I've never been the Queen of Drama,
But the Oxford Comma
Causes me stress, strain, and trauma.
Semi-colons by comparison are easy;
Their rules are far less breezy.
No need to get all ill, upset, or queasy.
Periods don't take a whole lot of thought.
They never make me even mildly distraught,
Happily aiding my characters, dialogue, and plot.
What about exclamation points, the curious might ask.
Are they apt to lead you to the flask?
No. Not even those are a chore, job, or task.
Sweet little colons are also not too bad
I use them so seldom; they make me not sad.
And as this poem finds an end, aren't you happy, joyful, and glad?
But comma dilemmas really haunt me a lot.
The nuances of usage I still do not got.
But enough of this silliness, absurdity, and rot.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Don't Be Cross At Spanish Moss
Biking on Jekyll Island one is bound
To see Spanish Moss all around
It's everywhere, everywhere, from sky to ground
It hangs in high branches and falls out of trees
Sometimes it just swings up there, enjoying the breeze
For some reason palm trees are devoid of the stuff
But live oaks? Let me tell you, they can't get enough
What's amazingly terrific?
Spanish Moss is epiphytic
It causes no alarming harm
But only adds disarming charm
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Ode to Champagne
Oh, the horror of it
It happened, it's true
I opened my fridge
And knew I was through
No champagne!
I searched on the shelf
I checked in the door
I went to the cupboard
Hoping to score
No champagne!
I ran to my neighbor's
And told her the troubley
I asked if I might borrow
A cupful of bubbly
No champagne!
She searched in her fridge
And double-checked in the door
She went to her cupboard
Hoping to score
No champagne!
Continuing my quest
I hopped into my car
Surely a supply of the stuff
Couldn't be far?
No champagne!
To the market I hastened
I cut through the crowds
Made a beeline for the wine cooler
And shouted out loud
Champagne!
I bought a dozen bottles
There's a discount that way
And ignoring the disapproving glances
Stepped up to pay
Champagne!
The refrigerator replenished
My cupboard completed
I raised up my goblet
And this solemn vow repeated
Champagne!
Life is too short
So I shall take a firm stand
To always keep a champagne stash
Chilled and on hand
It happened, it's true
I opened my fridge
And knew I was through
No champagne!
I searched on the shelf
I checked in the door
I went to the cupboard
Hoping to score
No champagne!
I ran to my neighbor's
And told her the troubley
I asked if I might borrow
A cupful of bubbly
No champagne!
She searched in her fridge
And double-checked in the door
She went to her cupboard
Hoping to score
No champagne!
Continuing my quest
I hopped into my car
Surely a supply of the stuff
Couldn't be far?
No champagne!
To the market I hastened
I cut through the crowds
Made a beeline for the wine cooler
And shouted out loud
Champagne!
I bought a dozen bottles
There's a discount that way
And ignoring the disapproving glances
Stepped up to pay
Champagne!
The refrigerator replenished
My cupboard completed
I raised up my goblet
And this solemn vow repeated
Champagne!
Life is too short
So I shall take a firm stand
To always keep a champagne stash
Chilled and on hand
Sunday, March 4, 2012
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!
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!
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