The Last Caboose

We have come today to celebrate

a pairing not so celibate

that’s added to the family mix

a soon-expected number six.

Six children that are under seven

named for candy and backward-heaven,

and now includes, when they get braggin’

Trystan Lewis Azel McLagan.

The challenging poetic chore

is simile and metaphor

on how this pair has matched and mated

using phrases not X-rated.

Turning to that online noodle

we fed to Google the whole caboodle

which gave the great brain pain and strain

until it chugged out railroad train.

Hunter is the large-scale tanker

a thumping, bumping, empty clanker,

and Declan’s car has lots of glass

to spy on everything going past.

The animal car is right for Reece

filled with gators, snakes and geese.

Nevaeh and Kaylee like to star

all dressed up in the parlor car.

Chris supplies the locomotion –

lots of noise and constant motion.

Erika’s the engineer

who looks ahead and tries to steer.

That leaves just one to introduce,

the one who’ll soon be on the loose

all full of wails and poops profuse

Trystan, this train’s last caboose.

Myanmar - February 2013

For Yanks to reach Myanmar

The road is so long and so far.

            You get off the plane

            With stiff lumbar pain

And search for relief in a bar.

But help is not far away

Because Nina is waving, “This Way!”

            Mingalabar

            The hotel isn’t far

And tomorrow will be a new day.

At dawn we’re launched in Yangon

Tour the city and then Schwe Dagon.

            At the golden pagoda

            We behold our first Buddha

Then desperately search for a john.

To Bagan we fly from the coast.

4,000 temples they boast.

            We see markets and nuncs

            Have lunch with the monks

And balloon before most have their toast.

Aye Yarwaddy we attempted to float

Berthed and dined on a sumptuous boat.

            But they fed us so much

            That the bottom we touched

And we’re bussed to Mandalay’s moat.

Then out of the heat and the din

To see where the Brits sipped their gin.

            In the cool of the park

            In the gathering dark

They talked about cricket and kin.

Via Heho some went to a site

To feed elephants dates by the bite

            And then see them roll

            In a deep water hole

And splash in their watery delight.

This brings us right up to today

When we boated the waters Inle.

            Now the red sun has set

            And we think with regret

That we’ve come to the end of our stay.

So let’s toast to Nina, our guide

Who organized bed, food and ride

            And handled our trials

            With charm and with smiles

What a great guide to have at our side.

And to Bob and Diana

Thanks for being the planner

            Of our trip so exotic

            In the land of the tropic

That culminates on this veranda.

Thank you!