Bruce Howard Hamilton

Composed in pain and ample forms of folly,

my books might, somehow, seem entirely jolly.

I've often stuck to verses that spell 'ditty '

in ways some worlds could deem so wildly witty

as not to have to greet with perfect pity.

Though faceless here, I swim the Internet

and fully sense I'll never once regret

how all this hairiness stays mostly set

on proving that some webpages must let

humanity feel ducky and unwet.

>>> My SONNET 321 [somewhat as it first was???]

Could all the nations of the world unite,

and all its languages combine as one,

and all its races mingle in delight,

slight Planet Earth might long outlive the Sun;

yet, now we seem to stay in constant doubt

of whether any widespread harmony

can even start before the lights go out

and Man has ended all his history.

The best solution to the countless woes

that keep proclaiming our uneasy state

may lie in means that no-one yet quite knows

would nicely serve to please the hands of fate.

A smile or frown, a slap or gentle kiss --

all these, and more, might breed an endless bliss.

>>> 'Limerick' xyz##&&

There once was a scrawler named 'Bruce'

who dwelt in some splendid caboose.

He also INSISTED

most worlds were so TWISSST*#ED,

geometry really lacked USE ....

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