Now everyone was counting the seconds
Excited about a new beginning, a new something
What changes were possible
Yet he sat on the couch and sipped his champagne calmly
Every day was his chance to begin anew, to try to right his wrongs
And that allowed him to find peace with himself every night as he went to sleep
Ready to celebrate a new chance, a new resolution, every day. That was worth celebrating
Feasting on some tasty thigh meat
Ernie thought this celebration during Yuletide was the best
As there were so many yummy dishes to choose from
The more unusual the better, of course, to a gastronome like himself
It was for this particular moment that he wrote that silly repetitious song so long ago
Vivid imagery that was in the song focused on each of the dozen dishes that he now partook
And it always made him laugh when he crossed the Veil and heard one of the meat sacks sing it
Lifting another hunk of milkmaid on top of his piece drummer, he hummed “five golden rings…”
Giving those diabolical miniature flakes of metal in their prison
Little shakes with an evil grin on my face
If you hadn’t had crossed the line it wouldn’t have come to this
The trap set, I just sit back with the airhorn and count down
Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. The horn screams through the night
Resulting in you throwing off your covers, releasing the pile of sparkle into your entire everything.
Making so much money on NFTs
It made him think of those old-timers using a printing press
Nowadays, counterfeiting was so old school
The new thing was blockchain where could create money just like the…
Giving all of you so many thanks
It is awesome when you come and look at my poetry
Finding out that I have touched you with my words
That is something I love to unwrap, not just at Christmas, but every day
So once again, thank you!
Varicose veins climbed his legs like a trellis
It had purple blossoms of bruises to give that bit extra artistic something
Nothing he did seemed to help with the aches and pains
Except the thought of even at his age something of beauty was still growing within
Now, now is the time to strike back
Igniting the passions of the oppressed
Giving the darkness a soul of fire and destruction
Hell’s gates have broken, and we are not going back
To our oppressors, flee. We will do more than just go bump in the …
Given how attached he was to her, how he loved her
Letting her go never entered his mind. He wanted to be with her at all times
Under that notion, he physically stuck himself to her
Eventually, his mommy got the cat away from him, but not after lots of scratches. Love was hard.
The enormity of the situation was not lost on Joy.
It made everyone around her pause and take notice of how bad it was getting
Nothing in her life had prepared her for what was to come
Yet the feel of her baby daughter’s hand wrapped around her finger gave her hope.
It was so cold outside, but he preferred to be out here shivering in physical misery
‘Cause she was inside
Eventually, he would have to go back in and suffer the emotional frostbite.
Stories and photos from Scotland
A paper-cut survivor
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Never Short On Words 