This post is linked to The Mag prompt #115 which is the image above
She bought him in a pet shop for a dollar and a quarter
The lady at the counter said “It says here just add water
Then fertilize and nurture him and grow your perfect man
But it comes with this disclaimer: Most aren’t worth a damn”
This post is linked to The Mag prompt #114 which is the image above.
What joy! At Last! An honorarium!
To read my verse at the aquarium
What angst! What pain! My poems stank!
The performance ended in the tank.
This post is linked to The Mag prompt 112 which is the image above.
Floating eggshell girl
Drifting ‘cross the desert
Clouds a gothic whirl
Meaning is elusive
Artist has a message
What, I can’t be sure
This is a response to Magpie Tales prompt # 60 which is the image above.
Water, water everywhere
And I have hit the skids
My wife is at the day spa
And I’m stuck with the kids
At the time I purchased it
It seemed a clever plan
Harmless little birthday gift
I bought for Mary Ann
I almost had forgotten
(You guys know how that goes)
And when it finally hit me
My poor heart nearly froze
Thank the lord for Mastercard
And thanks for iPads too
All I did was point and click
And bid my cares adieu
Ah, but all the best laid plans
Like mine have gone astray
Raining cats and dogs out there
Kids can’t go out and play
They are into every thing
The house… an awful mess
Noise is just unbearable
And I am in distress
Please come home my Mary Ann
My head’s about to blow
Is it like this every day?
My god, I didn’t know!
I wonder where the ducks go
When the sun goes down at night
Its quack and waddle all day long
While plainly in our sight
They paddle gaily ’round the pond
While always in our view
As if they need an alibi
For what they plan to do
But when it’s dark they disappear
And who knows where they go
I’m sure they must be somewhere
Ah, but where I’d like to know
We know that rabbits burrow
And the wrens head to their nest
But where the ducks go still remains
A mystery at best
Do they check into a cheap motel
And play the TV loud?
Or put on leather jackets
And run with a rowdy crowd?
Do they smoke and drink and party
And hang in sleazy bars?
Or terrorize their neighbors
Stealing hubcaps off of cars?
Go on and laugh, if you see fit
That’s certainly your right
It is, that is, if you know where
The ducks go every night!
This verse is linked to Poets United. Here’s a verse for a poor little guy who ordinarily gets no love.
In the Rocky Mountains high
Where icy peaks impale the sky
Lives a timid little varmint
Known only as the Hoary Marmot*
Like a squirrel, but round and furry
Always in a dreadful hurry
A nibble here, then dart for cover
Danger from above can hover
Up there where the air is thinner
He’s the Eagle’s favorite dinner
Beak and talon aim to harm it
Life’s a bitch for the Hoary Marmot
*Largest of the North American ground squirrels…you’re welcome!
Sometimes, it’s hard to keep the peace among the elements in a line.
My verb and object disagreed
It was a heated fight
I tried my best to mediate
But couldn’t make it right
The harshest struggles in a line
Are often intramural
The verb, you see, was singular
The object being plural
And so I sought an adjective
To help diffuse the fray
“I modify, not mollify”
Was all it had to say
This poem linked to Poets United.