Cheeky Missy
Now, Don\'t Quote Me on This--
[It was way too hot a day to cook...we\'d (frozen) cream puffs for dessert.]
Oh, ....Sourdough With Which Cheeses?!
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCVIII)
Come, waken my creative side til whence?
But look upon the choice ingred\'ents trail
To yonder with an eye for what\'d avail
The hunger roused by sheer suggestion\'s sense.
Turns out the cabbage, sausage hash is dense
With flavour after three days, ham\'s detail
The perfect touch. Cold coffee, if in frail
Excuse foregone, can stir a headache hence.
Shall we do up cheese sandwiches in tour
For lunch, cuz Starbucks\' teasing me anew?
Oh! I want cake! Mixt salad and, in poor
Reply, yes, hoagie rolls with turkey, to
Effect our dinner (he reminds me fer
All that we\'d \"brunch\"), oh LORD, let us praise You.
14Mar25a
...meaning, when I\'m half asleep I\'m significantly tamer--but that\'s why you men forever tire women out anyway.
I\'d Rather Slow Reflexes, Thank You.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCIX)
The wafting scents of chicken \'long the trail,
Where I\'m too sleepy yet, conspire from thence
To turn my stomach as I hasten hence
To work oernight, ne hunger \'longside, frail
As all the others eager to avail
Themselves of food or action, Friday\'s sense
Alive elsewhere than in my car fr\'intents.
Besides, I\'ve packed a lunch, should I want bail.
Three lanes of heavy traffic wane as t\'were,
Their foolish sense of was\'t street racing? too
Much for this time, where\'s not my style in tour.
They pull \'longside and match my speed, then do
Not but fall back. My uniform? Is\'t poor
I\'m thankful? LORD, be Thou my refuge: You.
14Mar25b
...know: t\'was from You.
I Guess I Only Know What I Should
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCX)
How lo, a black-capped chick\'-dee\'s call frae thence
(Sweet mem\'ries) lilts as I walk down the trail
In foreign wastes where such joys rarely hail,
Aye haunts the twa blocks to my car, a sense
Of former games in tow, likeas defense,
Til I recall years \'go when t\'would avail
My soul sae close at hand, where that detail
Of apricot trees and home were all. Whence?
Forsooth. I swear I saw him day \'fore, were
They nigh likeas the sparrows, sitting, too,
In silence in the naked bush in tour
Outside my bedroom window. If that\'s true,
What should I know, oh LORD? The mem\'ry\'d stir
But I can\'t find that diary page. Where to???
14Mar25c
...as Thousand Island or even Russian Dressing.
They NEVER Owned Such Things
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCXI)
LIfe IS uncertain: eat dessert first\'d hail
In fact where we\'ve too little milk fr\'intents,
And I am working in the kitchen. Whence,
A bit of milk he murmurs after (frail
As all excuses) is nigh bad, t\'avail
Us two of Oreos, where Reubens hence
Are on the docket, nearly crafted thence,
Cuz I\'ll be busy on the clock sans bail.
My fingers burned from this grand project\'s tour
Of duty, turns out lo, yer parents knew
Jist how to make all things, and you in poor
\'Scuse never kin match up. All that I do
Does not taste half as good as theirs. What were
We \'sposed to do in their shoes? Wait on You.
15Mar25a
...a pure diary page.
Don\'t Ask Me Where I Am Now
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCXII)
The black-capped chick\'-dee\'s call as thence
I\'m back home, leaves the dove on that detail
Flying off where robins scold. Car washed t\'avail,
(I\'ve a subscription), morning young fr\'intents
But fully here, I cannot nap from hence
Ere dawn by now, so should craft breakfast, frail
Though I be on the note of third shift\'s tail.
Ne eggs cuz tis too tight this week. Ah, whence?
Somehow with breakfast hash and porridge\' tour,
I halfway drift off, afternoon sans blue
Heavns wearing lo, the stormy mien as t\'were
Of last night where we waited blackout, to
Be thankful it passed oer with blustring. Stir
Me to craft Reubens, and LORD, I\'d praise You.
15Mar25b
...don\'t look at me.
I Never Did Like Wordsworth\'s Political Work
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCXIII)
Too many years ago the talk to scale
Of \"cell phones\" owned but Blackb\'rrys for intents,
And was a dream of yonder not all thence
Could realize, where the \"cold war\" swore the trail
To any future would be sans aught bail
\'Cept freedom was derailed, the \"commies\" hence
Keen spies who\'d access to our land lines, whence
The talk was of which speeches to avail?
They killed off Kenn\'dy cuz he swore in tour
To tell us all, yea, damned McCarthy too.
But that was \'fore my time. Now all that\'s poor,
I\'ll post online, to find me barred sans cue
Cuz wherefore, eh? Go \"clear yer cache\"?! We were
Such fools to cast off fears. LORD, I\'ll wait You.
15Mar25c