For Cee’s FOTD
This is the best analysis of what is causing the massive fires on Maui that I have read–from The Page Turns.
Same Genes, Separate Tables
My brother joined a commune where they live on rabbit food.
They find hamburgers shallow and people who eat them rude.
He has said that he’ll guide me into a better life
and save me from the rushing, the chaos and the strife.
He says I’ve build a fort around my inner self
and put all my emotions safe upon a shelf.
Slowing down will help me—give me a brand new chance
to escape the world’s battles and join him in its dance.
I love my brother deeply and hold him in my heart,
yet when it comes to life styles we’re sadly far apart.
I cannot give up cheeseburgers and french fried potatoes
for a life of tofu, kohlrabi and tomatoes!
For the Sunday Whirl, Aug 12, 2023 the prompt words are: guide shallow people chance fort held brother join food rabbit slow rushes
To be truthful, hamburgers and french fries no longer really taste good to me, but neither does most food outside of chocolate and Cheetos! So still not a good candidate for good health and contentment.
For Cee’s FOTD
Something a little different this week and of the visual kind.
These are all close ups of everyday items, but what could they be?
They are numbered 1 and 2, 3 and 4, 5 and 6, 7 and 8, 9 and 10.
Here are my answers. Please pardon my crudity in spots. The pictures made me do it!!!
For Cee’s FOTD
Click on photos to enlarge.
My friend Gloria found a good use for this old boot, but I think it is nature’s intention to reclaim it. It now resides on a ledge in my front garden.
For CBWC Shoes, Boots and Slippers prompt
Click on photo to enlarge.
This is my inside entrance wall leading from the garage to the kitchen. The first stone on the left hand side of the ledge was carved by a friend, the second carving of a face by my husband Bob, and the raccoon rock is from the garden of my friend Gloria.
For Cee’s FOTD
Shooing with Tongue on the Tongue of a Shoe
There once was a mooch named McGerhard McFloo
who spent his whole life on the tongue of a shoe
where he shooed away flintlocks and floogles and stuff.
As a matter of fact, he would get downright rough.
He would beat them with bagels and flog them with floggles
from the foot of their feet to the top of their toggles.
Then he bopped them again every minute or two
till those flintocks and floogles were beat black and blue.
But they just wouldn’t leave till that mooch McFloo sung
a rock-a-bye ballad with only one lung.
Then they leapt and they lithered until they were gung.
Now McGerhard McFloo only shoos with his tongue!
This is one I wrote a while ago. Hope that is kosher??? Certainly, it is nonsensical:For the W3 Prompt: Nonsense Poem
To see more nonsense poems or to submit your own, go HERE.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 