Childhood’s end
My friends all came and said goodbye
To College off we go.
Hugs and kisses all around
From everyone I know.
Tonight I saw my family-
(Enjoyed my last good meal) .
Tomorrow -cafeteria
With meal plans I must deal.
I spend my last night in my room
(Allow myself a tear)
How will my pandas get along
And thrive without me near.
My books, my things, my DVD’s
so much to leave behind.
But pack mule Daddy must insist
I travel light this time
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poem by John F. McCullagh
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Empty Nest
Our house this night is full of life,
both kids up in their rooms.
We're safe and warm from the harrowing storm
with its lightening streaks and booms.
Yet soon I know, both have to go,
to school, to work, to life.
Then this will be an empty nest
with just me and my wife.
How do birds feel, when, freshly fledged,
their young depart forever.
Do they sing more somberly
when the chicks are not together?
We're creatures of habit, like those birds
I see when we're in the park.
I'll catch myself gazing up the stairs
when both their rooms are dark.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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The Wood Handled Shovel
I take its smooth wood in my hands
to turn the earth as spring returns.
I make straight furrows in my garden
Like those before me worked the land.
This was Dad's shovel years ago
And in my father's callused hands
it coaxed our plot to yield us fruit
as good as any farmer's stand.
Outside of faded photographs
So few of father's things remain
His house torn down, his stuff dispersed.
his kingdom shrunken to a grave.
Of all the things that I possess
this little shovel made of wood
is my link to Him I loved
and to a time when life was good.
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poem by John F. McCullagh
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There's a Pill for That
The learned Dons of Oxford
Have invented and refined
An efficacious compound;
Love Potion number nine.
A heady mix of pheromones
and vitamins and such.
Just give it to your blasé mate
And she'll hunger for your touch.
Oxytocin warms her heart
and bonds her to your side.
Testosterone's included
So she's randy as a bride.
A simple pill upon her tongue
And passion is restored.
A boon for long time couples
Rather lacking in Amor.
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poem by John F. McCullagh
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Fall to Earth
The stubborn little Maple leaf
held on when all its fellows fled.
They carpeting the ground beneath
a vast lushscape of gold and red.
Leaf held on through wind and rain,
the last survivor of its race.
Leaf held on past Turkey day
maintaining there its pride of place.
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poem by John F. McCullagh
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A Member Of The Corps
He was small for a Marine,
The dying boy there in the bed.
Three times he'd fought off cancer
but now, inside his head,
a serious infection
would claim his life instead.
Cody Green was only twelve.
All his life he'd loved the Corps.
They made him a navigator,
The insignia he wore.
An honorary soldier
A marine in time of war.
The crises was upon him.
He would not win this fight
A fellow member of the Corps
Stood honor guard all night
There would be a flag draped coffin
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poem by John F. McCullagh
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Sophia
I never have met you, Sophia,
but we talk everyday on the phone.
Your voice has the sweetness of honey
tasted fresh come from the comb.
With cadence and timbre seductive
The sirens' call comes from your lips.
It has the effect on male members
as the sway of a pretty girls' hips.
A beautiful Greek from the Islands
skin kissed by the sun, I suppose.
Or maybe you're fat and your fifty
and wearing a Mu Mu- who knows?
I prefer to surmise you're a beauty.
with velvet smooth skin and brown eyes.
A girl with a voice of an angel
like Michaelangelo would devise.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Last Night of the American Republic
Somewhere a woman’s keening’
Crying piteously,
It’s coming from the harbor.
Her name is Liberty.
When charity is extorted
No charity will be found.
When government controls us all
We have no common ground
America is a failing state
towards communism drifting.
Several masters, many slaves
and no one in the middle.
We’re sorry Ben, we couldn’t keep
the Republic that you gave us.
With backroom steals and crony deals
The democrats enslaved us.
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poem by John F. McCullagh
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The Challenger Seven
I remember when they waved goodbye,
and left the earth behind
A roar, then an explosion
Indelible in my mind.
That crew was a mosaic
Of America that year;
White, Black Female, Asian
All represented here.
There was a teacher on the flight
Her school kids looking on
How hard then to explain to them
That Mrs. McAuliffe’s gone.
.Like Drake upon the Ocean
of an earlier place and time.
They died while on a mission
to expand the human mind.
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poem by John F. McCullagh
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Time and Love
Of Time and Love- those gifts you gave-
Only memories may I save.
Although I have a goodly store
Don’t call me greedy for wanting more.
Those other gifts you made for me-
A home and loving family-
I hold them close about me now
that my love has out lived our vow.
With you, dear love, I saw the world
Not half bad for a Bronx bred girl
Yet I would yield the world and more
If Time, that thief, gave us encore..
Time will heal my wounds, I trust-
if only when I too am dust.
With tear dimmed eyes I bid farewell
to you who loved me long and well.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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