Triolet for the Librarian Who Died in Bed
They told me she died in her sleep;
They refused to acknowledge her pain.
The truth was lost with a sweep.
They told me she died in her sleep.
They said there's no need to weep;
It became a constant refrain.
They told me she died in her sleep;
They refused to acknowledge her pain.
Triolet for My Kombucha
Three cheers for my Kombucha!
I love it and that's no bull.
Does it taste lousy? You betcha!
Three cheers for my Kombucha!
If you wanna taste, I'll letcha
take from mine a hefty swigful.
Three cheers for my Kombucha!
I love it and that's no bull.
Triolet for My Father
Now you're cookin' with gas!
That's what my father used to say.
No one ever caught him sittin' on his ass.
Now you're cookin' with gas!
I still hear him though he has passed,
Yet he was never all work and no play.
Now you're cookin' with gas!
That's what my father used to say.
Triolet for My Old Friends
Some people I want to meet again;
For now I keep them in my memory.
I'm waiting with love until then.
Some people I hope to meet again,
But I really don't know when.
I feel sadness thinking of their story.
Some people I'll never meet again,
But they'll always be in my memory.
Triolet for Kierkegaard
Kierkegaard says life's learned backwards.
No wonder our troubles accumulate.
We never quite find the right words.
Kierkegaard says life's learned backwards.
The problem is that we live forwards.
No one has a solution as of this date.
Kierkegaard says life's learned backwards.
No wonder our troubles accumulate.
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