Monday, September 3, 2018

Fancy Nancy O'Clancy

Fancy Nancy O'Clancy,
From the fanciest part of town,
Came to the Saturday Dance
Wearing the fanciest gown.

The ladies all noticed how Nancy,
From the moment she took off her shawl,
Held all the boys in a trance,
As the fanciest girl at the ball.

I knew right away that miss Nancy
Would dance with each guy for a while,
But for me there wasn't a chance;
I knew that I wasn't her style.

The fellas all gathered 'round Nancy,
But through them, I managed to see;
Her eyes met mine in a glance,
And Nancy smiled at me.

My heart stood still for a moment,
My temperature rose a degree,
I thought there might be a chance
That Nancy would dance with me.

I walked 'cross the room toward Nancy,
Determined I wouldn't be meek;
I started to ask her to dance,
But I was too nervous to speak.

For a while we just stared at each other;
When the tension appeared at it's worst,
A voice from the crowd broke the trance,
Saying, "Look who she's dancing with first!"

Though trembling, I escorted Nancy
To the dance floor while everyone stared;
The music began and we danced,
And that's when I knew that she cared.

Fancy Nancy O'Clancy
Waltzed with me all through the night,
And since that Saturday dance,
She hasn't been out of my sight.

Now me and Nancy O'Clancy
Are married and glad as can be,
All because Fancy Nancy
Took a fancy to me.


Copyright © 2018 Wayne Wysocki
Painting by Vladimir Pervuninsky

Sunday, September 2, 2018

Just A Little Bit Of Hope

by Wayne Wysocki

     "Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence." ~Helen Keller

Let the day begin with just a little bit of hope
Let the hope begin to grow, so every time you grope or struggle
Confidence is yours, and doubt is only for a dope
A tug'll open all the doors of life with just a little bit of hope.


Copyright © 2018 Wayne wysocki
Photo by Luxxxxxx.DeviantArt.com

Friday, August 31, 2018

About The Isle Of Tyre

Wouldst thou for me an air
upon thy tortoise lyre
play, and sing those words so fair
about the Isle of Tyre?

Within whose walls so grand,
there at bazaar would be
hangings made by weaver's hand,
and colored from the sea.

And ships of cedar made,
all crewed by seamen bold,
sailed to shores afar, to trade
for silk and spice and gold.

Consoled by sweet refrain,
I dwell in dreams of Tyre--
going home will e'er remain
my unfulfilled desire.

_______________
The ancient Phoenician city-state of Tyre, an island off the southern coast of Lebanon, was famous for its production of the prized Tyrian purple dye derived from the murex snails found in its waters. --WW

© 2018 Wayne Wysocki
Photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen (@vidarnm) on Unsplash

Thursday, August 30, 2018

Heavenly Pair (of Limericks)

The king of Saturn, it's said,
Has eyes in the back of his head
    To add to the brunt,
    He has none in the front
And so everywhere must be lead.

The king of Jupiter, too,
Has his head on, askew
    He says hello
    When he sees people go,
With only their backsides to view.


© 2018 Wayne Wysocki
Art by ainamartian.deviantart.com

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Two Cigarettes And A Beer

by Wayne Wysocki

Two cigarettes and a beer, dear
That's how long I'll be here
If you never show
Then I'm gonna go
After two cigarettes and a beer.

You know I'm not big on forgivin’
And not much for talkin’ things through
But if you’ll swing on by
I'll give it a try
Though I don't think I'll hear nothin’ new

Baby I've heard your last reason
For standin’ me up like you do
You think it's all right
If I'm waitin’ all night
And that's why I'm just givin’ you

Two cigarettes and a beer, dear
That's how long I'll be here
If you never show
Then I'm gonna go
After two cigarettes and a beer.


Copyright © 2018 Wayne Wysocki
Photo by Alexas_Fotos-Pixabay


Tuesday, August 28, 2018

I'll Wait Until Tomorrow

by Wayne Wysocki

I'll wait until tomorrow
And pray it isn't so,
I'll pretend until the end
That you really didn't go;

As I sit in reverie
You are all I know--
I'll wait until tomorrow
Though you left me long ago.


Copyright © 2018 Wayne Wysocki
Photo by Opsesivna Tjeskoba



Monday, August 27, 2018

Sponge Count

Ernest went to the doctor,
who said that his spleen must come out
The day that he went for his treatment
a rumor was going about

That the doctor was seemingly careless,
and leaving some sponges behind
So Ernest confronted the surgeon,
and gave him a piece of his mind

He ranted until he was flustered,
then after a calming down pause
Told him the staff should be looking,
accounting for sponges and gauze

The doctor was most reassuring;
he said it would all be okay
And told him that he and his nurses
would be looking in earnest today.