| Other Poetry |
| The Story Of A Dog |
| There once was a dog from Montana, And he wasn't very tall. He looked like a hog from Botswana, But actually he was very small. He went to live in Boston, With his mother and daddy. He had a girlfriend from Austin, Whose name was Peppermint Patty. She was a real beauty, And had the scent of a rose. She loved him as was her duty, And had a very cold nose. He was named Herman and had fleas, And she had a big fat tick. Herman always said please, And Patty was real sweet and slick. Herman and Patty got married, And they planted some Red Oak trees. The trees they never carried, And now the trees are full of bees. |
| By Marcus Riley, Spring 1997. |
| Copyright, Esposito Publishing Group, 2001. |
| When A Man Wants His Girl To Come Back |
| Life is harder without you here. I wish you were here. I want to whisper in your ear. I want to smell the fragrance of your hair. I'm blue without you here. |
| By Marcus Riley, Fall 1997 |
| Copyright, Esposito Publishing Group, 2001. |
| MORNING'S GLORIES |
| Pushing their faces towards the sun's warming, Morning Glories smile as they greet the morning. Drinking of the sweet dew on the grass. Their slim bodies stand tall with a touch of class. As the first songs of Spring deliver greetings, The softness of the wind whispers scornings. Morning Glories endeavor to stay out of the way, Acknowledging the activity of the day. The growl of a lawn mower erupts in the yard. There was no where to go, and hiding was hard. A neighbor stepped to the fence to speak, Giving the Morning Glories a chance at retreat. As the sun yawns, reaching its peak, The morning glories nod in the afternoon heat. When the evening's coolness wanders in, Morning Glories hide their faces to await morning again. |
| By Marcus Riley, Fall 1994. |
| Copyright, Esposito Publishing Group 2001. |
| Storms |
| Pitter patter pitter patter is the rain as it pitter patters on the roof. Pop pop goes hail stones as the pop on the ground like horses' hooves. Boom boom goes the thunder as it booms in the sky. Flash flash goes the lightning as it flashes by. Whooosh whooosh goes the wind as it whoooshes by. |
| By Marcus Riley, Spring 1995 |
| Copyright, Esposito Publishing Group, 2001. |
| The Mountain |
| Trees dot a painting of green and blue A stream runs icy cold, cutting the ground A cabin is home for some people here The Indians live in Teepees A garden rests in the valley Flowers dot the ground with shades of yellow Some are pink and Colorado Sky Blue The sky is always pretty with cotton ball clouds. |
| By Marcus Riley, Spring 1995 |
| Copyright, Esposito Publishing Group, 2001. |
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| Editor's note: This poem is not to be taken seriously. |
| Editor's Note: The poetry contained on this page belongs to Esposito Publishing Group. Esposito Publishing Group holds the exclusive Rights to all of the poetry on this page. Theft of this poetry in the form of plagiarism is a violation of applicable laws. For permission to use this poetry in any form aside from reading it off the screen, email Esposito Publishing Group or get the expressed written consent of Esposito Publishing Group. |