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Wednesday, Oct. 1, 2014

Missin' Minnie

Posted Thursday, December 27, 2007, at 12:06 AM

Apologies go to the loyals herein,

for my absence. Can't tell you just how long it's been.

But the season upon us demands so much time,

and there aren't enough hours in the day to call mine.

I decked out the tree and got it all lighted,

plugged in too many and it nearly ignited.

Placed the nativity figures in place,

then let a granddaughter play in its space.

Before I could grab her, she'd taken the sheep,

and claimed that they'd bitten the Baby in sleep,

So Jesus was pulled from the manger and taken

for treatment of injuries before he awakened.

The wise men fell victim as well to the ox,

and were carefully bandaged with one of her sox.

Some things should stay sacred, I know, and I tried,

But something within me just roared deep inside.

Then to shop was my mission; I answered the call.

My GPS only directs to the mall.

I shopped till my blisters had ones of their own.

I closed down the stores and then headed for home.

But not before witnessing throngs in the aisles,

and absent were greetings and holiday smiles.

Replaced by the wailing and grinding of teeth,

of toddlers who begged to have all within reach.

To Wal-Mart, to Penny's, to Macy's and Kohls,

to Target and Goody's and finally to Lowes.

I've contended with babies who screamed at the sight

of a big bearded man showing little delight.

"Just sit for a second," their mothers would plea,

"and smile for the camera. It's easy, you'll see."

"Don't talk to strangers," we warn them each day,

then throw 'em on Santa and cautiously say,

"Just sit there and tell him your wishes in case,

and don't leave a puddle and don't make a face.

Some of them don't and some of them do,

and most of their wishes will never come true.

And then came the candy, the fudge and the cakes,

almost as good as what Cake Lady makes.

The ham and the turkey and dressing were served,

and then I decided to sign up at Curves.

But that will someday be a blog of its own,

till then I'm OD'ing on leftovers at home.

Now for all of my bloggers, as I fade out of sight,

Happy New Year to all and to all a goodnight.


Comments
Showing comments in chronological order
[Show most recent comments first]

Your finest poem, yet no mention

of the rogue Sean,and his impure intention.

To make our Minnie quake and sigh,

he of martini fame with her drink he will ply.

Strong spirits,naughty Scottish whispers,how much can dear Minnie take?

Will her hot flashes cause his ego to bake?

What will become of our heroine Minnie?

Will she break his heart,too (poor Sean,what a ninny!)

-- Posted by Yellow Rose of Essex on Thu, Dec 27, 2007, at 6:25 PM

Minnie, dear, you are back IN STYLE!!!!

If I weren't so tired, I'd add a few poetic lines of my own......but I can't even spell right now.........

Hold my place in line until later.....

-- Posted by goat lady on Thu, Dec 27, 2007, at 6:29 PM

Christmas strewn over the floor,

Leftovers behind the fridge door.

We all ate too much,

And now we're in dutch,

Because we wiped out the store.

*

Our glorious leader is back,

We welcome her leadership knack.

With elegant taste,

She's never in haste.

At giving advice she's no quack!

-- Posted by goat lady on Sat, Dec 29, 2007, at 7:41 PM

I do love limericks!

-- Posted by goat lady on Sat, Dec 29, 2007, at 7:42 PM

Though Minnie explained her absence to all

With tales of hard work and trips to the mall

We secretly hope that our leader has lied

And was sunning herself with "Sean" by her side

She may deny and give an excuse

But we bet she ran off and really let loose

We're glad she is back... all joking aside

But how does she explain that tan on her hide?

-- Posted by letseatcake633 on Sat, Dec 29, 2007, at 9:18 PM
Minne O'Pausal's response:
A confession, I fear, appears due,

to Cake and the Goat Lady too.

You were right from the start,

like a knife to the heart,

I have to admit that it's true.

'Twas dear Sean that has kept my at bay,

with that double 0-7 delay.

Should have heeded alert,

from that pretty pink shirt,

and believed all the things that they say.

A "tan on the hide," and "Scotch whispers," besides...

How much can we readers abide?

Our own lives are drab,

And we do hate to crab,

But take us along on the ride!

-- Posted by goat lady on Sun, Dec 30, 2007, at 9:25 AM

Great poetry ladies,

I bow to the Master,

I'd try to compete,

but my rhyme's a disaster.

-- Posted by Ducky on Fri, Jan 4, 2008, at 1:26 PM


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