Three Men Tub

Those three set out to see the world
And to have a great adventure.
So many ports through Ike's mind whirled
Where they might find fun and pleasure.
Ed plots up more practical plans
To fit all he can on budget.
But Samuel thinks of the clans
And how the others will judge it.

They have but that single vessel
That together they all must share.
At the helm, they argue and wrestle
To chose how and where they will fare.
"Let's follow the sparkle," says Ike,
"And go wherever it may lead."
"Ahead," says Ed, "are rocks we'll strike
If no caution we chose to heed."

Samuel scans around for land
And signs of civilzation.
"We could help more to lend a hand
And gain others' admiration.
We will enjoy ourselves onshore
With people to join our pursuit.
Let sparkles and rocks wait some more
And let's enhance our fine repute."

"What fun is that?" Ike does protest,
"We came out here to romp and play!"
"The fun," says Ed, "is in the zest
To do any task our own way.
We can frolic to our content
When we perceive the pleasure track.
Enjoy what is in your present
And the fun will always come back."

"So life's a game we daily play?"
Ike ponders so very lightly.
"We are a team, and so are they,"
He concludes with smile grown brightly.
"Yes, OK," Samuel agrees,
"If that will put us into gear.
Let's get out there now, if you please,
And give them a reason to cheer."

With all their hands on the wheel,
They resume the journey again.
For the moment, they have a deal
On how to guide their common brain.
Each with reasons, 'though not the same;
Ike, for fun in competing fight,
Ed, for strategy in the game,
Samuel, to do what is Right.

The Tattered Flag

Across the street, an old, worn flag,
Her business she still daily serves.
Day and night, her tattered ends yet wag
With less respect than she deserves.

I wonder what is her story
From her start to such condition.
At what posts she flew with glory,
Showing honor in her mission.

Where should a loyal servant go
After serving with her full measure?
What dignity should we bestow
To retire a well-worn treasure?

To Pay The Piper

That old taxman came by today
And asked, was I prepared to pay?
I was inclined to ask him why
I should feel compelled to comply.

I’ve more government than I need
And those at home with mouths to feed.
So, why should I need pay your fee –
What, I ask, is in it for me?

With a sigh, the taxman produced
A tube of which the end he loosed.
I thought it held a flute or pipe,
Or a paper roll of some type.

We’ve a contract, he softly said,
With debts owed, not easily shed.
He tapped the tube on his left palm
And held my eyes with silent calm.

Do you deny the deeds been done
To serve the needs of everyone?
To build your towns and keep them clean,
From near to far and in between?

You have tasked us with many chores –
To help at home and fight your wars.
Build your streets and patrol them too,
And things you alone cannot do.

And now it’s time to pay the bill,
Citizen’s duty to fulfill.
Use your vote to select our task,
But pay those who do what is asked.

Stanford the Chipmunk

Once upon a time, there was a chipmunk who felt that nobody respected him. Perhaps it was true, maybe even justified. But Stanford was sorely miffed by the slights and ridicule he believed his neighbors cast at him.

There are creatures smaller than a chipmunk just as easily ignored, or more easily, in the bustling world of nature. Stanford was as likely to overlook and discount their contribution to life as his neighbors. He understood that many things in life are too unimportant to occupy one's mind; but he simply knew he was not one of those things.

Stanford stood upon his stump
And called for all to heed.
Dancing about, he did jump -
Their attention he did need.

"It has been said," he began,
"By so many gathered here,
'That life requires no plan
To pass from year to year.

'What will come is unasked,
So accept what you receive.
The future's always masked -
Its intent none can perceive.' "

The few who listened shrugged;
Most ignored the small chipmunk.
From their paths, they weren't tugged
By his unwanted show of spunk.

"But it isn't true," he cried,
"Your planned goals can be reached.
It's worthy to be tried -
So think ahead," he beseeched.

None replied to what he said,
Even if they had heard.
If his thoughts crossed their head,
To self, credit they transferred.

What good to know what’s right,
He grumbled to himself.
I live beneath their sight
On life’s neglected shelf.

Did I chose to be so low
Upon my social tree?
Could into a lion I grow
With opportunity?

Then they would notice me
And hang on every word.
My roar would say what’s to be --
To me, all choices deferred.

He saw himself as lion posed
To rule with deft command.
He swept aside all opposed
To do as he had planned.

The world he saw was transformed
To fit neatly in his mold.
To their tasks others swarmed,
Doing as he had told.

Stanford walked with eyes closed
To hold within his dream.
So content, now he dozed
To realize his fine scheme.

The world changed not a bit --
All continued as it was --
Dreamer alone with his wit,
Hearing his own applause.