Greg Mote
Hub Summary Folio Stuff Mechanical Reference
Sonnets
There's nothing worse than a pain in the mouth.
Except when it lasts for four painful years.
It makes a sensible person go South,
where they can hid until pain disappears.
The orthodontist perseveres and life
in agony continues on still more.
The suffering and torture invoke strife
on levels that no human could adore.
With tools of affliction the work is done,
the pliers and wrenches cause no harm.
The end is near, the time has come. All fun
and fear of removal cause no alarm.
The relief is now here. The wire that griped
your face is gone. Of the pain you are stripped.

The ancient architectural folklore
of Roman culture can still be found.
Though most have fallen to the lowly ground
the ones remaining are numbered in score.

Epoch, through wind and rain has hewn and bore
through work that all who visit does astound.
Made of simple designs these works surround
the town. Strength and power no one ignores.

These ancient pictures of people long past
which have withstood the riggers of time now
gone by will last to tell the populace.

Through wars untold rulers they do last.
To the great masses these structures allow
the past to be seen by our decendents.

I went to market, it was closed. The ham
in charge kicked me right out. I said to him,
"There is no need to go out on a limb,
I am just waiting for my friend." KA-BAM!
the sound rung out. To all around the ram
was a suprising sight. From the far rim
of the small valley a voice spoke quite grim,
"Do not be scared the beast is tame, I am."

From edge to rim, the valley sang, "Hurray,
our problems are over, the beast is sane.
We shall live forever in harmony."

The ram is gone, but all do tend to say
that danger is in the face of the plane.
The incident, though short, made some money.