Iron Horses Farm

By Donna Fitzgerald The vampire is in the living room With the chain-smoking Self-promoting babysitter The priest sweeps the ashes with a broom The tempest is in the teapot And she getting bitter The doctor has no remedy for doom The nurse holds the basin To catch all...

Right as Rain

By Donna Fitzgerald The rain isn’t red They tell me it’s all in my head And the sky isn’t azure blue The sun doesn’t shine for most of the time And the weatherman doesn’t have a clue Rain on the window Brings the black and green scarecrow With a word from the other...