Should Have Jumped Farther

Saw a ditch, 'twas filled with mud
I eyed it for a while.
My mind went over pros and cons,
My mouth turned to a smile.
I slowly backed a good distance,
Past trees and rocks and stumps;
I took a breath and stretched my legs
For my stupendous jump.
And then I started, eyes held fast,
A straight line to my goal,
Coordinated each long stride,
Aware of every hole.
And then I planted my left foot
And pushed with all my might,
I swung my right leg to the sky,
I'm sure I was a sight.
The wind was racing 'gainst my face;
I floated through the air,
I must have flown for time unknown,
I didn't have a care.
Until I landed in the squish,
The mud splashed to my chin,
I should have jumped a bit farther,
I guess I'll try again.

If It's Not One Thing, It's Another!

Broke a bone the other week and went to see the Doc.
He fixed it up and as I left I tripped over a rock.
Chipped a tooth and saw the dentist two blocks down the road.
Received a crown, but had to go and stopped up his commode.
Plunged it well, and so it flushed, but dropped my wedding band.
Fished it out and walked outside, that day was not as planned.
Got in my car, it wouldn't start, yes, I was out of fuel.
Thumbed a ride from a old farmer and sat on the back of his mule.
Got bucked off and landed on my rump and tore my jeans.
Patched them up with Duct Tape, worst job you've ever seen.
Walked on home but stepped in poo, left by a dog or hen.
Took off my shoes and walked barefoot but stepped in poo again.
Washed my feet, but cut my toe on a piece of broken glass.
Wrapped it up and walked on home in hopes that day would pass.
Made it home, and walked right in but slipped on my son's sock.
Fell down hard and broke a bone, and walked back to the Doc.

Resolution of a Prisoner

This year I'd like to shine my chains
And make my chalk lines straighter.
Then count the rocks upon the floor;
Then count them backwards later.
I'll touch the stones upon the walls
As high as I can reach,
Then think of all the fruits I miss,
Like apples and a peach.
I'll look at the ceiling for a month or two,
Then the floor until July;
I won't blink through the month of August,
Or at least I'll give it a try.
Maybe I'll stand for a couple of weeks,
Without ever shifting my feet.
Or create a new language I'll speak with myself,
By chattering my teeth.
I could open my mouth or scratch my head
Or hold my breath again;
There are so many things I could do this year,
Where should I begin?
I need to write a song or two
And sing them to myself.
I need to finally buckle down
And catch that invisible elf.
I'd like to trim my fingernails,
But my teeth are mostly gone;
Or braid my hair and beard and chest,
Which last year I postponed.
I'd better get started so I can get through -
I'm beginning these today.
"Oh Heck!" I counted my chalk lines wrong!
It's really only May.