Tag Archives: RDP

Dieting and the Art of Romance

Photo by i yunmai on unsplash

Dieting and the Art of Romance

There’s a scintilla of a chance that I might still be kissed.
His arm around my shoulder, his hand gripping my wrist.
If it were to happen, I just might not take flight,
but claim that kiss with open lips, as though it were my right.
Just in case, I think I might just start on a new diet
so if the chance arises, I will have the nerve to try it.

Prompt words for today are scintilla, diet, flight, wrist.

Culinary Timing

We reached Corfu this morning and are now 8 hours ahead of my usual Central Standard Time in Mexico.  This can wreak havoc with both maintaining contact with friends back home, sleep and appetite. This morning as I ate breakfast at what would have been midnight back home, I wrote a poem that had nothing to do with this subject. Unfortunately, I unthinkingly ripped it up and threw it away later after I used the same paper to record our scores for a dice game, so here is a substitute on the subject of what big time changes do to the psyche as well as the appetite.

Culinary Timing

I’m in trouble with reason.  My time’s taken flight.
I don’t know the difference between day and night.
My head can accept we’re eight hours ahead,
though my body prefers to stay longer abed.


The diet they serve us now we’ve reached Corfu

agitates me with a troubling snafu.
When it’s breakfast time here, I am taken aback,
for my palate’s desirous of a midnight snack.

Time’s not in contention. I know I am wrong.
As they change the time, I should go along.
All day, it’s my stomach that keeps on resisting.
Shrimp cocktail? I’d rather they desist insisting.

Whatever they’re serving is not what I wish.
I’m ready for pancakes. They want to serve fish.
The meal I desire is not what they’re makin’.
They want to serve lobster when I prefer bacon.

I truly like visiting different places,
seeing strange sites and different faces.
Yet, I may give up traveling merely because
they cannot keep time the way that it was!

 

 

 

Words for today are agitate, diet, flight, contentious and trouble.

Ode to the Shipboard Buffet

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Ode to the Shipboard Buffet

In the hierarchy of buffets, spaghetti is the king
no matter what competing dishes they may bring
to grace the laden, groaning boards: rich soups and shrimp and cheeses.
They advocate for salads, but somehow no Caesar pleases
half as much as pasta, well-laden with rich sauce:
ground beef, basil and parmesan, tinged with just a toss
of fennel and oregano. It simply has no peer.
We gobble it with cabernet, chianti or a beer.
We leave the smorgasbord serene, replete and full and sated.
Our emptiness has been fulfilled, our appetites abated.
No hunger pangs outlast thin noodles topped with smashed tomatoes.
Spaghetti beats out hamburgers and crisp French fried potatoes.
It beats out cured Virginia  ham. It beats filet mignon.
It beats twice-baked potatoes and things put thereupon.
I’m sorely tempted by ice cream and pastries, cookies, tarts,
but such things aren’t exclusive of main courses that are starts.
A plate piled with spaghetti deserves a proper ending.
Just plan when loading up your plate. Dessert is also pending!

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Words for the day are serene, advocate, hierarchy, outlast and spaghetti.

Grain of Salt

Grain of Salt

His comment was acerbic, but I’m gonna let it slide.
I know he doesn’t feel so vitriolic deep inside.
A little piss and vinegar can serve to enrich life
so long as it’s not coming from your husband or your wife!

Oops. I somehow missed RDP’s word yesterday, so I’m using it today. Words of the day are acerbic, enrich and slide. None of the other prompts are ready yet, but I gotta roll. I think I’m messed up by the fact that I’m 7 hours ahead of my usual time zone.

Defection

 

photo by Donald Giannatti on Unsplash, with permission

Defection

Her endless tries to civilize her wild Wyoming grin
and the crooked chipped-off tooth that resided within
did nothing to dispel its authentic cowgirl charm
or its endless talent in working to disarm
any reticent cowboy who thought he would resist it
then ended up admitting that he wished that he had kissed it.
So when at last those lips were kissed, alas it was no drover,
but instead a city boy who won our wild girl over.
And, because they took no chance in winning her affection,
it was in fact the cowboys at fault for her defection.

 

Prompt words for today are acerbic, authentic, endless, civilize and grin.

Once Again

 

Once Again

The grass is always greener in another town or state.
Perhaps being a newbie she can start with a clean slate.
She’ll improve her deportment and for sure she will begin
to dress much more sedately. She’ll be neat as a pin.
She’ll insure her own wellbeing by befriending saner folk.
No more life of the party. No more a standing joke.
The other times she pulled up stakes were only practice for
this time, when she swore to them, before she slammed the door,
that she’d make something of herself. They should just wait and see.
This time she’d fall much farther from the family tree.
We hope that she is right and that she doesn’t change her mind
And ask along the self she keeps trying to leave behind.

 

Prompt words today are grass, newbie, wellbeing, improve and pin.

Nightly Ritual

Nightly Ritual

A fleeting shadow on the wall, what do you make of that?
Another and another joins this swirling mass of bat.
Fortuitous destruction, they swarm across the lake.
What an impressive undulating constant stream they make.
They go to eat mosquitos in the farther fields they roam,
leaving only guano here closer to their home.
The wellbeing they foster, I fear is far afield.
Here at home there’s not a single benefit  they yield.
They sleep by day then hurry off on nightly winged weavings,
leaving me, with broom and scrub brush, dealing with their leavings.

Prompt words  today are fortuitous, shadow, wellbeing, destruction and bat.
Also, for Granny’s BOTD.