You Didn't Want the Photograph, Did You?

Cheeky Missy



Reexamining the mere three inches of space between the microwave and the edge of the counter, I began to wonder how on earth the salad tray had balanced seemingly fine in the first place.
 
I Guess I Wasna Thinking?!
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMLXIX)
 
 
There's nothing like the salad which sans bail
Was scraped off of the filthy floor cuz sense
Forebore to toss my lunch and lo, defense
Was elsewhere when I rose to check in frail
Excuse the thermostat, cuz freezing'd fail
To please me, and my lunch went SPLAT.  Ah, whence?
But gather all by hand and don't starve hence.
If Monday thought of trouble, snow in tour
And icy rain meant slippry, driving too
A challenge mair than wont, wherefore bestir
More by the tossing of my lunch?  Where to?
Oh LORD, do be Thou magnified. Tis poor
To thus complain. Bring us with joy to You.
 
06Jan25a
 
Seems so much more time has passed.
 
I Can't Believe It's ONLY Monday
 
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMLXX)
 
 
How subtly night falls, gloaming blue as hence
I freeze to death for what? a paycheck?!  They'll
Laugh me to scorn, and I shall erm, avail
Me how, since tis the case? Oh sweet pretense!
How dost thou look now all is faux joy? Whence?
Now cozend by the darkness, food in frail
Excuse et up, I'll munch on fruitcake, hail
The LORD's great mercies that ne'er fail for sense.
Oh! I rose early, put the kettle fer
A pot of Barry's on and with both to
Accomp'ny, had my morning cuppa. Were
There else, made porridge, omelet, roasted too
Potatoes thick sliced for late breakfast. Stir
Hope now the day is fled: LORD, I wait You.
 
06Jan25b
  • Author: Chic George (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 13th, 2025 17:02
  • Comment from author about the poem: One moment you're enjoying your meal, thankfully, albeit freezing to death, a split second later you're chagrined and staring down at the dirty, salt encrusted floor mat where your delicious salad lies, dumbfounded. And yet, I'm actually still having fun! Enjoy?!
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 9
  • Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments +

Comments4

  • sorenbarrett

    Too cold and hungry a most sad condition and to have fun despite this is a higher level. Very nice Chic

  • Tristan Robert Lange

    Well done Missy! Glad you are still having fun despite it! Only way to roll, in my humble opinion. Another couple of mighty fine sonnet offerings, my friend. Well done! 🌹🌹

  • Neville


    Re: 1) You can toss a caber and you can beat an egg .. but you can't beat a tossed salad now can ya folks, let's be honest .. Re: 2) Absolutely bloomin brilliant & couldn't be battered nor bettered .. You just made me ache for the day I might be able to burn my white coat and draw the pension I have been working towards for goodness knows how long .. its another 👍👍Tuesday from me ma'am .. Neville

    • Cheeky Missy

      But, but, I'd tossed it already with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, garlic salt, and spices, until every bite seemed delectable, trying to ignore the irresistibly necessary dirt and salt added after it went SPLAT. You're too fun though. Thank you so very, very much for your kind comment! I missed you and am glad you're back.

    • Tom Dylan

      Doh! I feel your pain. I was once enjoying a lovely kebab when I knocked my drink over. I panicked and jumped to get the drink, flinging my kebab everywhere! I was gutted! 🙂

      • Cheeky Missy

        Thank you so, so very much, Tom! Yikes! I do so hope you managed to ransom your drink, seeing you accidentally sacrificed the kebab for the same? Thank you again very much!



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