Poems from Richard

He is a good friend, as kooky as can be
Sometimes he makes me want to throttle him
And yet I giggle helplessly instead
He's got a talent with words, effortless poetry pours forth from him
So to get little sweet pieces dedicated to me,
Gets this female thrilled, happy and downright lucky to have met a guy like him.

Thank you for being a friend,
someone who cried when I almost died.
Waiting to make a turn, watching another approach
he swerved at the last instant, missing the backside.

I’m a better person because of you who are.
Open and understanding, I am more caring,
appreciating your goodness, even though we are afar.
We are different however our friendship isn’t bizarre.

My email was thoughtless, over the top.
A stupid fool writing those words,
hurting the one who showed her emotions
accepting my apologies, we go onwards.

Thank you for being a friend, to me you are a Godsend
Through good and bad times our emails should never end.
Your insight, visions, rants and raves on them, I depend.
Thank you for being a friend, to me you are a Godsend.

Off I go to O Canada!
Banff and Lake Louise I’ll see
Four days and nights I’ll stay,
camping isn’t free, pay the fee.

From around the World they come,
taking in the sights and sounds.
Brown, black and yellow,
all colors enjoy God’s playground.

Crystal clear rivers and lakes
fed by mountain glaciers and streams
Bear, moose, wolves graze on nature
surprising them, one might scream.

Bring me a gift, she did say.
What do I bring back?
Might she like a hat or perhaps a cat
I hope not a yak.

How funny would I look,
a yak in the back of my car?
Head and hoofs sticking out,
tail flapping, I’d not get far.

Mr. Ranger would not be happy,
with me and your yak in the back.
In jail I’d be, a situation calling for tact
Face to face with your yak.

Come get me, me and your yak.
I don’t want no stinkin’ yak
Silly boy, I want a Kit-Kat
Yak? You keep him, Mac.

Honest to God it’s true
driving under a sky so blue
crossing the border, heading north
coming upon a town called Yahk.

Stopping at the shop, The Smoke Shack
inquiring of the owner, Mac.
Do you have the bovine, Yak
cause my girl, she wants me to bring back

There is no Yak in Yahk,
Mac said, upon a stool he sat.
They perished long ago in the mountain cracks
I heard some may be in Hackinsack.

Hackinsack? I’m in Canada mate.
Traveling there, no doubt I’d be late
or my date, sadness would I create.
No Yak for my girl, I stopped and ate.

Caps, hats, cats a plenty
Mugs enough for a coffee klatch.
Neither did she want them
A gift for her, there wasn’t a match.

Hockey sticks nor team sweaters
A puck or a pair of skates.
Her name is Kiya not Kate
Soccer is her game, I’m outta luck.

No Yak to be brought back
instead I offer moose and ducks.
They’re common in Canada, do not pluck,
I rescued them from the muddy muck.

Hurry, please pick up the ducks and moose
Do it soon cause they’re on the loose,
eating me out of house and home,
I’m low on money, I need a loan!


                              - richardd