02 Thursday Apr 2020
Posted in Creative writing, Fiction, Lyrics for a song, Observations, Poems, Writings
Tags
Blue Sky, Colors, Day's End, Gray Clouds, Poems, Spring, Sunset, Walk Gently
‘Neath the blue of the sky and the gray of the clouds,
In the yellow of the bright setting sun,
Walked gently in the green of the lush Spring grass,
Walked and read the telltale of day’s done.
by John Patrick Seekamp c 2020
10 Thursday Aug 2017
Posted in Creative writing, Family Stories, Fiction, Poems, Writings
13 Sunday Sep 2015
Orange coated dark clouds
all hovering in blue,
Hovering ‘bove fields
as the coming mist grew,
Mist upon onions once prevalent
but now few,
Onions and mist
in the set of sun’s due,
Growing under dark clouds
in the orange and the blue.
by John Patrick Seekamp (August 11th, 2015)
13 Sunday Sep 2015
Posted in Fiction, Humor, song parody, Writings
Tags
In the quiet sleepy village,
Where the Romans came to pillage,
All the young men once so brave they ran away,
Only old folks mean and grumpy,
And young maidens fat and lumpy,
Made their minds up, “In this village we shall stay,
Yes right here in this village we shall stay!”
At first the Romans they were contented,
Yes their resolve it was unrelented,
As they sacked and divvied up all that they did find,
But then soon they were surrounded,
By old folks and maidens rounded,
A-G-G-G-H!….and so they too,
They left that village far behind,
Yes they also left that village far behind!
Now that made both the old folk and the maiden,
Feel so disappointed and unladen,
For they almost had men fearless and built strong,
Then soon the ruthless Huns and Vandals,
And the mighty Mongols in their sandals,
They also fled that place without a song,
Yes they too fled that place without a song!
You see, in that noiseless town of slumber,
Where the Romans came to plunder,
Not even one invading marauder stood a hoot,
So go away Julius Caesar,
Don’t come a callin’ Genghis either,
Just stay home…. forget adventure and all that loot,
Or once again you’ll find your sorry selves hot to scoot,
Yes all over you’ll find your sorry selves hot to scoot!
by John Patrick Seekamp (January 15th, 2015)
06 Thursday Mar 2014
Tags
There were cats in the kitchen of the spinsters Worrell,
There were frogs in the bucket of Deacon Sudbury’s well,
There by the noon bell in the sun at its high,
Was a purring, and a croaking, and the nightingale’s cry,
Where the thorn plums, and the thistle downs, and the touch-me-nots grew,
There in the thicket did the nightingale spew.
by John Patrick Seekamp, 2014
16 Sunday Feb 2014
Posted in Writings
Tags
I wish I’d been, I wish I were, In other times to be,
What you yourself once said you were,
When you yourself were he,
When only matters mattered most,
And most peculiarly,
When all the world was fast asleep, across the lands, and oceans deep, and in the clouds where angels weep,
But alas we are but thee,
And now but now we see!
by John Patrick Seekamp, 2014
I wrote this on Saturday night while trying to think of something to post. My first post!
bookandtale 