Old age––
Can’t escape it.
We grumble about it,
but the alternative, for sure,
is worse.
The dVerse Poets prompt was to write a cinquain: 2-4-6-8-2.
See how others responded to the prompt HERE.
Old age––
Can’t escape it.
We grumble about it,
but the alternative, for sure,
is worse.
The dVerse Poets prompt was to write a cinquain: 2-4-6-8-2.
See how others responded to the prompt HERE.
jdbphoto
Spider on the ceiling, legs evenly spread round,
I can’t help but wonder what keeps you ceiling-bound.
Have you little suction cups welded to each foot,
and if so, has nature adequately put
each one on this spider far above my bed
so it will not disconnect and land upon my head?
For MVB the prompt is “Ceiling.”
Here’s To The Bride
The groom’s family was titled and a bit anachronistic.
So when they saw the bride, I fear they went a bit ballistic.
Instead of white she wore a dress of scarlet oddly draped.
The mother of the groom grew faint. Her husband merely gaped.
She wore something archaic instead of merely old—
her grandma’s feather boa—a bridal statement bold.
Around her neck, a python, and her arms were densely bangled.
Her veil pinned to a tractor hat of satin, oddly-angled.
The brim turned back as though she were an umpire at a game.
In short, the bride’s ensemble was anything but lame.
As she hip-hopped down the aisle to a tune by Kanye West,
the groom stood fondly watching her in morning coat and vest.
Her lipstick blue, her bustier was borrowed and conditional
on return to its owner in a manner most traditional.
To complete her fashion statement, her combat boots were blue,
and if you’ve paid attention, you could guess that they were new!
Her bouquet was fresh dandelions bound up with some chives.
She held it in one hand and with the other, gave high fives
to friends all up the aisle as she jerked her way on by.
The groom’s mom gave a shudder and his father gave a sigh.
So did this modern wedding forsake the antiquated
with customs much less stuffy, less predictable and dated.
The wedding fare was tacos, Cuban sandwiches and chips,
jelly beans and donuts, crudités and dips.
No caviar or salmon. Just ribs and Tater Tots.
The toasts to bride and groom were made with Jello shots.
The wedding cake was chocolate with custard between layers.
Good wishes voiced by ministers, gurus and namaste’ers.
In place of rice the bride and groom were showered with quinoa.
In short, it was a wedding to rival mardi gras!
The SOCS prompt is “toast.”
Today’s Fibbing Friday prompts are:
1. Why did the chicken cross the road? Because it was being egged on to do so.
2. Why are eggs oval in shape? Because they are formed in a Mama Chicken’s ovalries.
3. Who said Humpty Dumpty was an egg? I don’t know, but he said it in September or some other day in the fall.
4. What is fumigate? A scandal involving a Chinese restaurant famous for its egg fu young.
5. What is a wuss? Past tense of iss.
6. What is a spotter? An un-housetrained puppy.
7. What is the speed of light? Certainly a lot faster than the speed of heavy.
8. What is a hangover? The amount of bottom on three sides of an occupied bar stool.
9. What is a grammy? Grampy’s wife
10.What is lycra? Question asked of a best male friend by an Australian male who wants to flirt with a girl he suspects his friend likes, too.–– “Like ‘er, aye?”––(Did I spoil it by over-explaining?)
For Fibbing Friday, the task at hand is:
1. What is a saga? A menopausal-aged woman without a bra.
2. What is a synopsis? What a female police detective is called by her brother.
3. What is a dialect? A misspelled redial on the phone.
4. What is a goblin? A small amount.
5. What is a pinstripe? A line drawn by a fountain pen.
6. What is a catapult? The fur coat of a feline.
7. What is a mousse? A French Bullwinkle.
8. What is meant by bona fide? What the credentials of a orthopedist certify him to be.
9. What is a sally? Mrs. Fields’ daughter.
10. What is a harem? A stalling utterance by a rabbit.
Her hems are crooked, her seams all puff,
and if that is not enough,
her fabric’s cheap, her colors clash.
So though her duds cost lots of cash
(because she calls it haute couture)
I fear she is an amateur.
For the Word of the Day challenge, the prompt is “Amateur.”
Short Adventure
dog
woman
all
alone
computer
window
rubber
bone
eye-lock
pleading
invitation
one
thrown
bone
brings
jubilation
further
begging
is
for
naught
a
second
later
fun
forgot
For dVerse Poets Open Link Night
Game of Cards
I would pay a pretty tuppence
to invest in his comeuppance.
His smug assurance, his galling preening.
He’s like a babe in need of weaning,
sucking at the teat of fame.
What other mortal needs his name
written on towers around the world?
He’s Ozymandias, stone lip curled
in cruel splendor, sure in his power
reasserted on every tower.
But remember, as he counts each coup,
how all the mighty have fallen, too.
False knights wear armor prone to tarnish.
His Midas touch will lose its varnish.
We’ll laud the day when he’ll be dumped—
That day when he’ll be over-trumped!
The dVerse prompt is Power.
Judy Jamison just jabbed Joe’s jingling jodhpurs.
“Jeez!” Joe jumped jerkily—justifiably jittery.
“Just joking, Jumpin’ Joe!” joyful Judy jabbered jejunely.
Joe’s justifiable joyless judgment jarred Judy’s jubilation.
Joyful June joint juggling junket journey just jinxed!
Jumpin’ jiminy—justifiably, jetlagged Joe just jettisoned Judy!
A Quadrille is a 44 word poem. The prompt for the Quadrille Challenge on dVerse Poets is “jabber.” Image by Zyana on Unsplash.