THE DEAD GAME BOOK TOUR

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THOSE BLUEBELLS

1 blue bells

 

Bluebells to ring in the summer

when life can be such a bummer.

Tiny lights to brighten the day.

I’m happy they are here to stay.

Sweet fragrance sent from the Almighty.

Soothing music to calm the mighty.

THE WASHING MACHINE

 

 

I’m having a bad dream,

no, maybe a nightmare,

of a washing machine.

 

It wakes me up at night.

It rumbles and whispers.

I hope it won’t take flight.

 

It’s moving and grooving

to a beat of its own,

that is far from soothing.

 

It’s a horrible sight.

A machine set to hard.

It’s ready for a fight.

 

I scream into my pillow.

“My clothing is all too clean,”

then I weep like a willow.

HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL

 

What can be better

than sitting on a bench

in the warm weather,

watching people, and

daydreaming?

Nothing.

 

opticallyaroused:

 

Warm weather,

soft winds,

pretty blooms,

are all part of the

best time of year.

Welcome to spring.

 

Spring = Flowers.

 

Hope springs eternal.

Enjoy the new season!

 

WE’RE HERE

WE’RE HERE
A walk through the cemetery.
Darkness is my friend.
The moon my buddy.
The stars keep me company.
“Who goes there?”
I hear in the distance.
Is that the night watchman?
Has he seen somebody?
Should I continue walking?
All is quiet.
The mist...

 

WE’RE HERE

A walk through the cemetery.
Darkness is my friend.
The moon my best buddy.
Shining stars to keep me company.

“Who goes there?”
A voice calls in the distance.
Is that the night watchman?
Has he seen somebody?

Should I continue walking?
All is quiet.
The mist moves.
It parts, and I can see—

What is that?
Skeletons are rising from graves.
And I can hear the music.
They are dancing to the beat.

Skulls are swiveling.
Bony feet are tapping.
Who knew a cemetery
could be such fun?

WELCOME

1 book WELCOME TO THE PARTY

 

Welcome to our castle.

Not to be a hassle.

But please knock on the door.

It might open no more.

Until midnight strikes doom on the head.

All will be gone except for The Dead.

THE DEAD GAME 

A RIDE ON THE WILD SIDE

 

 

A ride to hell and back.

I will sit in the back.

We fly through the night air.

Sound barriers we tear.

Demons fly by our side.

I have nowhere to hide.

They take us to their lair.

I’m pulled hard by my hair.

Life is over for me.

I’ll never be set free.

WHERE ARE ALL THE PEOPLE?

CNV00025 Thames footpath (by jim sedgley)

 

WHERE ARE ALL THE PEOPLE?

People were here earlier.

Women pushed strollers.

Joggers raced by.

Tourists held cameras.

Where did they go?

Take a peek in the tunnel.

You’ll find them.

Lined up

like wrapped packages.

Happy Birthday!