Bahhum Bug

Far, far away theres a little, old town,
Where bugs scuttle free and roam all around,

That's right, I said bugs, little insects and such,
They walk and they talk and they keep in good touch,

Just like us people they eat and they sleep,
But from our point of view they seem only to creep,

They ride around town but not in bug truckies,
Here they ride carriages and the bugs pull the buggies,

And at the edge of this town lives the kindest young bug,
If you were tiny and saw him he'd give you a big hug,

But this friendly bug seems only to annoy,
For his name isn't one that normally brings joy,

He comes from afar and is named after that place,
He comes from Bahhum, and such is the case,

He's the bug from Bahhum, and a hole his name's dug,
It's a rotten coincidence for the nice, young, Bahhum Bug

The Cookie Platter Plague

The cookie platter plague is not something to take lightly,

If it gets you even once, it’s bound to get you nightly,

You think you can run, and you think you can hide,

You think you’ll eat just one, but two you’ve already eyed,

Before you know it, you’ve had 3 then five and then ten,

It’s only a matter of time before you swear, “never again.”

You go farther and a farther away, to the other side of the room,

To avoid the Cookie Platter Plague and all its impending doom,

But doom and gloom you should embrace for there is something you should know,

That’s only the first house Santa, and you have plenty more to go.

YSA Christmas Breakfast

Love Stinks

Once there was a girl, who really, really stunk,

It wasn't from the swamp where she fell in and sunk,

For daily she bathed and loved a good dunk,

It wasn’t her messy room and all of her junk.

Or her dirty dolls and toys she kept in a wooden trunk,

Nor did she get smelly from some smelly funk

And didn’t stink from her bed down on the bottom bunk,

Not because she traveled and lived with the monks,

Nor cause the spaghetti she spilled in big chunks,

Or from the garbage she emptied out in huge hunks,

Oh no, my friends. It’s definitely not as you thunk,

The reason she stunk was cause she fell in love with a skunk.

William Barrow

William Barrow was the best, beetdigger in all the land,

In his first year digging beets, he harvested twelve grand,

In year two he doubled that, and the entire size of his farm,

In year three he had beets, spilling right out of the barn,

In year four he had more, in fact he had a million,

By year five Mr. Will, why he had beetdug a billion,

Thus he had too many beets, whatever would he do?

He should have seen this coming back in year number two,

Mr. Barrow had more beets, far more than he could carry,

Carrying them one by one, would take so long it was scary,

But in year six Will came up with a genius plan,

Using some sticks, an old wheel, and a big, metal can,

He hooked them together and stacked beets high as a sparrow,

And moved the beets in loads, that genius Will Barrow.

Ode to 26

Oh brother Scott, this one is for you,

Today is your birthday, quarter century number two

The big twenty six, and big I hope it to be,

Twenty five is no more, and the difference you shall see,

Twenty five is for rookies, young guns without drive,

But you are twenty six and really hitting your stride,

No more meaningless dates, or dead-end careers,

At age twenty six you’re wise beyond your years,

No more eating at tables, for you it’s breakfast in bed,

Cereal never tasted so good as when a pillow’s under head,

And car payments, HAH, you laugh in their face,

You own that Veloster, with style and with grace,

And don’t get me started on your new fashion tricks,

You look so dapper, it should be Forever Twenty Six,

Even your basketball skills have suffered but naught,

In fact you’re developing a decent old man shot,

And forget about jogging, that’s whipper snapper play,

Rather a gentle cycle on a warm, sunny Saturday,

No more eating veggies or whatever you don’t want,

Just pop a gummy vitamin cause nobody’s there to daunt,

And bonus NBA channels? You see no reason why not,

For it’s your TV subscription, and the Jazz are gonna be hot,

There’s a lot you can do now, you have turned Twenty Six,

You can live your own life, full of giggles and full of kicks,

And do what you want, when you want, and how,

Cause twenty five is over and twenty six is right now,

So my dear brother enjoy, today and beyond as well,

Cause I’m still twenty three and have two more years of hell.