Tag Archives: silly poem

Baker’s Dozen


A dozen fatal flaws forgiven seems to be a fair number to allot to anyone. It’s that thirteenth misdeed that is unforgivable!

Baker’s Dozen

(Only So Much Forgiveness to Go Around)

I forgive you for hogging the covers
and eating the last cookie, too.
I forgive you for doing the crossword
that I was intending to do.

I forgive you for all of the dogs you brought home
that you’ve never walked even once
and for donating genes to our children
that turned them each into a dunce.

I don’t mind your poker night forays
or the damage you do to my car,
or the fact that your minimal salary
really can’t stretch very far.

Your spare tires and the fact that you’re balding
really don’t bother me much.
I’ve grown used to your slobbery kisses,
and the foreplay no more than a clutch.

But there’s one thing that you always do, dear,
that rouses my most  primal scream,
for I had made plans for a tryst with
that last pint of chocolate ice cream!


For dVerse Poets, Forgiveness.

Odd Couple


Odd Couple

She had a nature most erratic
whereas his was mainly static.
She was a girl who liked to rock.
All day he sat and watched the clock.
Few pleasures did he ever find
in his life work’s daily grind.

When they first met, I must confess,
he questioned how she chose to dress.
High heels with socks were not the way
that ladies dressed back in his day.
She was eighteen and he was forty.
She dressed funky. He dressed sporty.

He liked golf. She loved the clubs.
She chewed her fingernails to stubs
worrying about the planet’s fate.
She slept around. He didn’t date
and worried not about emissions
nor those Save the Earth commissions.

What soul who knew them both would guess
they’d ever meet, or even less
imagine that they’d get along—
he with his pipe, her with her bong?
Let’s put them in each other’s way.
See how they’d act. See what they’d say.

She meanders through the park
in the evening, before dark.
He’s walking home from the ninth hole.
She rounds the corner, he crests the knoll.
They meet soon on the walkway path.
They have to pass. You do the math!

She eyes his clubs. He eyes her socks.
Her expression questions, but his mocks.
He doesn’t nod, she doesn’t greet.
If you were wishing they might meet,
you’ll have to write your own romance.
These two as lovers? There’s no chance!!!


Prompt words today were rock and guess. Here are links:


One Rhyme Friday: Rude Awakening


Rude Awakening

I must say that I don’t believe and in fact, I eschew
your variety of reasons for doing what you do:
cutting right in near the front of a lengthy queue,
breaking into conversations never meant for you
or gobbling down two cookies when there are just a few.
All of these rude actions are things that make me rue
the day that you arrived in town and first came into view.
You shuffled ‘cross the dance floor, doing the old soft shoe,
asked if you could have a dance and then commenced to woo.
Oh, if only that was something that I could undo!
I’m tired of your rudeness that you seem to do on cue
whenever there is someone interesting or new
that I’d like to get to know. You just don’t have a clue.
But stuff this in your big mouth, please, and then begin to chew.
You be the ass. You be the monkey. Be the kangaroo.
I no longer want to be the trainer in your little zoo!


Want to try doing a poem that makes use of only one rhyme?  Write one and send me a link to it in my comments.



The Perils of Memory Lane

The Perils of Memory Lane

I’m taking a vacation with my mother and my aunts.
On their sentimental journey, we’ll visit their old haunts.
I’m afraid I have my worries, but I’m hoping all goes well,
and I’m trying my hardest my anxieties to quell.
Our travel plans will take us from the east coast to the plain
of wild South Dakota, and then back home again.

We’re going in September to see the lovely sight
of brilliant autumn colors falling from great height.
Then their favorite Japanese garden will include a bonsai florist

and an attraction of their youth: the Badlands Petrified Forest.
First will be Connecticut to see the falling leaves.
They’ll rain down on our bodies: shoulders, faces, sleeves.

The tiny bonsai gardens will not pose a threat.
When leaflets fall upon my feet, I will not fuss or fret.
Of these stops on our journey, I am not scared at all,
but I worry what will happen this year in the fall
when we tour the petrified forest. Will its trees begin to shed
leaves turned to stones and pebbles that will fall upon my head?

The prompt words today are leaflet, petrified, sentiment and hope.


The Perfectionist

The Perfectionist

Change not a hair of thy fair head if it be for me.
I like you just as you are now from pate to chin to knee.
Your shins, though, are too shinny. Your ankles too well-turned.
Your heels? Shockingly callused. Consider yourself spurned.

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge.

Overheard In the Home for Retired Musicians

Overheard in the Home for Retired Musicians

I’m stymied by your crepitus. Your embouchure’s divine.
If you don’t have your own tune, would you harmonize with mine?
Your tonality is breathtaking, your rhythm right on beat.
Your syncopation’s perfect. I fear I can’t compete.
As we play, our joints keep time. My knees snap, crackle, pop.
If our music were to lead to love, you’d have to be on top!


The prompt words today are crepitus, stymie, breathtaking and embouchure.





When she asked us to sleep over, we had no trepidation,
but this one-night segment of our motoring vacation
was a lapse in judgment we will not soon forget,
for though we are assuredly most deeply in her debt,

we didn’t know the bed she offered came complete with pets
not to mention wild creatures struggling overhead in nets!
We can forgive her for the kitten who just curled up on our bed,
sometimes on the foot of it and sometimes at the head.

The puppy, though mischievous, we grew accustomed to,
only suffering damage to a purse strap and one shoe.
Successful in their recovery, we sealed our luggage up,
opened up our bedroom door and exorcised the pup.

Flipping off the  light, we offered gratitude for rest,
closed our weary eyes and did our very best
to try to get a full night’s sleep, but it was late in coming,
for our next visitation came complete with constant drumming

as various creatures of the night knocked against the netting
hanging down around our bed, we commenced regretting
accepting her generous offer of a free night’s lodging.
We didn’t know the various creatures we’d be dodging.

The monkey we grew used to, but not the kangaroo
who boxed my husband’s earlobes and trod upon my shoe.
The cockatoos and lorikeets slept peaceful through the night,
but in the morning wakened us at the dawn’s first light

with such a loud cacophony that jolted us awake
and luckily allowed us to leave before the snake
slithered  from where it rested, coiled beneath the sheet.
And that was it! That final guest signaled our defeat.

For though we have great gratitude for the invitation,
I cannot overemphasize the complete jubilation
we felt upon exiting that jungle she calls home.
And need we tell you that the next time we choose to roam,

we’ll gladly pay the room rates for a first-class lodgings?
We’re finished with the hassles and the terrors and the dodgings
that come with staying with relatives such as sister Sue
who forgot to warn us we’d be staying in a zoo!!


The prompt words today were hospitality, forgive, recovery and gratitude.