Dark Shades

Poem By Merry A. Berg

In the day time he sat in bright light.
In the night he sat in pitch black. Between 9:00 a.m. and 9:00 p.m.
He was mauled, wiped, donned by them. Yesterday a beautiful girl came by.
She almost gave them a try. Behind her a senior man arrived.
He also gave him a try. Of all that people see and hold,
They wish to wear something bold. Yet there he sits lonely, dark, brooding.
Hanging by a small bracket, foreboding. Until a lad should happen by and declare,
"Oh these are cool, more than fair!" Out of the bright light and pitch black
He was taken to be put in a pair of slacks. He heard whistling, he heard humming, a bell!
Ouch! He was jostled, pulled out, do tell! Shoplifting is a crime punishable by law.
Dark shades or not someone saw.

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Mr. Mole

Sneaking along a small tubular tunnel
Like a spy looking for a way out Brown and hairy, a melanoma to lawns
To push away a barrier of stones Weighing more than 6.02214x10/232 molecules
When he emerged from a hole. Protected like a harbor

Stanley

He had a steely presence about him.
Tall and cold and trim. No emotion did he show
Yet warmth could from him flow. A silent listening type was he.
Sometimes resting under a tree. "He can be quite a corker,"