Back to lips
“Damn” I said
Wink to reflection
Now off to bed
Back to lips
“Damn” I said
Wink to reflection
Now off to bed
There ain’t no Book of Life
at the Pearly Gates.
Instead, God sniffs your life potpourri
and (Bam!) He knows your fate.
You see, all your thoughts and actions
from the kind to oh-so-evil
dry into life potpourri
ready for Divine retrieval.
Angels flank him at His sides
(with espresso beans in hand),
cleansing his nasal palate
prevents a misreading of “bland!”
If God wrinkles his nose at your bowl
(or worse!) recoils in disgust:
your plans for everlasting bliss
perchance are a bit robust.
And if God should have a cold that day
and his olfactory sense is missing.
You’ll join the queue in Purgatory
till His nose has had some fixing.
His Saints potpourri is in His sock drawer.
His Angels in sachets.
His do-gooders are on His mantel.
His devotees by His ashtray.
Mrs. Clause put Santa on a diet
but now he’s sitting in a cell.
His christmas eve mission this year…well,
did not really go so well.
Section 2 (breaking & entering)
was his Christmas morning crime.
With no rosey cheeks or stomach round
he wasn’t recognized!
Thud! Santa flew down the chimney
(his belly used to provide some friction)
This year presents weren’t on his mind
… cupboard raiding was his mission!
Spotting the milk and cookies
he raced to them in a flash.
Soon only crumbs and drops were left
……but Santa wanted the stash!
He would have gotten away with it
if after the cookies he did scury.
It was the sound of pots and pans that night
that awoke the Jones in a fury.
“At 3am he stood in my kitchen,
a skinny Santa eatting my squid!
He even brought his own apron that said:
“Being naughty saves me a trip!””
So Santa has a mugshot now
But his regrets are zero, null!
His grin has a message clear
“at least my tummy’s nice and full.”
Oh the virus has infected you!
It’s rampant and you’re teeming!
To cure yourself? Only one way!
Look at life as though your dreaming
I think I’ll write poetry for life
without care of what minds think.
Afterall should you not like it now
…. perhaps you will after a drink.
Be not the green beans, mash or niblet corn
grab the wheel of life and honk that horn!
There’s an elephant in the bathtub
(the drains clogged with peanut shells once more).
Theres a chinchilla in the bedroom
who only answers to “senor.”
There’s a hippo counting spin cycles
of a sparrow in the dryer
(he’s searching for his sparrow pants
that have a 2 for 1 worm buffet flyer).
There’s a penguin in the freezer
waiting for the ice box to set.
There’s pack of lions in the study
learning to play russian roulette.
There are 10 rats wearing spoons as helmuts
riding down the garbage chute.
There’s a german owl getting elocution lessons
“no no! It’s not “voot”…its “hoot!”
There’s a giraffe in the dining room
sneering: “uh, such taste nouveau!”
There’s a zoo keeper looking into empty cells
and thinking one thing: “uh oh.”
New dentist open for business
no appointment is required.
All you need to do is let him know
what time each day you’re tired.
He’ll pop by close to bedtime
as he does with all his patients
He’ll yawn 10 times right in your face
(since yawing is contagious!).
On cue as you yawn back to him
be sure to open wide,
he’ll clean your teeth at lightning speed
and take a look inside.
Should you fall alseep on him
and chomp down on his tools
I’m afraid his fees go up for his
(as does cleaning your drool).
An extra fee is charged as well
for cleaning as you sleep-walk.
And for an extra hundred flat
he’ll record what you sleep -talk!
He’s only had one complaint thus far
“In defense, she does look fetching”
Cindy Loo might disagree:
(he attached her braces to her bedding!)
No matter your opinion though
(and most do think his skills are splendid)
To your complaint he’ll always say:
“I’m tooth fairy recommended!”
If distance makes the heart grow fonder
do you look at yours & think “go wander”
I’m calling to discuss your duck
I’ve heard its the best in town.
But I’m not convinced.. not one bit
so take these instructions down.
Before I dine in 2 weeks time I like
to learn your pre cooking technique.
Not from your chef or maitre’d
but from your duck’s own beak!
Please start him on an English course
excelerated written and verbal.
I won’t tolerate “it can’t be done”
I just met turkish speaking gerbal!
If his answer is unsavory
I’m guessing my palette he won’t thrill.
So he can join me for lunch
(…he’ll be handling the bill).
Come one, come all
Don’t be timid!
Ride the tunnel of love
Buy here your ticket!
I took a seat
and to my delight
tall dark and handsome
was to my right!
But once in the tunnel
there was a gaze on my face.
Uh oh! Tall dark and handsome
had been swiftly replaced!
A pair of thick lenses
stared back at me.
Acne reading science journal
had moved up from row 3!
I considered jumping overboard
while in tunnel’s cave.
“I don’t like bunsen burners!!!”
in my mind I did engrave.
But cupid I knew had struck me
when I had the thought disgraceful
“I’d really like to learn more about …
the perodic table!”
The tunnel had me as a victim
as we moved out from its shelter.
I touched his arm, batted my eyes and asked:
“Is that real polyester?”
So consider this a warning
on this love inducing ride.
Its best to always have a say
on who you sit beside.
from bed to couch
can be prevented by
a censored mouth
***Hi everyone! I will be in Phuket for work so won’t be posting this week….rhyme to you soon!
Cupid Archery School
now open for admissions.
Bow and arrow are provided.
Clothes strictly are forbidden!
Sharp eyesight is required
as is good hand eye coordination!
(While the school wishes the couple well
we don’t want a repeat of last year’s goat / horse situation!).
Applicants must be girth generous
(slim cupids are unsightly!).
Please address your application
to Headmaster Aphrodite.
Should you be rejected
we offer remedial love 101 at night.
NB: Many of our rejected candidates
have launched successful dating sites.
is a movement chock full of slackers.
How can you truly worship the legume…
if you eat animal crackers!!?
Being a wife is easy.
The rules are stark and bare:
Repeat what you just have said
and be not attached to his hair.
I have a theory.
It’s no tall tale!
I’m sure the postbox
reads my mail!
I put in a letter
heard a pen uncap
then: “that’s better!”
I mailed a sweater
to Cousin Doug
heard paper rip
then “…a little snug!”
I’m sure I saw him
blush 1/2 shade redder!
I think he was
reading my love letter!
And for some reason
I now have a subscription
to “Postbox Digest:
I’m not quite sure
on what to do next.
But one things for sure:
no mailing cheques!
To keep Granny rocking at good tempo
serve her tea and cake alfresco.
Just ensure the tea’s decaf
(Whispers:) I’m sure “why” you dont’ have to ask…
Don’t you remember the headline from last year’s Telegraph?
Caffeine feuled Granny rocks down to Earth’s Mantle!!
Red light doesn’t really mean stop.
It means proceed
(just don’t get caught!)
Yellow light? Ha!
Silly light citrus!
Its point is just to break up
colour sheme christmas!
Oh it has two messages key!
Step on the gas
and plant a tree.
— (interrupt all of a sudden)–
“I’m sorry but where may I ask
is your unsubscribe button?