We tried something different this year
A Thanksgiving day buffet
I really like the leftovers though
So I lined my pockets with cellophane

To justify my actions
As I stood in line
With the twenty bucks I was paying  
Would a little take out be such a crime

Being a master of illusion
I pointed and said is that Santa Claus
While everyone was looking
I filled my back pockets with cranberry sauce

Things were running rather smoothly
As we moved along
I was stuffing everything from giblets to gravy down my drawers
As if there was nothing wrong

With tomorrows lunch now in my pockets
I went back to the table to dine
Forgetting the cranberry sauce in my rear as I sat
I squirted the lady behind me in the eye

Her husband jumped quickly into action
He was a mountain of a man
We'll just call him Everest
I didn't have time to catch his name

He picked me up and started shaking
That's when my stuffing's came flying out
Tomorrows meal went everywhere
Splattering the entire dining crowed

There was quite a ruckus
As we chased around the restaurant
It's going to be hard to get my leftovers back
Now that I've lost my air of nonchalant

As we were knocking over tables
I got the idea to grab peoples plates
Not wanting to be a spoiler of the holidays
Out the door I hollered back

Have a Happy Thanksgiving Day!

I just bought a turkey
In dire need of tenderize
Also a quick summer thaw
As this chick's as cold as ice

Must have froze it in the tundra as
I dive deep into the internet
Where it's got me wondering
Why I myself didn't think of this

It says to tie up both it's legs
With a nylon stringy thingy
Hey! Get that out your head!
This ain't nothing *****!

Hook the turkey to the bumper
And take it for a ride
I watched it from my rear view
And mirror on the side

I watched it twirl and tumble
I watched it twist and shout
I watched it as it changed its shape
From inside into out

I thought I heard it gobble
As it bounced itself along
Checking progress at every red light
Tenderized...yes, but not yet thawed

The roads must be colder this year
Than at first I thought
I hop back into my jalopy
For a few more jaunts around the block

I make it back to my place
Thinking all is perfect all is well
Untie the turkey, if that's what it is
It's now a little hard to tell

Now with that part of the preparation done
With the turkey and I safe back home
I plop it into the waiting oven
And gently turn it on

Here we are a few hours later
As the conversations and good times begin
Sitting around the dinner table
My guests all marvel at my hen

There's only one slight question
And they asked me if I knew
I reply...why yes that is white meat
It's just a tad bit bruised

dating a writer
is like guessing the weather.
you think you know what you'll get,
but you never do.

you never know
because

she'll create a hero
from your weaknesses

and she'll write a great character,
from every last flaw.

she'll create a thousand plots  
from your worst nightmares.

she'll take every last thing you hate
and create something you'll love.

she'll turn your anger
into confessions of adoration,

and she'll make you,
everything you're not.

but worst of all,
she'll leave you wondering-
is it you she's in love with,
or things she's created from you?

but here's the beauty of it:

if you date a writer,
you'll never die.

Seems like
Words are failing
Maybe We should use our mouths
For other things

How about kissing?
Right there
On that part of my naval
As I brush your hair

Maybe I'll let out a little sigh
As you linger there for a while
Look up and smile
Pretty eyes got me gazing

Words may be failing but
There's other ways to speak
Your hands gently trailing
got my body feeling Weak

Self control startin to slip
Better watch my mouth
As I bite your lip
It stings
But not the way words do
No need for censorship

This mouths being used for other things

Maybe to let out a laugh,a little grin
As you make your move
To help me relax and
Leave your mark on my skin

Raising the heat
Got me craving!
Tongues may be wagging
In the morning
But ours are for tasting

So what do you say?

Mmm don't speak.
My hearts racing
Legs shaking
As you play your mouth piece

Sighhhh

And I
Might just have to pull you in tight
Might just have to have you all night
But don't worry
It's our lil secret, I won't say a thing

Words may have failed us
But mouths don't need words
To do wonderous things

;)

Well as the title suggests it is not a chase
Quite possibly because running’s out of the question
And also they are not even involved in a race
No, not even the hint of an exercise session.

The story is as follows: if I can put it clear
The day started slowly, they were in hiding
He did not want to, as usual, interfere
And generally the atmosphere was
subsiding.

That was until she burst in through the door.
With a worried frown on her floury face.
noticed the Duck had his nose to the floor
And heard the chicks were not in the nesting place.

“Maybe they’ve hatched and walked off
”The Pig thought it obvious and straightforward.
The Hen spluttered a nervous type of cough
And out from his hiding place shot a worried bird.

“Oh dear, oh dear,said the Hen we will help you”
The Duck sprang into action  straightaway.
The Pig was saying no and had gone blue
Which was turning to an angry twitchy grey.

The Duck was pelting down the lane searching
Calling, enticing but no chicks were found.
Under his breath he was grunting
And heard the Pig suggesting they had drowned.

He slapped the Pig on his wig and frowned
He put his wing around the Hen and dried her tears.
Assured her that the chicks would be safe and sound
And said the Pig had only added to her fears.

He shot off again at a greater speed than before
His instinct came into play good and proper
Found the chicks and what is more
The Hen has adopted her star, her show stopper

The Duck a hero, was splashed on the news
The Pig hid behind the paper for a week
Where he had more than a little snooze
And the Duck’s goose chase was a winning streak.

The man on TV comes on and says
Zombies might come let's protect our heads
For they eat brains and flesh
I just smile and munch another egg

Laughing at him preach to all
About the hordes of zombies
Taking over the mall
Wearing wellies and summer hats
Eating Mr Jones from the potpourri stall

My laughter drowns out this bleak news
As down the lanes and through the mews
The living dead march right on
Singing the words of the dead soul song

Tears fall down my cheeks
With laughter now that just peeks
Catching my breath there's a knock at the door
Holy hell the zombies want more
Agggggghhhhggg

Write?
I write!
I write more.
I continue to write.
Then I even write more.
Soon I can't stop writing more.
So I get more paper and write.
Forthwith, I've written myself an eight word poem.

We need to talk to strangers,
If we wish to make new friends,
Get a date, find a mate,
A partner til our end.
My children were the strangest ones
Ever I did meet;
So I introduced myself to them
As they arrived, toute suite!
Some strangers become family,
Some life-long friends;
Some become your colleages,
Team mates and your kids.
And some become your enemies,
And that's good to know;
But we need to talk to strangers
Whether friend or foe.
The alternative is you're by yourself,
And that's okay too -
But you shouldn't talk to yourself,
And answer yourself too.