment we wake up Before we put on our war-paint make up We say a little anti-British prayer for you While combing our Indian wigs now,
A White Rose
Reverence and humility A rose without thorns Purity and brightness; You’re telling someone
But damned close Medical science has predetermined Maybe a flu, maybe an infection Paragon of salutary well-being
A certain noise, a vain of laughter - comes The folly of my wisdom hears their applause Clapping, clapping - the thunder of a mischievous one Spiteful people gain your attention through fear, not through love;
The Luck Of The Irish
A famine, then its aftermath Happened between ’45 & ‘51 Caused initially by a spud blight One potato, two potato, three potato more.
Once a upon a time, there was a Rebellion quite Chinese Took place from November 1899 to September 1901 A.D. The Boxers were considered somewhat anti-foreign – When worn next to sensitive skin caused chaffing & itching.
Loretta Perfectus Walsh
She saw a 1917 recruitment poster for the United States Navy - yeoman meant women; Loretta joined; then she became the first active duty
Hatfield’s & Mccoy’s
1878 – 1891 American lore Bitterly feuding – a metaphor Hatfield’s – West Virginia; the McCoy’s – Old Kentucky region
Sherman’s March To The Sea
In 1864 we took a little trip Along with General Sherman near the mighty Mississippi We took a little hardtack and we took a lotta beans And we caught the Confederacy in Savannah – there were a lot of screams.
Isle Of Skye
Mesolithic hunter-gatherers Occupants rock-sheltered Famine & clearances the latter Depleted populace no census
Pigs Don’t Know Pigs Stink
A strong, offensive smell Offensive to all honesty Disgusting odor – inferior; Amateurish performances
Its rudder runs through the morning grass In its wake, the dew a sea of tranquility; Its early gray aura taps at window panes As to Morse code a waking message;
At first, a slight faint or trace
Then a displaced Civil War image
Reflected in a gold-framed mirror
Her body, not her soul, now nonexistent.
She moved from room to room noiselessly
No cold drafts, no sounds of footsteps
Glided along in her silken white dress
As to her beauty, I couldn’t help but notice