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if i had a dime for every time that i tried to write poetry on a piece of paper with lines... i'd have 10 cents.

i thought it'd be fun to throw in a pun... this being my second one

so i came to the shore and before i walked in the door,
dad began his plan to fix the house up for gran
and mom had run downstairs to put her thoughts on a paper, a few minutes later, interrupted, cuz she's the dinner maker.

so my restless soul took a stroll, got a little cold, came back, put some sloppy joe on a roll;
satisfied my stomach
no more sounds coming from it,
i descended the summit.

found mom still sittin, spittin the words she had written
to my reluctant ears, just kiddin! they were happy to hear, happy to be near a wonderful woman-my mother dear.
wonder what's goin on back home with beth and tone
should i phone?
nah,
i'll leave 'em alone.