Heart of Whimsy !

  It is time. You are formed and ready The world awaits to greet you. Who are you?  Infant debutant, show yourself. An anxious life begins. It unfolds. So much to see. So much to learn. So many choices. You question, you try. You laugh, you cry. You feel, you grow. You're not alone. Others are here. You share and play. You have your own will. You find your way. Days for fun, days for tears, You know joy, confusion, fear. Victories won, battles lost. Mistakes are made. Nevertheless, you endure. You bear your guilt. Those who dare judge neglect their own shame. Only your pardon, can ease your pain. Only your pardon will ease your pain. I know. I know well. Release your pain. Learn, grow, live on. You are wiser, stronger,  You forgive and know forgiveness. Your mettle is forged. You will know love. You will share love. This purpose alone is your raison d'être.

Two Views ( Dueling verses but no banjoes) by Marc E. Brodeur and  Bob Brodeur A concrete canyon of steel and stone. A din of eight million voices, More hive than home. A concrete canyon of steel and stone. A chorus of eight million voices, They are home. Be it din, or chorus or cacophony New York City is a sight to see. Visitors in awe will gaze, as they navigate the concrete maze. But we who bask in Fenway ranks, Thumb our nose at those damned Yanks. If I dare continue this friendly duel  I fear I am not in your league. What you craft in mere minutes, takes me more hours than say, extra innings. I have navigated those mazes, And yes, gazed in some awe. And yes, we who bask in Fenway franks, 'er I mean ranks, Flip our proboscis at those damned Yanks! Oh echo from my younger branch, our efforts are a lark. What will be said of we two clowns, one Robert and then Marc? What spirit coursing in your blood provokes t...