Cheeky Missy
Really? Chopped Liver, Eh?!
But of course.
Yes, All On a Tuesday Morning
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXXXVII)
In bed, at last, three hours ere sunrise, frail
And feeling ill by morning, Tigger thence
With Peter keeping quiet, checking hence
From time to time my progress, which detail?
I split my half-n-half with them t\'avail
\'Fore bedding down, and they\'ve had that for sense
Ere I am up late. Craft our breakfast, whence
Once served, how they each help themselves to scale.
Canadian bacon not their style as twere,
Each takes a slice of turkey bacon to
Munch on from his plate, mind ye, til in tour
He howls to me oer lacking food anew,
My yoghurt what they\'d lick ere I bestir
A showr, then my plate\'s theirs. LORD, I thank You.
15Jul25a
You know?
At Least It\'s Not Chopped Liver
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXXXVIII)
He does not like the salad kits fr\'intents,
Chopped pieces of whatever that detail
Which he\'s disgusted by. Thus I\'ll avail
Me of the last, the ease of that defense
In these cramped hours of little sleep where sense
Plays hooky like a mercy and sheer bail.
I wanna craft a salad of the tale
Of greens whenas I\'ve time, if only hence.
What was today? Tis well-nigh oer in tour.
And I feel left behind. Oh, what\'s to do?
I glugged tea-lem\'nade to revive me fer
All that how few hours \'go? Yes, coffee too
With cream, yet I\'m fatigued. I miss as twere
The kittens. LORD, return anon, won\'t You?
15Jul25b
Methinks some truly do.
You Want to Put A Cap on That?
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCDXL)
Ah, golden ev\'ning, shadows flirt with whence,
All cast in sheer relief til aught detail
Seems like an image art decks out t\'avail,
The thought of yonder and of wealth, its sense
Not off by any means, cept it seems hence
Mine to enjoy from here, yet have I bail?
Watch shadows laz\'ly grow, the subtle trail
To ev\'ning full with Summer\'s joys fr\'intents.
A package I\'d failed to retrieve in poor
\'Scuse Monday shall be left til Wednesday through
My failure now, unless I thus detour,
Get that, and somehow takes an hour to do
All ere I\'m home, where Peter joins with her
In wanting canned food. Say, LORD, we thank You.
15Jul25c