Arthur the Stalwart President

You know Jefferson, Nixon,
Washington and Lincoln,
Carter and Clinton,
Father Bush and Son;
But do you recall
The most famous president of all?

Arthur the Stalwart President
Had been a little shady
And if you ever saw him,
You'd even say "What a dandy!"

All the cabinet members
Used to laugh and call him names.
They never let poor Arthur
Join in any cabinet games.

Then one muggy summer day,
Giteau came to say:
"Arthur, with my gun so bright,
I'll make you president tonight!"

Then, all the people mourning said,
"Garfield's dead! Chinamen and
Civil servants, oy vay!"
But our Arthur lead the way.

Then his countrymen loved him
As they shouted out with glee:
"Arthur the Stalwart President,
You'll go down in history!

Moo-moo Cow

Moo-moo cow, I love you; yes, I do.
Milk flows from you; Oh, sweet juice of moo.
When we meet, you greet me: moo, moo, moo.

Butterfly, Flutter By

Butterfly, flutter by.
Dance away; weigh a a dance.
Taste the day, bright delight.
Linger not; naught lingers.

A poem completed on 25 August 2004

The Night, the grave's dark shadow, Day's grim end,
Before mine eyes as Death's reminder stands.
At Twilight's passing, blindly grope mine hands;
For Day's deceitful comforts did descend.
At night reflection dimly fades from view.
On earth, each stone, each pebble, ev'ry rock,
Becomes for strolling feet a stumbling block.
The roaming man in shadow seeks rescue.
With Night seduction cries to mope.
Temptation bids mine heart, "Despair, despair";
The veil of darkness hides the world's repair,
And falling passion blackens Life's small hope;
  But nightfall teaches thoughtful hearts to pray,
  To contemplate, to trust in Judgement Day.

Please suggest a title for this poem.

'Tis I

'Tis I, betraying Thee, oh Son of Man,
Exchanging life and soul for silver's shine.
'Tis I, denying Thee, in front of man,
In dark, declaring not to be of Thine.
At night the garden slept; Thy Body bled.
The steps of soldiers came with sword for Thee.
Disrobed, empty, fruitless, I thence fled;
In shadows walking, parted I from Thee.
The Cross of Christ is come, is rais'd on high.
Thine own belov'd beholds, receiving her.
His own he makes the woman, but not I.
Mine habitation stands apart from her.
  Bestow Thy grace on me, a slave, as friend
  And son and brother life on earth to end.