Spring Already, Spring

I like my wool sweaters
Really I do
But by this time of year
You’d think I’d be through

Record cold temps
The weatherman tells me
So of my wool sweaters
I’m not yet set free

I have cotton blouses
And tee-shirts galore
Shucking the heavy stuff
That’s what spring’s for

Grey, beiges, and blacks
I’m so sick of these hues
I’m ready for paisley,
Pinks, and bright blues

Daffodils have blossomed
Robins have appeared
But I’m still wearing wool
Sorry, but that’s weird

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A Poem About Pizza

Pizza is my
Favorite food
I find it delicious
Very good

But here in the south
I know it’s unkind
A decent pizza
Can be hard to find

And as pizzas go
I am discerning
So to bake my own
I have been learning

The sauce I concocted
Is very tasty
On a pre-made dough
That’s not too pasty

With olives and mushrooms
And some type of meat
My homemade pizza
Is rather a treat!

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Ode to The Big Bang Theory

There must be worse
As addictions go
But mine is to
A TV show

On The Big Bang Theory
I am sold
Leonard and Penny
Never get old

I’ve only been watching
For about a year
I’ve missed a lot
But never fear

I have caught up
With re-runs galore
So now I know
All Big Bang lore

I know I’m hooked
I actually cried
When in this season
Mrs. Wolowitz died

Amy Farrah Fowler,
Bernie, Howard, Rog
These characters rock
A comic collage

Some gags are
A bit too crude
And laughing likely
Makes me rude

But laugh I do
At every joke
Let’s face it, Sheldon’s
A wierdly charming bloke

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Emmy or Oscar?

I’d love to put Jessie
Onto a screen
Whether TV or silver
Has yet to be seen

I may be biased
But I really do know
The Cue Ball Mysteries
Would make a great show

The characters are quirky
The dialogue snappy
Many LOL moments
To make people happy

A Cue Ball mini-series
Wouldn’t that be neat?
It would keep every viewer
Glued right to their seat

So hey, TV directors
Why not discover me?
This show will win Emmys
Just wait and see

Or if anyone knows anyone
In movie production
I’d give my right arm
For a friendly introduction

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In Hot Water

Soaking in hot water’s
Supposed to be bad
But when winter weather
Starts making me sad
I have a nice bathub
For which I am glad

I fill the thing up
Every night before bed
And sit down and soak
Till my skin turns all red
So that sleeping with shivers
I don’t need to dread

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Ick

Somewhere recently
I have learned
That too much dairy
Should make me concerned

But in my coffee
I like milk a lot
So I went to the store
And a substitute bought

Coconut milk
It’s just not the same
Compared with cow’s milk
It tastes pretty lame

But I’m trying to keep
An open mind
Next time I’ll try
The vanilla-flavored kind

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The Super Bowl Blues

Super Bowl Sunday
I’m just not the type
To get too wrapped up
In all of the hype

I watch a few ads
And do lots of snacking
But of football itself
My interest is lacking

First down or touchdown?
I really don’t care
Of most every play
I remain unaware

I eat too much junk
My mind starts to wonder
When is the half-time show?
Between chips I’ll ponder

That extravaganza over
And the food almost done
I head off to bed
Not knowing who won

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Thank You, Suzanne Collins

The reader in me
Always feels sorry
When she comes to the end
Of a really good story

The Hunger Games Trilogy
Is one such saga
And of YA novels
I’ve never been gaga

But at every plot
Twist and turn
I read faster and faster
Hoping to learn

What happened next
Then after that, what?
Yep, I’ve become
A Hunger Games nut

But I’ve slowed down
This last little bit
If my favorite characters die
I might have a fit

There are some books
I wish I had written
Of Katniss’s story
I am truly smitten

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