Whose Muse

This is nothing
But a lame excuse
But blame this week’s stupor
On my difficult muse
Whatever I tried
My muse did refuse
To offer anything that
Might remotely amuse

Here it is, Sunday night
And my poem is really bad
Considering my standards
This is truly sad!
Maybe these next few days
My muse will turn to glad
And what I end up writing
Will somehow turn out rad

All rights reserved

 

 

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

All Rights Reserved

Shine On, Super Moon

A late night stroll on Charleston Battery
Curious to see the lunar perigee

Less scientific folks called it a super moon
I hear it won’t happen again anytime soon

Too bad, since it was a downright lovely sight
And a real fun way to spend Saturday night

The winds and waves in Charleston Bay
Were also worth noting, and I must say

Thanks, Man in the Moon, for smiling on us all
The whole city at the waterfront, having a ball

My Moody Muse

When my muse comes down with a horrid blight

The writing goes wrong with no end in sight

Every word, thought, and sentence turns out trite

Leaving me feeling oh so contrite

And wondering if an end will appear for my impossible plight

But when the writing goes right

My muse alights

To amazing new heights

Of creative delights

Then the sun shines bright

And my mood takes flight!