My poem this week’s a little late
Because I couldn’t concentrate
Busy looking at the weather
I couldn’t get my thoughts together
This weekend: Memorial Day
Is supposed to be for summer play
But in Vermont it’s been so cold
That on Saturday it was so bold
As to snow!
So there you go
My concentration was destroyed
But rather than to be annoyed
I decided it was kind of nice
A bit of winter, at least a slice
It’s warming up again today
Back to what you expect in May

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No Deadlines, Please

To write fast
Would be a blast
But based on my history, and my past
I get on a roll, but it does not last

I write slow
That’s how the words flow
Sometimes it makes me rather low
But that’s just how these things go

Ignoring time
And my own deadlines
I sit and worry, and away do pine
To get the phrasing perfect and sublime

No deadlines
No, I am not inclined
To schedule writing to specific times
And that’s the end of this here rhyme

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Vermont on the Horizon

It is May, and so that means
I’m figuring out my Vermont schemes

The lake is thawed, our shack is calling
So I tell Hubby, let’s not be stalling

We’ll pack up the car with all our loot
Hubby will plan our two-day route

We can’t go ‘till the coast is clear
By that I mean no frost-warning fear

Like tonight, it will be twenty-seven degrees
The shack has no heat, and I don’t like to freeze

The pipes will freeze, too, if too soon we arrive
And so we postpone that very long drive

Memorial Day should be a good time
Spring comes late to Vermont, but is always sublime

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