CHANGE

by LaRue Watts

The seasons come, the seasons go
And nothing stays the same, although
I wish there was a way to hold
On to those bygone days of old.
When doors were never locked at night,
When kids played games without a fight,
When we were all a kinder race
And "Please" and "Thank you" were in place.
When Sullivan on Sunday night
Could make the weekend turn out right.
When Disneyland was still a goal
And Santa never gave you coal.
When every neighbor you knew well
And telephones were not a cell.
I miss those days that now are gone,
When, as a nation, we were one.
But I hold on to faith, my friend.
For onsets, new, around the bend.
So call me crazy.  Call me strange.
Call me when there's been a change.

THAT TIME AGAIN

by LaRue Watts

Christmas is coming and Thanksgiving, too.
But first, Halloween will arrive right on cue.
So let us take pause.
We all know that Claus
With help from his elves
Will stock the store shelves
While people bemoan and complain in dismay,
"Christmas so soon?  It's just Labor day."
Good will toward men?
Too early again?
I'm wishing "Good Tidings," my heart filled with hope
That people will smile and manage to cope
With Autumn arrivals of Christmastime glee.
So, deck your halls early.   Come caroling with me.

WORDS

by LaRue Watts

I've been bamboozled, been persnickety, traveled lickety-split
And now I think of words like these and wonder if they fit
Into our modern language.  Or are they too old school?
Perhaps the Tom of foolery is me, or just a fool?
If I should miss the thingamabob and thingamajig as well
Am I within the, often told, hand-basket bent for hell?
Perhaps I'm far too pixilated
And need to be insatiated.
The scallywag within me knows my britches are too big
Yet I continue looking for each gizmo, poke and pig.
Although this poem is trivial,
It's meant to be convivial.
I love the words of yesteryear that I knew as a child
I still beseech to be besotted, bolloxed and beguiled.