The Cowtown druggist is renown-
he pledges not to settle down,
the only use for tux and gown
is at a ball,
a formal fete that fills the town's
This bachelor has splendid skill,
he kills the pain with just a pill.
A chemist with a working mill,
his life is great,
so full of promise and goodwill,
if left to fate.
The womenfolk still try to match
the pretty gals to such a catch,
forever plots they try to hatch,
to no avail,
a preacher they will soon dispatch
if they don't fail.
The trade winds are swirling, as sterling
silver hinges are ever clapping,
traverse the Atlantic while frantic
crewmen tighten the sails, flapping
The Captain's calm orders, the boarders
mustn't linger near sailmast rigging,
they batten the galley, and tally
crates of wheat grains, and digging
An island approaches, encroaches
on horizon's once growing outline,
the captain, first hip-checked, now shipwrecked,
signals crew to swim, make a bee-line
The white sand of beaches impeaches
Captain's standing, a need arises
for a leader to follow, not wallow,
tropic weather is full of surprises,
For years it had gathered the wicked and poor,
the church in the vineyard would open its door
to any whose faith wasn't true anymore.
The winery sat in the temple's garage,
once worked by the church's abject entourage,
converting their anger with moral massage.
The small congregation was thinning by day,
The rural life losing its peaceful array
of orchards and farms, to the pastor's dismay.
But grapes of the vineyard would still have their care,
the Riesling made in the height of despair
by sinful parishioners' souls in repair.
Jack has published over 350 poems in his career, many accompanied by his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana.