Thus Far--A Poem About My Day

My mind starting rhyming before I'd even left the house this morning, so I knew this outing was going to have to be told via my very elementary poem-writing skills.

Running late to Salt Lake
Puffy eyes, tights on thighs.
Freeway speeds, then wrong-turn woes.
Construction site, which way to go?


Parking Garage, P-1, P-4,
Take a picture, remember more.


Walking fast in Sunday shoes,
Not my favorite thing to do.


Primary Training, had to go.
Assembly Hall, I love it so.


Lots of women there did meet,
Clouds of perfume not a treat.


Many notes, I did take.
Much to learn, it was great.


The bench was hard, 2 hours is long.
But we stood and sang a song.


Afterward, I wandered round.
Taking pictures of the grounds.


It was nice, though skies were grey.
I'll go back another day.


Nearly killed, in freeway lane.
A mattress flew, could have caused pain.
Hand of God, I know saved me.
From meeting my mortality.
Said prayer of thanks and shook my head.
It doesn't take much to make us dead.


Listened to Rush for Claudia's sake,
What a jerk, himself did make.


Wendy's drive thru, for my lunch.
Was ravenous, and had to munch.


Home sweet home in comfy clothes,
Computer time and sweet repose.

The End.

**Do you ever find yourself rhyming?
Have you ever posted a silly poem?
Have you been to this training before?
Have you had a near-death experience on the freeway?**

Monday Morning--A Poem

Ah Monday morning, you've come around again.
The laundry has accumulated,
the dust has settled and the floors have crumbs,
but all of that will have to wait until tomorrow
because Mondays are spoken for.

Oh Seven Peaks, you're a flawed and fleshy place.
You have claimed your space on the calendar,
thus other things have moved. I say "no" to
the cleaning, "no" to any meetings, and "no" to
other invitations because we are booked.

**What happens on your Mondays?**

Out of Sorts--A Poem

My head hurts.
It's a rainy day.
The fissure on my forehead is large.
I don't feel like doing anything.
I'm hungry.
I'm not going to book club tonight.
What's up with the universe?

Except, look what I made today! This is attempt #2 at Marc's Take-Out Challenge.

Mother's Day Rant--A Poem

Why, oh why must we celebrate Mother's Day?
It is the opposite of restful for any mother I know.
If each mother must celebrate her mother,
then the work never ends.
Husbands are foolish and rarely get the point.
Some even think they're wives are not their mothers,
and don't end up recognizing their greatness.
Every mother, good or not, carries the weight of the world.
So thanks for nothing, you holiday inventor you,
for giving us a tizzy-filled, guilt-inducing weekend
that often leads to disappointment.
What were you thinking?
I just want to take a nap.

Clothes Shopping--A Poem

3 hours of clothes shopping,
only 1 shirt bought.
@#$%!
Why must it be so hard?
Even when I go to stores that carry clothes that fit me
I still don't have success.
The sleeves are too short,
the necklines too low,
many shirt styles look like maternity clothes on my potato-shaped self
and must be avoided so as not to invite "the question."
What's a girl to do?
I was in and out of so many dressing rooms,
which were all too hot with their slated doors and full-length mirrors.
They mock me so.
I am feeling frumptastic and shiny.
Not good.

Happy Birthday Jenny!!!

My Cough...A Poem

I often have a cough.
Like a special winter friend.
The kind that will not leave, no matter what I do.
She (oh yes, it's a she) harassed me last night.
She woke me from my sleep, moved me to the couch, rattled my brain, scratched my throat and made a bizarre noise in-between breaths.
She is obnoxious, powerful, and loud.
She laughs in the face of the Ugh relief.
How dare she?
I think I hate her.

One Good Nostril...A Poem

I have a cold.
I hardly ever get colds.
I don't like colds.
I have one working nostril right now.
It likes to take turns between dripping and clogging.
I'm not keen on either.
Tissues are my friend, I need to get some softer ones.
I have dry eyes and clogged sinuses.
My head could feel better.
Coughing is a nuisance.
Sneezing is a mess.
I'm now a mouth breather.
Ugh.