Don't Count Your Chickens 'Fore They Hatch!
I was lookin' for a girl to be my darlin'.
Someone to show what love was all about.
Then you came along,
I thought that we were goin' strong,
I was born, raised and have lived in southern Ontario, Canada all my life. In my teens I developed a keen interest in music, art and writing. I went to art school and eventually became a mildly successful graphic artist. But music, at that time, became my only true love. Mom bought me my first guitar with ten books of green stamps when I was fifteen and I never stopped playing it. I went on to buy many other guitars and performed in several bands, the last being Cherry Coke, which included my wife, Marlene.
Marlene passed away in 2012 after 29 years of marriage. I lost my ability to play guitar due to arthritis, so I turned back to writing. I had been composing short stories, poems and songs since I was thirteen, but mostly for my own amusement and that of friends. My wife’s death, however, made writing a necessity to help fill the void that was left me. When I write, I try to use humor as a basis for most of my poems and songs. It is my feeling, you don’t have to look very far to find sadness in this world, so I would rather try to make people smile or even laugh with what I have to say.
I do not consider myself a poet by any means, but I try to put some aspects of life into funny stories that rhyme. Some pieces are based on reality, and some are fantasy, just plain silly or, in some cases, risqué. If they make you smile or brighten your day, it’s all been worth it.
Most living things are around
Wherever living things are found.
On land or sea, that swim beneath,
Most of them have got their teeth.
Ah Brian, I LOVED IT! My kind of children's poem. Very well done. Blessings, Gary
I'm very happy you liked my story. I try to put a bit of humor in most of my writings. Smiles are important in a world filled with sadness.
I, too, have lost a loved one too soon. I see my sister every day in my memories. It's been almost 30 years since she passed. One more day with her would hardly be enough, but if available, I would take it in a second. The talks we had, the games we played, the laughs we shared would be a welcomed addition to my fading life...if only for one more day. Beverley passed away at 47 years of age. I loved your poem and I'm sure many others will, too. Thank you; I couldn't have said it better.
Thank you. I wish I could've written this for my Mom. She was the savior I didn't fully appreciate. I hope she can forgive me. Mom, I miss you.