HOME page>                  NEW STUFF page> 
          WRITING CONTENT page>       GUEST ARTISTS page>Home_1.htmlNew_Stuff.htmlEssays.htmlGuest_Artists.htmlshapeimage_1_link_0shapeimage_1_link_1shapeimage_1_link_2shapeimage_1_link_3

Stick Horse
by Wayne Edwards

I have a little stick horse
That I like to ride about.
It is the world’s best stick horse,
I have very little doubt.
I ride it in the kitchen
And in every other room.
But I must stop riding now
Because Mother needs her broom!
Cactus Horse
by Wayne Edwards

My brother made a hobby horse
Entirely out of cactus.
I think that if he learns to ride
It’ll take a lot of practice.
One thing’s for sure, he won’t fall off
If Cactus Horse puts up a fight.
‘Cause once you’re on a cactus horse
You’re stuck there awfully tight.
Quarter Horse
by Wayne Edwards

She told me that to ride a horse
Was her favorite thing to do,
So wonder why she got so mad
I really do wish that I knew.
I let her have the bestest horse
And that was just for starters.
She could have ridden all of them
‘Cause I had lots of quarters.
Persistance Pays
by Wayne Edwards

Seven times he had proposed,
Seven times she’d turned him down,
Saying she would never marry
Someone that was such a clown.
Being a persistent clown,
He mailed her presents every day
Hoping that his many gifts
Would cause her hardened heart to sway.
His ploy was somewhat successful,
As she has agreed to marry;
The man that brought her all those gifts,
Who was of course her mailman, Harry.
Mail Order Woman
by Wayne Edwards

The catalogue came last week
And there on page seventeen
Was the prettiest little woman
That Buford had ever seen.
At forty seven ninety nine
The woman really did look nice
And with the shipping throwed in free
You really couldn’t beat the price.
He sent his order right away.
And told Hank, his friend, about it.
Now Hank, a high school graduate,
Was very quick to doubt it.
“With Hank’s fancy education”,
Buford thought, “That’s how much he knows.
Wait ‘till he sees what came today.
The mailman brought me all her clothes!”
Goodbye Daddy
by Wayne Edwards

Tom said his prayers with Dad each night,
He was a very thoughtful lad;
He always prayed, “God bless my Mom.”
And then he prayed, “God bless my Dad.”
The next one on his prayer list;
“God, don’t forget to bless Grandma.”
Tonight his ending surprised Dad
When he just said, “Goodbye, Grandpa.”
They got the word about Grandpa,
On his way home from Kelly’s Bar,
He tried to cross a busy street
And got run over by a car.
That night when Tommy said his prayers,
Of course he couldn’t bless Grandpa
But he blessed both his mom and dad
And ended with, “Goodbye, Grandma.”
Now Tommy’s Dad thought this was strange.
And just a wee bit frightening.
Then they got word, Grandma was dead.
She had been struck by lightning!
That night when Tommy said his prayers,
He seemed to be a little sad;
But his poor dad got really scared.
When Tom’s prayers ended, “Goodbye, Dad.”
Next day Tom’s dad stayed at his desk
Hunkered down in painful fright.
His eyes glued to the office clock
Until the time was past midnight.
When at last he got home safely,
And got screamed at for being late.
He tried to tell about his day
And how he had defeated fate.
His wife just looked at him and said,
“You think that your day was so hard,
After you left home this morning
The mailman dropped dead in our yard!”
Fishermen’s Lies
by Wayne Edwards

The mailman said he caught a catfish
That weighed a hundred and eighty pounds.
He bragged about his monster catfish
To everyone as he made his rounds.
Old Jake told him he caught a catfish
That was at least twenty times that big.
It had swallowed a fisherman’s boat,
His lantern and all his fishing rig.
Then he said that the fisherman’s stuff
Hadn’t been damaged one little bit.
In fact when he cut open the fish
The kerosene lantern was still lit.
The mailman said,”We’re not all that dumb.
You’re trying to hand us one big lie.
There’s no way that lantern would stay lit.
Next you’ll be telling that pigs can fly!”
Old Jake said, “Well, a fisherman’s lies
Is what this argument’s all about,
But you knock eighty pounds off your fish
And maybe I’ll blow my lantern out!”
E-Mail from Hell
by Wayne Edwards

They were going to meet in Florida
Where they’d spent their honeymoon.
He had planned to get there first,
And she would come next day at noon.
When he arrived at the hotel
He found some changes had been made.
A computer furnished for each guest
Included in the price he’d paid.
He’d send a note to tell his wife.
“Dear wife, They have computers here
To send e-mail to the ones you love,
It makes me feel like you’re quite near.”
“I’ve just arrived and got checked in
And found out they’ve arranged for you.
They plan to greet you here tomorrow
There’s nothing more that you can do.”
“P.S. Be sure you’re dressed in something cool
Because the climate here is queer.
It’s warmer then I had expected.
In fact it’s really hot down here!”
The address he typed had one mistake
And it would ruin a woman’s day.
It was sent to a brand new widow
Who read it and fainted dead away!
by Wayne Edwards

My supermarket says people
Will be encouraged to buy more,
If there is a matching odor
For all the things sold in their store.
Fresh roasting ears are quick to sell
When customers smell buttered corn,
And vegetables are misted with
The smell of rain on a spring morn.
When walking by the fresh farm eggs
All your senses will awaken,
And your mouth will start to water
To the smell of eggs and bacon.
You’d think shopping would be pleasant
With all those odors in the air,
But I am sure you’ll understand
I don’t buy toilet paper there!  
A Cup of Water
by Wayne Edwards

Clematus was a backwoods’ boy,
He was back woodsy as they get.
I watched his youthful eyes grow wide
When first he saw a TV set.
He was running through the hotel
Where each new wonder brought him glee.
Then he brought a cup of water
And, happily, handed it to me.
I drank it to make him happy
Although its taste was far from fair.
He asked if he could bring some more
For all the others standing there.
But he came back with empty hands,
Without the cups he was to bring.
“I can’t get any more,” he said,
“A man is sitting on the spring!”
Gourd Dipper
by Wayne Edwards

She grinned as she stood watching me, 
A wrinkled crooked toothless grin. 
Tobacco juice in rivulets 
Ran through the whiskers on her chin.
She’d filled the old gourd dipper full, 
Good spring water, fresh, clear and cold. 
To drink from her offered dipper – 
Was I foolish to be so bold?
She looked at me with rheumy eyes. 
Muff’ling her constant hacking cough 
Had badly stained the once white rag, 
She used to wipe the gourd rim off.
My thirst was great but could I drink 
From any place those lips had been? 
Just the thought had turned my stomach 
But to refuse would seem a sin.
That’s when I noticed that the gourd 
Had a handle that was hollow, 
So I sucked the water through it. 
As I was about to swallow,
She exclaimed, “Isn’t that too strange? 
Something I thought I’d never see. 
Someone else drinks through the handle 
Just the very same way as me!”
by Wayne Edwards
Here we go again, I just can’t leave those golfers alone. Once again, I got the idea in our Sunday School class. Someone passed around a joke about a pastor who couldn’t tell anyone about his hole-in-one because he was playing hooky from his church at the time.
Only another golfer can imagine his Frustration at not being able to mention his much superior hole-in-one when listening to his golfing buddies brag about theirs. Do you think God ever let him make another one?

He got up early Sunday, so that he could pray.
He knelt down by the window, it was such a pretty day.
The game he’d planned for Saturday was canceled by the rain.
The same had happened last weekend, the weather was a pain.
He knew that it was Sunday, with church he couldn’t miss,
But surely it was God, who made a day like this.
As he began to pray, he could hear the golf greens call.
He wished he’d never seen a golf club or a ball.
Once more he tried to pray; he could hear the church bells ring.
But then he thought of ways he could improve his swing.
If he missed Sunday service, would it be such a crime?
After all his associate pastor should preach from time to time.
And then he thought, “I’ll lay a fleece, like Gideon did that day,
Then I can see for sure if God wants me to play.
If I can get a tee time, as late a time as this,
Then I know that he’ll forgive me for the service that I miss.”
“I’ll call for reservations on a course that’s far from here.
No one will recognize me, like they would if I played near.”
So he grabbed his little cell phone right then and made a call,
But they were fully booked, they had no room at all.
He thought, “Now God, play fair, you can’t do this to me,
Just let me try again, the best two out of three.”
The next course that he called, he almost dropped his phone,
They said they had one opening and would he be alone?
He had to call his office and say that he was sick,
So what about his conscience? Well he’d give it a kick.
He made the fateful phone call, with a voice that he made hoarse,
Then he loaded up his clubs and started for the course.
As he drove the crowded roads, he could hear an inner voice,
But he would just ignore it, for he had made his choice.
The course was such a beauty, he’d not played there before.
Not a soul would know him, who could ask for something more?
So he set his ball to tee and he took a practice swing.
His guardian angel ducked or he’d have lost a wing.
Well the angel was unhappy, and he went to see his boss.
“We must teach him a lesson but, Dear God, I’m at a loss.”
Then God said, “Don’t you worry, I know just what to do,
So watch just how I handle it, you’ll learn a thing or two.”
The preacher hit the ball and knocked it so high up,
It went four hundred yards and fell right in the cup.
The angel said to God, “Just look what you have done,
How can this be punishment? He got a hole in one!”
But God said, “Don t you see? That’s any golfer’s hell,
This hole in one’s his first, now just who can he tell?”
by Wayne Edwards

I was training my dog
While in town yesterday;
I was trying to teach him
The meaning of stay.
I parked at a store
In my new SUV;
Then my dog in training
Tried to go in with me.
I wouldn’t be long
And the weather was cool,
But I knew my dog thought
I was just being cruel.
I turned and I pointed
As I walked towards the store,
And repeatedly said, “STAY,”
As I’d taught him before.
You couldn’t see Fido;
All my windows were dark.
A passer-by commented 
“I just put mine in PARK?”
On to Next Page>


The Poetry of Wayne Edwards