When I was young
I could stay up all night
And the next day
Not look half a fright
When I was young
I could climb mountains
Now I go to the park
And stroll by the fountains
When I was young
My clothes all fit right
But nowadays everything
Seems a bit tight
When I was young
Tequila shots I could drink
But now one glass of wine
And straight I can’t think
But being over fifty
Does have its joys
The parties I attend
Have much, much less noise
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My time lately I have been frittering
Because I spend it all on twittering
Tweeting I guess is the proper word
At first I found it rather absurd
But it ‘s a hoot and a blast, and now I like it
So much so that I can’t seem to quit
My novel needs writing and there’s dishes to do
Just one more tweet I say, and then I’ll be through
And don’t get me started on my follower quest
I’ll reach 10,000, and then maybe rest
140 characters to say something new
Yep. I’m addicted, I admit it, it’s true
@cbmysteries is the handle I’m using
Come on by if followers you’re choosing
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A shoe you might say
Doesn’t make a good planter
Well then, I tell you
Take a trip to Atlanta
You’ll see orchids growing
In stiletto shoes
A fantastical sight
To ward off the blues
The show’s only there
For a short time
But the orchid house itself
Is truly sublime
Where, you ask
Can I see this show?
The Botanical Gardens
So now you know
And while you’re there
Check out the whole place
Lots of great plants
In each possible space
I got lots of ideas
Of things I can do
And yes, but of course
I’ll put dirt in a shoe
And fill it with something
But an orchid likely not
I have a green thumb
But with orchids I rot
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A poem about weather
Oh, what a bore
But all those cold temps
I did most abhor
When winter lingered
And lingered some more
But now it does feel
Like spring has begun
So venturing outside
Can actually be fun
When it comes to spring fever
I am second to none
And with spring having sprung
You know what that says?
Summer cannot be
Very too far aways
And that is the season
That gets my most praise!
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For this week’s poem a simple quiz
Do you know who Mister Geisel is?
I’ll give you some clues, although I doubt
You won’t be able to figure it out
He was born yesterday a long time ago
And when he died it was a great blow
Anapestic tetrameter is what he did
I loved his stuff when I was a kid
He counted fish and told me their colors
His imagination was like no others
Speaking of colors, he considered green
A reasonable color for eggs to be seen
His elephant had really good ears
Surely you know what the pachyderm hears?
An impish feline in a tall chapeau
By now I think you have to know
But I will offer one more clue
Then I promise we will be through
His Christmas story included a Grinch
See, I told you this quiz would be a cinch
Happy Birthday one day late
To Dr. Seuss. I think you were great.
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For my poem for my blog
I will write about fog
It rolled in last night
Quite a magical sight
Hubby went to sleep
But watch I did keep
Out the window I looked
‘Cuz on fog I am hooked
The street light’s eerie aura
I myself could not ignora
On my imagination’s insistence
I gazed off into the distance
All misty and gray
The fog lingered til day
Darn! But now it’s lifting
And my mood it is shifting
Less dreamy and hazy
I can no longer be lazy
A bright sunny day forecasted
The fog was fun while it lasted
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How did this happen?
I do not know
But computers they come
And computers they go
A pink one, a grey one,
And also two black
For useless computers
Our home does not lack
Obsolescence
or the memory is lacking
What to do with them?
Our brains we are wracking
They all work
But not well enough
They accomplish some,
But not all of our stuff
And wires and cables?
Don’t let me begin
Boxes full of this junk
I simply can’t win
What’s good and what’s trash
Do not ask me
Get rid of it all!
To hubby I plea
But easier said
and harder it’s done
since tossing what’s important
wouldn’t be fun
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Hip, hip hooray
Our indoor garden begins today
For a long time, we’ve wanted one
And in our new place, we have lots of sun
Some cactus plants is how we will start
We want easy, since we’re not very smart
Cacti like dry and lots of neglect
To novices like us, that means perfect
Cast Iron plants we also will use
Because, you guessed it, they thrive on abuse
We might try some stuff a bit more fragile
But probably not for a very long while
We have lots of pots and other things we need
And with a little luck, our plants might succeed.
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In the morning when I’m still in bed
Betty the Cat sits down on my head
Thus telling me she wants to be fed
And if I keep sleeping and show little care
Betty the Cat starts licking my hair
In our breakfast time struggles she thinks this is fair
The hair-thing to me seems weird, indeed
But Betty the Cat does have her needs
And so I get up and dish out her feed
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Moved yesterday, and the bed
Has yet to arrive
So we’re sleeping on a futon mattress
I think we will survive
I may be a little crazy
Okay, so make that a lot
But I kinda like sleeping on the floor
It’s like camping, but then it’s not
Betty the cat likes it also
She is purring next to me
As long as she’s got a soft blanket
That is all she needs
Hubby’s a little bigger than us
This morning he says he is sore
His hip fell off the edge last night
For a mattress he needs a bit more
The bed arrives tomorrow
Tables, and chairs, and a couch
We’ll settle in more normally then
And Hubby can stop saying ouch.
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