Boxing Day

Weirdest Christmas ever
Our Charleston ties we are about to sever
The timing of this is anything but clever

Moving on December twenty-six
A stupider date we could not have pixed
My body and brain will need to be fixed

We’re packing up boxes
With fragiles and sockses
Is this one full of heavy rockes?

What was I thinking?
I swear I had not been drinking
That box over there seems to be clinking

Now the bookshelves are done
That’s one victory won
But packing up the kitchen will not be much fun

Tomorrow we tackle the shed
A chore I truly do dread
And through it all the cat clamors to be fed

Christmas Eve will be the final packing
Arranging thing as we are taping and stacking
The holiday spirit I seem to be lacking

The movers will arrive at nine
I sure hope all will be fine
Moving on Boxing day ought to be a crime

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Whimsical Wednesday – BAD, BAD, BAD EBENEZER

Whimsical Wednesdays With Friends is back! And today’s fearless and multi-talented guest poet is my friend and fellow writer, Paula Benson. For the fourth year, Paula and collaborators John Henry and Frank Fusco wrote an original musical for their church’s drama ministry. This year’s production, “Once Upon a Christmastime,” was adapted from “A Christmas Carol.” The opening number was a take off on “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.” The picture from the production is by Rob Sprankle.

Take it away, Paula…

CROWD (sings):
Bad, bad, bad Ebenezer
Nobody likes him
And you wouldn’t either!
Bad, bad, bad Ebenezer
He only cares about his wealth.

SCROOGE (speaks):
I’m bad and don’t forget it.
I’m bad and don’t regret it.

CROWD (sings):
Bad, bad, bad Ebenezer
Don’t know whether
He’s more rat or weasel
Bad, bad, bad Ebenezer
He gets his money all by stealth.

SCROOGE (speaks):
I’m bad and don’t forget it.
I’m bad and don’t regret it.

CROWD (sings):
Bad, bad, bad Ebenezer
He grabs for money
Like a mad old geezer.
Bad, bad, bad Ebenezer
He’s always mean about . . .
He always schemes about . . .
And then, he dreams about his wealth!

“BAD, BAD, BAD EBENEZER”
Lyrics and Music by Paula G. Benson
From: ONCE UPON A CHRISTMASTIME
A Christmas Musical based on Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol

Copyright 2012 by the St. Paul’s Players,
St. Paul’s Evangelical Lutheran Church, Columbia, SC
Used by permission by the copyright owner.

All Further Rights Reserved

Chili Unleashed

Hubby made a pot of chili last night
Watching him roast hot peppers is a glorious sight
He did not set fire to anything this time, saving me a fright

I love hubby’s cooking, especially his chili
So hot and spicy, it makes me rather silly
His ingredient list is most definitely NOT willy-nilly

The mad scientist in him comes out in the kitchen
To see what he’ll think of next, I am now a-itchin’
When your hubby likes to cook, there’s no cause for bitchin’

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My Apologies to Otis

I’m not sitting on the dock of the bay
But this will certainly do
I have a ninth-floor hotel room
With a lovely ocean view

I left my home in Carolina
For a weekend in Daytona, F. L.
Hubby has a conference
And tagging along sounded swell

A flock of pelicans just flew by
And the tide is rolling in
I think I’ll rent a bicycle
And take it for a spin

Hours resting my bones
Or walking in the morning sun
Roaming away from home
Can be a lot of fun

But now the weekend’s ending
I remember I cannot stay
I wave goodbye to the pelicans
And the tide is rolling away

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Talking Turkey: An Ode to Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving recipe options today we explore
Perusing food magazines and internet resources galore
To my gourmet-minded hubby I humbly implore
Let’s keep it simple–remember less is really more
And the last time we got carried away we dropped the turkey on the floor

He argues no guest that year headed for the door
In fact, he says, he recollects that for sure
Those people liked the bird so much they clamored for more, more, more, more!

The fiasco that’s become the stuff of legend and lore
Was the year I ordered a free-range jobby, like, two weeks before
But when I went to pick it up at the health-food store
That fourteen pound turkey which I thought I would score
Was only a seven-pounder, and boy did I roar
I’m feeding six people! I need more, more, more more!

With a bird that small our Thanksgiving would have failed
So with much arguing and ado, over the butcher I prevailed
And at least a ten pound turkey I finally nailed
Thus, along with all our side dishes, through the holiday we sailed
Indeed, our sweet potato pie that year was heralded and hailed
So even with that measly little turkey our meal was not derailed

Oh, and while I’ve been distracted by this poem and not looking
Hubby’s been planning what we’ll be cooking
Trust me, a restaurant reservation we need not be booking

Happy Thanksgiving

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The Insomnia Blues

2am and I’m awake
Anxiety and dread I cannot shake

2am and I can’t sleep
From the rest of the world I hear not a peep

2am: Is that the bewitching hour?
Maybe I should get up and step in the shower

2am and I’m turning and tossing
Is this what I get for forgetting to flossing?

2am and the cat’s watching me
Maybe I should get up and at least try to pee

2am and Hubby sleeps soundly
Sometimes I get jealous, profoundly, yes profoundly

2am and the room is too hot
I kick in frustration at all the blankets I got

2am and now it is freezing
Oh great! Now I’m having a fit of some sneezing

2am and I give up on resting
I’ll work on my novel and consider it a blessing.

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Whimsical Wednesday – Betty Builds a Better Mousetrap

I always knew my cat Betty was whimsical. But a poet, too? She shocked me yesterday when she tapped out this ditty, her very own Ode to Halloween. She hopes it puts fear into the hearts of rodents everywhere…

Betty Builds a Better Mousetrap

Building a better mousetrap?
I’m your gal!
When mice venture near me
I give them hell

This here’s my costume
I love Halloween
When mice venture near me
I make them scream

Mice don’t scream
Is that what you say?
But when mice venture near me
They do rue the day

My vet is having a costume contest
Six-months’ flea care’s the prize
So my people made me this costume
And I tried it on for size

But I do not need
No costume such as this
Cuz’ when mice venture near me
I go hiss, hiss, hiss, hiss

That’s not the worst of it
For those nasty creatures
Cuz’ when mice venture near me
They learn my other features

That’s claws and teeth
And a quick-stepping bounce
When mice venture near me
I promise I’ll pounce!

Used by permission of the cat.
All further rights Reserved

Writer’s Block Begone!

I never put much stock
In that thing called writer’s block

At my computer I would sit
And down to business I would git

In no time whatsoever
I wrote paragraphs so clever

Chapter after chapter
Until the happily ever after

But lately, what can I say?
My busy life gets in the way

My creative juices seem spent
I wonder where they went

But determined I remain
Since it’s writing that keeps me sane

I will get busy tomorrow
And the words are bound to follow

At my keyboard I will tappity-tap-tap
And I won’t be writing crap

A new novel I will beget
It’s destined to be my best yet!

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Whimsical Wednesday: On Friendship

My whimsical guest today is the fantastic mystery author Polly Iyer! Take it away Polly…

ON FRIENDSHIP

When Webster wrote his dictionary,
and Roget wrote his Thesaurus,
they had in mind to educate,
in a way so’s not to bore us.

They wrote on Music, Art and Beauty,
each harder to define,
on Hate and Joy and Motherhood,
on Thou and Bread and Wine.

The definition so hard for me,
and one I can’t defend,
is how they tend to miss the point,
when describing what’s a friend.

The meaning of that simple word,
they wrote more than one way.
but I’ve my own description
to relay without delay.

A friend is tried and true of heart,
a platonic kind of love.
One who takes you as you are,
and who you’d fart in front of.

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Polly Iyer

When Cindy asked me for a poem, I thought back to one I wrote a while back. I’ve been blessed to have many friends and even more blessed to have those friendships span decades. My book Murder Déjà vu has, of course, a murder and a mystery, but it also has a deep friendship―one that is forged between two men in prison. Though my poem is on the light side, the friendship in the book is made of darker stuff. How much would you sacrifice for a friend? Would you give your life? Would you take one?

Polly Iyer is the author of four mystery/suspense novels on Amazon: HOOKED, InSight, MIND GAMES, AND MURDER DÉJÀ VU.

You can read more about her books on her website at http://PollyIyer.com