Re: Writing as a hobby.

Little Puppy
I saw a little puppy
His tail is black and white
His body is a sable brown
Now if he ain't a sight

His ears are a flopping
His tiny tail does wag
His feet are big and fuzzy
His skin how it does sag

I see a little puppy a walking up the street
He lopes from side to side
I really think he's sweet

I saw a little puppy
his tail was black and white
His body was a sable brown
But now he's out of sight.

Love it! keep on posting your poems

Here is another poem I wrote

Rock -n-roll in my soul
Whenever I hear that oldies beat
I can't help movin my feet
My legs and hips I can't control
I've got rock-n-roll in my soul

The music starts with the drum
my mind catches on and starts to hum
my bones start shaking out of control
I've got rock-n-roll in my soul

I wish I was back in the day
when music had something to say
peace and love was on the role
I've got rock-n-roll in my soul

whenever I hear that oldies beat
I can't help movin my feet
my legs and hips I can't control
I've got rock-n-roll in my soul

Vivions of you
I have visions of your beauty
I can see your golden hair
your form so light and graceful
as you softly ascend the stair

The soft glow of your eyes
are a vision to behold
they are bluer than the skies
the mysteries they unfold

From the window you tenderly wave
My thoughts I can't express
the moment,the picture,I must save
that vision of your loveliness

Oh,I can not clear my mind
my memories are blind
my dreams at night are few
they are all visions of you

This one is mushy! lol

haiku

one day I took a boat out
but i fell in, now
my clothes are all wet through, see?

Living outback Australia in a small town there isn't much to do.
So 9 months of the year it is extreemly hot so most of my evening time is spent outside in a deck chair with a cold drink listening to music from the 40/50 and 60s.
I often think up stories in poetry form about things going on around me. But at the end of the night they are at rest, the same as me.
I have put a few on paper.
THE AUSTRALIAN GHOST GUM.
She stands alone so tall and proud, amid a dry an arid land
Her splendid gray, pink trunk which seems to blend so grand
And her leaves a brilliant green gently rustling in the breeze
Silhouetted against the red scorched earth, and a sky of blue

Shes stood there since all time began and faced all tragedies
Through floods an droughts an fires were others have all died
She has truly been remarkable for she has surely survived.

She provided homes and sanctuary for the birds and all their ways
Returning each year to raise their young,and to show their praise
Provided comfort an shelter for pioneers from early days
Who would of perished in the heat of day, if not for her shade.

And in the evenings when daylight has subdued to dreams
The only light that radiates is from the stars and moonbeams
She stands in all her splender with her ghostly glowing haze
For she is such a marvel and deserves all of natures praise.