This is the literary weblog of Jeffrey W. Hull, M.D., a pediatrician. It is intended mainly as a place to maintain a collection of poetry created for the enjoyment of a few friends and as an archive for my family. All material is protected by US copyright.

Jeffrey Hull

Friday, August 26, 2005


Old Joe stopped by the other day,
Was sorry that he could not stay —
But left a casserole of sprains
And sundry aches and minor pains;
He had to rush, but just dropped in
To comment on my wrinkled skin
As only closest friends will do:
"As always, dear, I think of you."

© 2005 Jeffrey Hull

Friday, August 19, 2005

Summer's End

Night sky, 2007
Misty trees, West Virginia © 2007 Rick Lee

First yellow fringes coyly hint their clue,
What nascent autumn's handiwork will do
To dancing leaf and August-swaying limb
Now vainly seeking out time's antonym.
Too short! too short! the mockingbird complains
But gains no longer summer for his pains;
Mosquitoes of the heavy dusk drink deep
Of ruby wine that beckons winter sleep.
Expectant summer gestates deep within
Her rip'ning belly autumn's discipline,
Whose spark will soon ignite the verdant leaves
In flaming hues above the harvest sheaves;
The autumn jewels in nature’s coronet
Admired but yet not worn—not yet, not yet.

© 2005 Jeffrey Hull

Friday, August 12, 2005


A package came today Express
To liven up my loneliness;
   It was the strangest steel device
For crushing hearts in soft caress.

The paperwork? devoid of price.
Instructions? there was no advice.
   It seems to be for squeezing tears —
But then your glance should quite suffice.

In usage, too much pain adheres
And gums the brightly polished gears,
   Which makes the cleanup such a mess;
Best send it back—or so one hears.

© 2005 Jeffrey Hull

Friday, August 05, 2005

© 2004 - all rights reserved - reproduced by permission


I wonder what the dragonflies expect
   When morning sunlight wakes their double wings;
If rising from their reeds, they recollect
   The prior day of marshy happenings.

And fly they forth with plans to fill the day,
   Or goals to optimize each sunlit hour,
To maximize their take of insect prey
   With quotas of mosquitoes to devour?

Or live they in each moment as it comes
   To revel in their iridescent now
In blissful ignorance of charts and sums
   Like happy little children of the Tao.

© 2005 Jeffrey Hull
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