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Ode to BobW

He builds for fun,
And not necessarily the ride,
The project is what's inside!

He bends and he welds,
He hammers and cuts,
I'm sure some of his neighbors think he's nuts!

He loves to build cars,
There is no doubt,
If they all disappeared, BobW would pout!

He's one of us old guys,
But still builds them loud,
His creations always please the crowd!

He builds to keep busy,
It keeps him alive,
Projects going now? 4 maybe 5!

An inspiration to the rest of us,
How much stuff you get done,
You don't just quit, along with the sun!

Always able to pass info along,
Winter, summer, spring or fall,
Everything you've done has helped us all!
 
Hmm, a real burst of creative juice for the first of the year....hoho! By the time I got mine out I think 5 or 6 other poems showed up!:D
good stuff all!
 
smallfoot, I am humbled and most appreciative. Thank you very much. I know you would rather be helping a neighbor build a house than sitting at the 'puter making up rhymes.[cl Thank You!
 
Smallfoot, thank you for pointing out something that most people don't think about. Bob, builds cars just to be building, and not for any momentous future driving or selling experience. There may be a few more of us on this forum that's tarred with the same stick.

And I also was writing a poem recently, when I realized other people were also writing and submitting stuff, so I had to get going on mine.

Thank you Smallfoot.
 
Ode to BobW

He builds for fun,
And not necessarily the ride,
The project is what's inside!

He bends and he welds,
He hammers and cuts,
I'm sure some of his neighbors think he's nuts!

He loves to build cars,
There is no doubt,
If they all disappeared, BobW would pout!

He's one of us old guys,
But still builds them loud,
His creations always please the crowd!

He builds to keep busy,
It keeps him alive,
Projects going now? 4 maybe 5!

An inspiration to the rest of us,
How much stuff you get done,
You don't just quit, along with the sun!

Always able to pass info along,
Winter, summer, spring or fall,
Everything you've done has helped us all!




Good stuff smalls !!!!! [cl[cl[cl[cl[cl
 
sigh..

A vacation week to play with my toys
no Missus Crate ~ no sign of the boy
the biggest 2 pests in my country abode
had gone off to work leaving me alone

i backed the Stude right out of the sun
under the carport and started the fun
jacked the thing up axle stand underneath
removed the arm, the breeze scattered leaves

covered in dirt grease and grime
you can imagine im having a wondeful tlme
with projects of course as things often do
these things come apart except for 1 or 2

yup , one of the bushes seemed impossibly stuck
refusing to move ~ a rhyming word "truck"
then i remembered a tool shopping spree
a carbide burr i bought just for me

gently we go wearing it down
removing enough, bush flying around
yup i totally smacked it out with a hammer
totally fixed the bad mamma jammer

assembly time gee whizz i have learned
workshop manual information often spurned
is actually worth reading for clues and tips
the correct way to do it and avoiding slips

been ready to go for more than a week
sliding around i give the stoppers a tweak
down to the milk store to fill from the cow
for mrs Crates coffee in the morning now

right the other wee job the ole 56 stude
lashings of guilt attacked this dude
so out with the angle grinder a 1mm trimmer
sliced out a hole where the steel was thinner

not a big job and not very hard
a pattern to make out of some card
a picture for you i should probably take
much more to do , applause i will make


"thank you very much"
as Elvis was given to say
back tomorrow for another play..
 
Smallfoot, thank you for pointing out something that most people don't think about. Bob, builds cars just to be building, and not for any momentous future driving or selling experience. There may be a few more of us on this forum that's tarred with the same stick.
..........
Thank you Smallfoot.

I'll second that! Some of that "it's the journey thing". [cl[;)[S[;)[cl
 
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I'm sure there are many here that build for different reasons...none of them are bad! Some get into the planning and measuring. Some are anxiously waiting for that first ride. Some are just fleeing the every day stress. Some are doing it for all reasons. Glad you liked it! Not much of a poet here. I'm into building just about anything, mainly to test whether that fleeting idea that comes naturally to me to just see if I can accomplish what my mind is seeing. We have a bunch here that are all successful in their ventures. We see them every day. There is that feeling that we are amongst a shop full of friends that are all willing to give
a hand or advise. I personally am glad to be here! Thanks for all the nice comments!
 
Mac, there's nothing like the thrill of hauling home another project. Putting it into verse preserves and shares that event.
Crate, expressing the fun and relaxation of having a few hours alone to work on your stuff is more than worth a few words in rhyme.
 
A long time ago, I was sitting in my car outside of a country dance hall, dreaming of, and a wee bit scared of girls. That night I met up with a future girl friend, Joy. I wrote this poem about the meeting.

Ode to Joy.
In a parking lot
In seventy two
In a Super Bee
In a mood of blue
Was low on cash
And low on cheer
Sittin’ alone
Nursing a beer.
In a moment or two
In a corner far
In obvious haste
In a line for my car
Strode a girl in white
With long blond hair
A dream of dreams
Right out there.
In her awesome flight
In the night air
In front of her beau
In marked despair.
Approached my car
Got in, in the end
Explained that she was
a friend of a friend.
I put on the act
Like Fonzarelli
It worked like a charm
She came over to me.
She left her date
So eager to please
And started on me
Her ploy as a tease.
I never caught on
‘til it was too late
On her string
Was to be my fate.

Later on Joy drifted away from me and then drifted away from the area. At the turn of the century, I was surprised to see her obituary in the local paper, with this poem attached.
 

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Ya Small, even though I was a way too tame for her, I must have had some redeeming qualities.
About fifteen years ago I met her daughter, a tall girl with dirty blonde hair. She seemed to know more about me than any other stranger would. She hugged me, called me uncle and asked me when I dated her mother. I said, "a long time ago", but that wasn't good enough. She then asked, "exactly when". I wracked my brain and came up with a couple of years. I watched her face as she did some math and then let the disappointment show. She really wanted me to be her Dad, but alas I had poor timing. ------- I could have been reading it all wrong, too.
 
im going to share with you
a fishin story that is quite true
in kayaks on the ocean blue
mrs crate and i just us two

we paddled out, a bouncy sea
2 kayaks the length of ten feet
the waves and troughs were feet three
to catch some fish for us to eat

with sharp hooks we sat waiting
but those dam fish kept on taking
wait theres a whopper snacking
ohh finally a fish was bait taking.

i decided i could use a knife
to find one then was worth my life
as mrs crate watched on, strife !
we could be hungry this night

the way it played it was at least 25
it fought dam hard to stay alive
well there you go,the story thrives
the whopper shrinks while reeling in

it had gone from 25 pounds to 25 cm
dam and blast she heard again
its too small to keep ah disdain
unhook the fish bait up again

more bites as the sun goes down
more and more fish abound
a monster bite the hook gone
getting to dark to hang around

we paddled back with fish bait left
to a cheese and onion toasty
is all i get and a wee drambuie
and a glass of wine for the lady.

good times are hard to beat
with the ocean near to our feet
there are big fish out there
swimming round waiting, just see

sheesh crate its not a car tale
your right but this story could regale
an epic battle dragged to sea
a massive fish thats 3 foot 3!

when i do you wait and see
itll be worth posting a pic to see
of the fish i caught while out at sea
sitting on my boat reeling a feed.
 
Ya Small, even though I was a way too tame for her, I must have had some redeeming qualities.
About fifteen years ago I met her daughter, a tall girl with dirty blonde hair. She seemed to know more about me than any other stranger would. She hugged me, called me uncle and asked me when I dated her mother. I said, "a long time ago", but that wasn't good enough. She then asked, "exactly when". I wracked my brain and came up with a couple of years. I watched her face as she did some math and then let the disappointment show. She really wanted me to be her Dad, but alas I had poor timing. ------- I could have been reading it all wrong, too.

Mac thats a very cool thing either way youve must have meant alot to that girl way back then ! for her to have kept that poem and her daughter catching up with you like that ..
 
The COVID Train

Oh Man...The Covid Train has come to my home

Old man Covid He has taken me out of the garage and away from my beloved truck.

If I was a nasty man.....I'd call him a &%!!

I lay in bed tired and achey like the worst of the flu..... I swear my lips look like they are turning blue

Again my faithful Pit at my side in bed.... all I had to give her today was a piece of bread.

She leaves my side only to go pee....somehow I feel like she is trying to keep the angels away from me.

My Steer Clear came today looking shiney, unlike the first one that looked like someone's hiney.

I believe the COVID I now also have came in that badly taped carton. The packing slip said "proudly packed by Martin"

I won't let old man COVID keep me down, for I know he's nothing but a clown,if he goes near my wife, me and my pup will surely take him down.

She is sick herself upstairs alone, but has kept me fed and up on a throne.

When I woke in the middle of the night from sleeping, I heard my 40 in the garage weeping.

Fear not young lady I said.... I will soon be out of this bed.
 
A long time ago, I was sitting in my car outside of a country dance hall, dreaming of, and a wee bit scared of girls. That night I met up with a future girl friend, Joy. I wrote this poem about the meeting.

Ode to Joy.
In a parking lot
In seventy two
In a Super Bee
In a mood of blue
Was low on cash
And low on cheer
Sittin’ alone
Nursing a beer.
In a moment or two
In a corner far
In obvious haste
In a line for my car
Strode a girl in white
With long blond hair
A dream of dreams
Right out there.
In her awesome flight
In the night air
In front of her beau
In marked despair.
Approached my car
Got in, in the end
Explained that she was
a friend of a friend.
I put on the act
Like Fonzarelli
It worked like a charm
She came over to me.
She left her date
So eager to please
And started on me
Her ploy as a tease.
I never caught on
‘til it was too late
On her string
Was to be my fate.

Later on Joy drifted away from me and then drifted away from the area. At the turn of the century, I was surprised to see her obituary in the local paper, with this poem attached.

WoW....now that's a story! Nice!
 

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