The Prancing Pen

Pull up a seat for the fire’s ablaze
And there’s many a tale untold.
Rest up your feet, remember the days
A good story never grew old.
Look—if you dare—to something out there
On edge of a sound barely heard.
Stay in a chair and go anywhere
On wings of a spellbinding word.
Lost in a thought just found in a rhyme
Hold tight or you’ll lose it again;
Willingly caught and musing the time
In the light of the prancing pen.


—Weylan Deaver

That Big and Flashy Brand

I love that big and flashy brand
Of beans — its date will soon expire,
But never mind! — It’s filled with sand,
But spicy — it’s got that Mexican fire —
And it’s big — did I say its size is grand?
Just everybody loves and buys it —
It’s rich! — And food elites despise it.


The man of steel came flying down,
Laying waste our little town.
Buildings crashed, the dust was high,
Thanks to Zod and man from the sky.
With S on his chest and grin on his face,
Superman leveled the whole city space.
The battle was long, seeming never to end
As Cal-El faced off with his father’s old friend.
They punched, they hit, they crashed through walls,
Ignoring normal protocols.
Eventually Superman saved the day.
But what a price we had to pay.
While heroes save from villains and stress,
They sure can leave behind a mess.


–Lacey Deaver