Was it a success? I can say it was, yes,
But next year I shall not repeat it.
For I know now as fall casts its spell over all
It kept me too busy to eat it.
by Ray Romine Thursday, October 11, 1951
Author: Ray Romine
Variety Is The Price Of Life
There once lived a miser from Marion
Who subsisted entirely on carrion
Til one day he tried cake,
Which he just couldn’t take,*
And I think maybe that’s him they’re buryin’.
*or:
Which he had his wife bake,
or
Which turned out a mistake,
by Ray Romine Saturday, October 12, 1946
Vanishing American (Boy)
Always he’s beneath our feet ,
When we do not want him.
Until, of course, it’s time to eat-
Then we have to hunt him.
by Ray Romine Monday, August 28, 1950
Valentine
I find, with all the dough I’ve made,
And those deductions I have paid,
March fifteenth gives me more than pause
Upon the heels of Santa Claus.
So I, denuded and bereft,
Extend my heart–it’s all that’s left.
by Ray Romine Friday, November 30, 1951
Vagabond
In a glossed procession ,
New cars pass me by.
How they fill with yearning
One as poor as I.
Each worm has his inning:
Watch one driver. He
Envies me my whistle–
Poor but happy me!
by Ray Romine Monday, September 15, 1947
Vacuum-pack
My ideas spring from the air, I claim,
And I want everybody to know it.
Which could easily be, for I think you’ll agree
They show it …..
by Ray Romine Wednesday, February 6, 1952
Vacuum Cleaner
It looks in all the corners;
It prowls across the rug,
And darts in all directions
Like some one-eyed bug.
Its song is very friendly–
It’s a pet that cannot hurt,
And it’s very inexpensive,
For all it eats is dirt!
by Ray Romine Monday, June 30, 1952
Vacation Schedule
Mother: “I prefer the shore.”
Brother: “Mountains. Shore’s a bore.”
Daughter: “Dance and skate a bit.”
Father: “Thanks. I’d rather sit.”
Why discuss it anymore?
Pack up, children, for the shore.
by Ray Romine Wednesday, June 20, 1951
Vacancy
Abandoned now, the bluebirds’ home,
Snow upon its faded roof,
Stands as a forgotten home
Somehow saddened and aloof.
Its sprightly tenants, distant now,
Splash some southern garden scene
Riotously, yet somehow
Harmonizing blue with green!
Here north, the gardener, kicking snow,
Aches for a flash of sky-hued wing;
And later, by the fireplace glow,
He dreams of bluebirds, sun, and spring.
by Ray Romine Monday, December 19, 1949
Use Hand-Rail
Wax , if you must, my old gray car;
But steps I like the way they are .
Oh , if you wax them, I’ll agree
They won’t wear out- -through use by me!
by Ray Romine Tuesday, March 8, 1949