Waiting For The Storm
Waiting For The Storm Old snow in the field Winter’s lull sharpens my ears Soon the sky will speak
Waiting For The Storm Old snow in the field Winter’s lull sharpens my ears Soon the sky will speak
Coaching Session A good many years ago I was a member of a television comedy troupe called The Henway Company (what’s a Henway? About four pounds. Cue rim shot, da dum bah!) It was the brain-child of a witty guy named Ray Edelstein, and it was openly based on the sketch comedy of NBC’s “Saturday
The Cruel Mother A minister’s daughter i’ the north, Hey, the rose and the linsey, O, Has fallen in love wi’ her feyther’s clerk, Doun by the greenwood sidey, O! He’s courted her for a year and a day, Hey, the rose and the linsey, O! At last she’s proved wi’ child by him. Doun
A Jazzbo Night Before Christmas ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the pad Not a hepcat was swinging, and that’s nowhere, dad. The stove was hung up in the stocking routine In hopes that the fat man would soon make the scene. The kids had all had it, so they hit their sacks,
As it befell on a high holiday, Small rain from the sky did fall, Our saviour asked his mother Mary If he might go play at ball. “At ball, at ball, my own dear son, It’s time that you were gone! And don’t let me hear of any mischief At night when you come home.”
After Betrayal Nobody knows exactly how it works, The spasm in the heart that makes one face particular. Nobody knows why it hurts when singular passion falls from grace. If the heart is a garden, nobody hoes, or cultivates, or even pulls the weeds. Lovers can never quite master the tools of their own gardening.
Winter is icumen in, Lhude sing Goddamm, Raineth drop and staineth slop, And how the wind doth ramm! Sing: Goddamm. Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us, An ague hath my ham. Freezeth river, turneth liver, Damm you; Sing: Goddamm. Goddamm, Goddamm, ’tis why I am, Goddamm, So ‘gainst the winter’s balm. Sing goddamm, damm, sing goddamm,
I’m the queerest young fellow that ever you heard My mother’s a Jew, my father’s a bird. With Joseph the Joiner I cannot agree So here’s to disciples and Calvary. If anyone things thinks that I amn’t divine He’ll get no free drinks when I’m making the wine But have to drink water and wish
O, TANNENBAUM! Christmas trees have been part of my life since I was a baby. One of my earliest memories is the lovely scent of pine-sap from the fresh-cut tree brought into the little basement apartment where my parents first lived after I was born. World War Two was still on. It remains in my
My love, my pride, my treasure oh My wonder new and pleasure oh My son, my beauty, ever You Who am I to bear You here? 2. The cause of talk and tale am I The cause of greatest fame am I The cause of proudest care on high To have for mine, the King