Poet Brothers.

One of the many things that Daniel and I share is a love for poetry, especially writing it. I’d like to share some of our poems with you. So here are some of his poems and some of my old ones. Some of the serious ones explore similar themes, actually. But our goofy ones are wildly different, because we both just let our imaginations run wild, and they ran in different directions. But enough prose. Here’s some poetry.

Winter
By Daniel

Winter has now come.
Mountains are bleached by the snow.
Cold sleet tears my face
As I walk through the cold town.
I wish that I had gloves on.

Spring
By Timothy

Spring bursts in all its splendor,
Green leaves burst from branches and bright flowers bloom
Blades of grass, soft and tender,
Grow up green, tall and slender.
Spring draws sweet surrender from winter’s cold gloom.

The Elegant Eloquent Dragonfly
By Daniel Metcalf

Once open a dandy time,
In a land of reason – a land of rhyme,
A Dragonfly of shimmering blue
Over a fishpond quickly flew.
He darted here. He darted back.
His wings were a blur of clear lilac.

A thousand rhythms he did sing,
With just the buzz of his shining wing.
His voice was illegible but could be heard.
It was sharp, and clear, and quite absurd.

He darted here. He darted back.
His wings were a blur of clear lilac.
He caught a bug.
He caught a slug.
The elegant eloquent dragonfly

A Hummingbird Sonnet
By Timothy

A hummingbird zips
from flower to flower.
Sweet nectar he sips
his wing-beats to power.

His thin and long beak
And wings that can hover
Help him to seek
That of which he’s a lover.

Nectar is vital.
It’s what he eats most.
With no nectar at all,
he’d surely be toast.

His current flower’s nectar’s gone.
Out pops his head. It’s time he moved on.

When Zombie’s Reign
By Daniel

When zombie tyrants rule the land
It’ll be really bad.
No one will think, “Oh! This is quite grand!”
Because they will be too sad

They’ll gurgle and moan
And eat brains on the throne:
We’ll have to get rid of them somehow.

Brains will be what the zombies want.
TRULY, DON’T GO NEAR THEM!
Seeing you head will be quite a taunt.
REALLY, DON’T GO NEAR THEM!

They’ll gurgle and moan
And eat brains on the throne,
And they really won’t want to leave.

Ants and Aunts
By Timothy

Some little ants’ aunts,
who weren’t wearing pants
Punctured some aunts’ legs’ skin.

The human aunts,
Who were wearing pants,
Screamed like some whistles of tin.

The ants whose aunts
Had been in aunts’ pants
Scrambled up out of their hole.

The kids whose aunts
Had ants’ aunts in their pants
Looked on with expressions quite droll.

The little ants’ aunts
Got shook up in aunts’ pants.
The aunts got shook up when attacked.

A boy whose aunt
Had ants’ aunts in her pants
Yelled, “Dad, your sister just cracked!”

Soon all the aunt ants
Had left the aunts’ pants
Because of the shaking and such.

The human aunts,
with aunt ant free pants,
Said to not sit on anthills much.

This tale’s human morale
Was given by the aunts.
So I’ll just give the ant morale:
Don’t bite legs in pants.

A Pink Painting
By Daniel Metcalf

“Now look at my painting.
What do you think?”

“Well my opinion’s
It’s really too pink

There should be some orange
All done in some swirls

And maybe some purple
For the small little girls

Add in some scarlet
In one huge, round, spot

Truly some yellow
It would add quite a lot

A few stripes of lime green
To add some pizzazz

To bring it together
Add some deep, deep, topaz

Now I do like your painting,
It simply is grand!

Now you’re a real artist.
May I Shake your hand?”

The Donkey
By Timothy

We should not have let out the donkey.
He’s stomping and stamping and kicking about.
In general, things have gone wonky.

He’s toppled the table, he’s trampled our auntie,
So now all our cousins have started to shout,
“We should not have let out the donkey!”

We just wanted him to feel jaunty!
The donkey was sleepy. We needed his clout.
But in general, things have gone wonky,

‘Cause we poured him six gallons of coffee.
Who knew that caffeine would make him act out?
Oh, we should not have let out the donkey!

He’s escaped, now, and braying quite strongly,
He’s galloping down towards the town! The old lout.
In general, things have gone wonky.

The moral is, never give coffee
To asses if you want them hanging about.
Oh, we should not have let out the donkey!
In general, things have gone wonky.

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