Fab Four Fiftieth

Some news last week
Took me way back
Memories of these four
I surely do not lack

I was a young child
When they arrived
Sad that right now
Only two have survived

Fifty years ago
The Beatles invaded
I’d give them A plusses
If they were graded

To their songs I danced
With my big sisters
We loved the 45’s
Of the Fab Four misters

Memories of which
Puts a smile on my face
So in my poetic repertoire
The Beatles get a place

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Stormy Weather

Driving in the driving rain
Was a huge and big fat pain

Especially annoying
I didn’t know where I was going

And of course is was dark
I would have rather stopped and park

But I was expected at this event
An invitation I was sent

And indeed I wanted to go
Oh well, at least it didn’t snow

I made it there in one piece
But the rain never did cease

I got back in my car stalwart
And prepared in the storm to depart

Oh great, we now had fog
But I got a topic for this week’s blog

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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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Salute to William Gilbert

The Pirates of Penzance I did go to see
Gilbert and Sullivan is a definite guarantee
For nonsense to reign and let logic get set free
Just the thing to bring me happiness and glee

Gilbert, the master, could always find a rhyme
For any word or situation, he did it every time
Out of every muddle, mishap, and hill the hero had to climb
Because a sad ending would really be a crime

The stories are ridiculous, the characters are trite
But Mr. Gilbert was never ever any too uptight
To describe every silly saga as a perilous plight
Much to my sheer and thoroughly entertained delight

The silliest stanzas get repeated and repeated
Never, ever, ever would they ever be deleted
Since we the audience would then feel rather cheated
For the show for which we were staying seated

In comparison my own poems are almost somewhat serious
Although I try to make each one extremely cheerious
I could write until my eyes were bloodshot and blearious
And never come up with something quite so downright delirious

A Premiere Performance

Abelard and Heloise: The Musical
The concept is rather quizzical
I mean, what in tarnation?
Their love affair ended in castration

Now that I have your attention
Perhaps I ought to mention
I teach history at a community college
And of medieval things have some knowledge

In the Twelfth Century Abelard taught Latin lit
And Heloise, his star student, would sit
And listen to his brilliance hour upon hour
Until he got her pregnant and things suddenly went sour

Here’s where the castration thing comes into play
Her Uncle Fulbert said Abelard should rue the day
When he seduced Heloise so young and innocent
And into monasteries the ill-fated lovers went

The Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris now holds their remains
And me, a medieval historian and a tad bit insane
Visited them on Christmas day a long time ago
And last night I went to see their musical show

Abelard’s calamities are not for the faint of heart
But setting them to lyre music provides a good start
Odd-shaped bongos, tambourines, and an instrument I know not
For a donation at the door, I sure got a lot.