Children's Books

I’ve dreamed of writing children’s books,

On Point with subjects new…

But worry my cryptic cynicism,

Could possibly taint a child’s view.

My thoughts are full of friendly tales,

The journeys best friends share…

Yet eyes wide open, we are at risk,

At home, anytime and anywhere.

Our life is for discovering beauty,

Seeing the grandeur on every side…

Sadly, I learned at the age of four,

Bambi’s mother died.

Fate deals cards in an instant,

Randomly drawing one of us…

Sometimes the sober vegetarian,

Is the first hit by a wayward bus.