My Sweetness In Life!

Chocolates attract the female persuasion...
Chocolates mark anniversary's occasion!
Sweetness in you runs completely over
flowed, Sweet thing, is how you are known!
Sweet thing, you have matured, to show how
much you've grown! Sweetness in life, are all
your ways...To grow old with you, as we
should so turn nice grays! Sweetness is your
own disposition...Thank God in Heaven, in me
you found inthatuation! Chocolate can be
your one lone weakness...I thank my stars,
of your total sweetness! Sweet, you have been
from the beginning...With a smile like
yours, i'm the one who is winning! A sweet
thing has entered my life...Thank God,
almighty, you've become my wife!

Michael Jeffrey Gale

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poem by Michael Gale
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Icey Holed Fishing!

Five pointed stars of icey snow, Gives
winter lovers a sudden happy glow! Snowballs
fly past heads ever alert, Even large
victim's are felled as well as tiny little
squirts! Of all this comes exclemations of
'Ouch that hurts! ' Snowmen are rolled from
hill to hill, A winter wonderland gives
a thrill and a chill! Ice skating and sleds
litter many the scene, These are colors of
white, but not of blue or green! Fishing is
over for the season, But holes drilled in
ice with poles and bait, is the sportman's
main manly reason! Ice fishing may seem so
cold, But for only the brave and the bold!
Summer's end is not the end, Snow can be
shoveled and moved, and even molded to bend!
11-29-2005'.

Michael Jeffrey Gale

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poem by Michael Gale
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The Woman In The Short-Shorts. (A Very Funny Story!)

There was a woman wearing very short shorts...
The Husband just stared at them.

You'd of thought that She just had performed a can, can? ...
But still He stared as best as can, only because, He was just a Man.

You might say that 'Her risen hem...
Attracted many Male stares, all of them.

Men just love a curvaceous booty...
Their eyes are always performing their, usual eye candied duty.

That Husband was slapped as hit...
By the looks of His right eye, You'd think Him as landed in a Wasp nest, or an Asp's, or a Rattle snake pit.

Black and blue, as well as exhibiting a nasty, large swell...
Was His right eye, as easily, You'd tell.

This Mild Mannered Husband, would no longer stare...
For the benefit of His eyes, He would really and cautiously care

poem by Michael Gale
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God Cries Down Over Head-Only After A Renewed Begin.

God cries when droplets of rain water plummet to Earth.
God exhales and blows his breath downward towards Earth, when
windy breezes are given birth.
God only cries with shame for man.
God painted rainbows from palets of colored pacts with man.
God turns up the heat of the Sun when man gets cold.
God opens his arms to man when he wants to welcome his son back
up to his fold and home.
God welcomes his lost sheep back only when man finds his way back
to beliefe in his father.
God does send down to Earth snow and ice from his dissappointed cold heart, only after man erringly errs from God's ways and laws-to sin.
God is the almighty creator and man's own father...
To be forgiven by Him we must all love our fellow man and commit no sin.
So that on judgement day we will be able to anew begin.

poem by Michael Gale
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A Mother's Love!

A mother's love is never faltering.
A mother's love is never halting.
A mother's judgement is never erring.
A mother's dream is to supply all needs.
A mother's goal is to instill good deeds.
A mother's commitment, is to the one, that
she loves!
A mother's reward is thanks, for all of
the aboves!
This mother says 'she will always protect
you all your life'...'Just to see that there is
no danger or strife'.'For a sharing of love
is my duty to you'...'Your happiness, i'll
guarantee to make, you safe and true! '
'I'll kiss those owie's to make them not hurt'...
'I'll buy you nice things for school, maybe new
shoes and a shirt.' 'My love will stay forever
and ever'...'To you i'll never say never! '
'My love for you shall never fade'...'And
that's the promise that i've made! '

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poem by Michael Gale
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I Am Greed, I Am, I Am

I am greed...
I travel with wide spread fast speed.

From man to woman and man...
As fast as i seriously may or can.

For i am the emotion that is hardest for all to leave as beat...
I instill to the beastly man intolerable jealousy and hateful heated heat.

Greed does take away all mens rights as freed...
For i am man's most hated breed.

I perform all types of evil breeded seed...
I grow up taller than many other types of a well growing of a weed.

I branch out as if in lately fashionable style...
I can't be stopped, to this fact there is no denial.

I possess many a soul...
I remove from man and woman an unreachable saintly filled like like lifely goal.

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poem by Michael Gale
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Rude Or Thoughtless People- As Beings.

Do you want to know what is a stupid thing in life to do? ....Leaving the car keys locked inside a running car.

That has got to be the biggest bone head, thing to do...That in itself would be the excuse to get a brain that is different or at least, brand new.

Another stupid and thoughtless feat, that one should ever claim to accomplish, is to drink alcohol, or text, or even talk on a cell phone, while driving in traffic...The effects of this blunder-could be quite tragic.

Life should not be dealt with so willy nilly...Everyone should get a brain, and quit being so stupid and silly.

Another dumb thing to do is leave your child inside a car, unattended, in their car seat...Especially, in high degrees of temperatures of the Sun's killing heat.

With the key in the ignition...There here, should be no indignation.

People should not hit or mistreat a wife or a child...They should not let their temper go ramped and wild.

poem by Michael Gale
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A Canary, And Peanut Butter, And Jelly, Sandwitch.

I once ate a sandwich made of peanut-butter and jelly...
This sandwich, by someone, tasted quite rotten, and smelly.

Into my stomach, uneasily, it went down...
To my face, was sadly, put a frown.

I went to the hospital to have my stomach pumped, where I met a sailor...
Who obviously, had a bad tailor.

You might say, 'that this lad, was a seaman'...
But-for the Navy, he worked, and so-he was no, free man.

This seaman, could not swim...
You might say 'that he joined, on a whim'.

This non-swimming seaman, had a cat...
That was known by all, to eat mice, dogs, or even a bat.

One day this cat, ate a bat, that was owned by a witch...
This witch, got quite angry, at the cat that ate her bat, and

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poem by Michael Gale
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Redirected Rage At Students Unblessed-Thank God, I'm No Longer Possessed.

Redirected rage tossed aside it's predestined path...
Can't blame 'nother problem by school and math.

In high school i was at a stand still in summer school math
and American history...
Never got an a or even a dee.
T'was just an eff just due to me.

I did not want ta become a rocket scientist or teacher of years
in time...
What law had i broken? -What caught was my crime?

Art and English were just my best subjects...
That fact was clear to my teachers, no lie or not even a false pretext or subtext.

As a teenager i was hard to control...
The grade school hall monitor was always out on Mike Gale patrol.

Fights were attracted to me as like a mighty over powering magnet...
That should seem to all readers of this bad fact that is solomnly

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poem by Michael Gale
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Old Female Teachers With Poloroid Cameras Can Catch You Smilin' Surprised.

I once had a substitute teacher with hair of blue...
This fact that i tell to you remains factually true.

One time other i had a female home room teacher with a hairry mustached upper lip...
It gifted her with a five o'clock shadow just under her noses tip.

I once attended a classroom inside a make-shift circle of cabinets
and book shelves and a portable black board.

All this shelving like wagon trained formed inside a school's gymnasium basketball court...
This female teacher, when after we've misbehaved.

T'would fastly whip out her Poloroid Land Camera...
So that she could inform our parents when we were bad, with a
split second visual report.

She was a party pooper this female teacher of ours...
She was a poor sport and also was kind of fat and olden and even
real tiny like short.

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poem by Michael Gale
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