Your Poems. Your Stories.

Walking by a candy shop,
The sight of gumdrops made me stop,
And with a penny in my hand,
I entered into Candyland.

The smell of chocolate was distinct,
And then a sight caused me to blink,
As if in answer to my prayers,
I saw a million chocolate bears.

Some were dark and some were light,
And some were very, very white,
Some were standing six feet tall,
And some were very, very small.

Some were wide and some were thin,
Some wore frowns and some wore grins,
Some were round and some were flat,
Some wore shoes and some wore hats.

I was rather mystified,
I could not quite believe my eyes,
But when they all began to dance,
I walked right in and took a chance.

I danced with one and then with two,
Then three with hats and one with shoes,
I was the belle of Candyland,
My life was chocolaty and grand.

But visions faded into night,
When I awoke and saw my plight,
My chocolate vision was a dream,
So I got up and had ice-cream.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

I caught a turtle and a frog,
And then I tried to catch a hog,
But it would fight and make a squeal,
I didn’t know how it would feel.

I thought that it would play with me,
But it just wanted to be free,
To roll around in sloppy mud,
I loved this pig; I called it Bud.

Though it was just a simple hog,
I tried to treat it like a dog,
I wanted it to chase a bone,
But it would rather rub a stone.

So I went out to catch a hen,
And keep it in a little pen,
So I could hold it close to me,
And keep this chicken on my knee.

But all it did was flap around,
(It was a chicken, not a hound),
And it would rather peck in dirt,
I loved this hen; I called it Gert.

So I went out and bought a dog,
Which was much better than a hog,
And softer than a big, white hen,
I love this dog; I call it Ben.

It loves to sit upon my knee,
Where it can feel content and free,
It doesn’t peck or roll in mud,
It’s better than old Gert or Bud.

And we are now the best of friends,
And will be when this story ends,
The hog and chicken were okay,
But Ben and I are here to stay.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

The little fawn
Woke up at dawn
To find, the doe,
His mother gone.
Where can my mother be?
This is not like her
To leave me.
He put a call
To Lady Loon
As well as to
 Old friend mister Coon.
Both arrived that afternoon.
First they searched
The Glen
Where they said a prayer
Ending in Amen.
Next they searched the Glade
Where they met
An old milkmaid,
Who promised to aid.
A curious eagle
From on high
Saw the commotion
And wondered why.
He flew right down
To where they stood
And agreed to search
The neighborhood.
The search went on
With a throng of friends
Looking in every
Nook and bend.
A kindly woodsman
Who lived in the dell
Came upon the doe
To where she fell.
Tangled in brambles
Unable to rise
She pleadingly gazed
Into the man’s eyes.
He gently went to
The animal’s side
To untangle her hoof
That held her tied
The doe rose up
With ease and grace
And
Lovingly nuzzled
The woodsman’s face.
The mother deer bounded off
In search of her fawn
But it didn’t take long
Because the posse of friends
Coming round the bend
Met momma deer
And this happy story
Comes to the end.
Tom Fenning
8/14/2006

                                                            When God created

Land, sea and sky

Something was missing,

So that is why 

He created marriage

                                              To allow man and bride

To create

Their own children

And enjoy them

With pride.

 Lauren and Kevin

Created their first child

Riley Terese

Who’ll need

loving care and devotion

For quite a while.

This beautiful child

Will cement Mom and Dad’s

 Love for each other,

And hopefully

Riley Terese

Will have many

A

Sister or Brother.

Tom Fenning

1/13/2007

For great grandchild #10

He was riding on the very edge of sanity and hope,
He was standing on the precipice and couldn’t seem to cope,
He was fighting with the demons of a life he used to lead,
He was wounded in his soul, and it would bleed.

With emotions at the breaking point and tempers running wild,
Though he said he was the victim, he was more like Satan’s child,
He was angry and so empty and confused at how he felt,
And he knew that very soon his life would melt.

For he couldn’t stand the pressure and he couldn’t stand the heat,
Though he tried to live with reason he just knew that he was beat,
So he struck at those who hurt him and the ones who caused him pain,
And the ones he loved he treated with distain.

And though many tried to help him, he just pushed them all away,
Yet if only he had listened, he would not be here today,
But it’s done and it is over and he lives within this cell,
And it’s here that he will bid his last farewell.

And he’s fighting with the demons of a life he used to lead,
And his wounded soul is bleeding, for he planted wild seed,
And he lies inside this chamber, behind bars that will not bend,
And it’s here his life is coming to an end.

They would call him ‘dead man walking’ as he ate his final meal,
And the judges wouldn’t listen as he gave his last appeal,
Now his trembling heart is pounding as he’s strapped inside this chair,
“I’m the victim and it really isn’t fair.”

For he felt his life was drowning in much ambiguity,
Now his soul will meet the future, which is called Eternity,
Where he’ll fight the many demons of a life he used to lead,
And his wounded soul will suffer, cry and bleed.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul