Magazine Posts

Wayward the wind,
blowing down the hill.
Have you seen him lately,
the Scarlet Pimpernel.

When I was growing up,
it was no joke,
to be a man
you needed to smoke.

Smoking at school
was not allowed.
Plug tobacco,
could be found.

A small brick,
you could carve,
a "chaw" and place
between your cheek and gum.

A nasty habit,
if you decided to chew,
but with "chaw" in your
mouth, what did you do?

You carried a small can,
so, you could spit.
A disgusting habit,
I must admit.

I never chewed
for I had no chew,
as it stained your teeth,
not just one, but a few.

First it was Merry.
Now it's Happy.
How do I rejoice,
when I feel crappy?

Alone in my room,
wanting a drink.
The water is dripping
in the kitchen sink.

It's odd or funny,
how a mind works,
in finding a way
to avoid life's quirks.

Look for a reason
or a plausible excuse,
just don't get crazy
talking about a Moose.

The only moose
which comes into mind,
is Bullwinkle Moose
and a Rocket J Squirrel find.

One man.
One cause.
Enjoy the season.
Santa Claus.

Well, well, well,
A surprise.
The breakfast, lunch, dinner club,
has been invaded by newcomers.

Ignoring the Inner Sanctum rules,
newcomers invaded the
self-appointed elite status of
sitting in the same chair,
at the same spot, meal after meal.
Supposedly a "by invitation only"
table. The table was also moved a
few feet in the dining room.

A soft shoe shuffle,
off to Buffalo,
when fate interferes,
there is no place to go.

A vertical response to
those who haven't a clue,
when words won't cut it,
so, a fingered gesture will do.

A curl of smoke,
clouds the air.
What say you,
it's your hair.

Must not smoke,
in bed at night,
when fun of your smoking,
is not a delight.

I love hearing
the old songs
of Holidays sung
by a choir.

Tales of those
being sung near a fire
where chestnuts roast,
as we hear Jingle Bells,

old refrains of I'm
Dreaming of a White Christmas,
knowing Santa Claus is coming.
God Bless Yee Merry Gentlemen.

He was born upon a Midnight Clear,
as we heard the Angels sing
on high. Oh, Come All
Yee Faithful to Bethlehem.

Frosty the Snowman, rings true,
with All I Want For Christmas,
is You or My Two Front Teeth,
while Mommy was Kissing Santa Claus.

Then Sadly, "Grandmas Got
Run Over by a Reindeer.
Silent Night, Holy Night.
Noel, Noel, Noel.

Hour after hour,
day by day,
I hear the question,
"What did he say?"

These words are
muttered, again,
"Pardon me,
I don't understand."

A lack of hearing,
seems to be the cause.
Heavy words from
old Santa Claus.

The spirts fly,
high at night.
Some tequila,
will make it right.