Salty like hot dogs (and tears). Sweet like marmalade (and life).
Row-row-row a boat
It’s good exercise
Since Santa struggles with his weight
This option might be wise
#stupidpoemswewritetogetinourpostaday
#leftovercollagefromChristmas
#whichismoreimportantsavingfaceorpostingeveryday
#clearlynotsavingface
#writeyourownstupidpoemtogowiththispicture
#goaheadIdareyou
My hair was blonde when I was small
But it grew dark as I grew tall
My mother had the same thing too —
Blonde that darkened as she grew
’tis a funny thing — this natural blonde —
Some maintain, and don’t respond
To aging with six shades of brown
But old age gives its hoary crown
To all in silvery grayish white
Tresses giving up the fight
To stay the hue of summer sun
And let winter overrun
Vanity, you try my hair
But you won’t win ’cause I don’t care
In response to Daily Prompt: Rhyme
Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Alphabet with a Twist – B
An original Sea Shanty
(1) Captain Hopkins had a schooner
Eliza was her name
Come hear the story of her wreck
“tis such a crying shame
She sailed out from Hyannis
In April 1899
Heavy seas when she departed
Though the morrow’s forecast fine
(2) Captain Hopkins had a worthy crew
Of 13 men with him
Many were related,
Brothers, cousins, kin —
Eliza had been prosperous
So the Captain laid aside
Money to soon build a house
For his sons and his bride
(3) Eliza made a quick run
Through Nantucket sound
The Great Round Shoal lightship
They sailed right around
The night was clear, but a relic
Of the Northwest gale that day
Made the seas a little choppy
Still it did not cause delay
(4) Course was set for Great Rip
Also called Nantucket Shoals
Captain Hopkins knew his way
All around these fishing holes
Two men were on watch
When they hit the Rose and Crown
A miscalculated shoal
That brought their lady down
(Chorus)
Hey, there, Cap’n Hopkins!
Climb aboard wi’ me!
But – No-ho, he shouted,
The dory won’t survive this sea
Hey, there, Cap’n Hopkins!
There’s room for all aboard!
But – No-ho, he shouted.
And the pleas were all ignored.
(5) A wave swept o’er Eliza
From her stem to stern
She was broken with one pound
The surf was all a-churn
While some men grabbed the rigging
The dory was prepared
To launch for this emergency
That their lives would be spared
(Chorus)
(6) A wave swept the dory
Right off the deck
Three men fought to right her
And keep her by the wreck
“Come on board,” they shouted
To the remaining crew
Cap’n, he refused to go
And the others followed suit.
(Chorus)
(7) The dory, she was stove in —
Two men rowed, the other bailed
And they stayed right near Eliza
To save the crew, but failed —
The onboard crew refused them
“That dory is too small
Dawn will be here soon
We’ll be seen and save-d all.”
(Chorus)
(8) The men in the dory
Stayed the whole night through
Listening, hoping, praying
To know what they should do
But when dawn’s rays illuminated
Here’s what met their eyes:
The schooner gone to pieces
And nobody survived.
(Chorus)
(9)They rowed that broken dory
Through the Rose and Crown
Bailing water constantly
Till they came in sight of town
And so these three were rescued:
Nickerson, Miller, Doane,
But oh, dear Captain Hopkins –
Why didn’t you come home?
(Chorus)
*****
Based on the true story of my great-grandfather, a fishing boat captain who died at age 37, going down with his schooner, the Eliza.
My mum and dad, they met the queen.
(Do I sound Bri-ish? sayin’ “mum,” I mean?)
He wore full-dress uniform, squeaky clean.
A dashing couple, right?
Her dress was made of gold lamé –
Her shoes were gold, or so they say –
And with opera gloves, they were on their way
To a very memorable night.
They saved the invite all this time
(The name’s erased — prevent identity crime)
And that is the end of this pitiful rhyme.
So “Q” is done now. Quite.
In a hurry this morning — but don’t want to fall behind in my A to Z postings.
A ditty has been running through my head since accompanying my father for his echocardiogram.
The screen looked similar to ones I knew from pregnancy ultrasounds, but no baby..
I had written a more thoughtful piece about a visit to the cardiologist several months ago.
Then I turned the ditty in my head into a bad poem that I posted for a couple of days. Subscribers would have seen it. (And, really, I’m so sorry!)
It was so cheesy that I took it down.
I’d much rather you read “The Cardiologist.”
There are strange things said, or at least so I’ve read,
By the neighbors up north of U. S.
It’s more than just “-eh”. What I’m trying to say
Is there’s lingo I need to address.
They have one dollar loonies and two dollar toonies,
And couches are called Chesterfields;
A kilometre’s a click, a hoser’s a hick,
And a parkade is for parking your wheels.
’tis really no trouble to understand double-double-
One coffee – two sugars, two creams.
Electricity is hydro. Donair is a gyro.
Washroom means bathroom, it seems.
Poutine, I have heard, means fries, gravy and curds,
And while that sounds kind of yucky to me
I could stomach that dish – hey, it might be delish!
But I was shocked that they switched out my zee.
Just why do I feel that zee’s a big deal?
It is ’cause my name begins there.
I say “zee as in zebra” when I’m spelling to people
How to write it – a simple affair.
But still they say Daengle, instead of Zaengle
For them, I say “zee”, they hear “dee.”
Zed — it could help there, so listeners would not err
When distinguishing the good letter zee.
Yes, they use different words, these Canadian birds.
Like commotions are called kerfuffles.
When you awaken, they may serve you back-bacon,
And they carry knapsacks, not duffles.
They buy Timbits at Timmies. (Do they use sprinkles or jimmies?)
But, O Canada, this needs to be said —
Even though you say decal* — hey, what the heck, I’ll
Say thank you for making zee zed!
pronounced “deck-ul”
Hot Dogs and Marmalade 