By the Book

By the Book

Pulling His Own Weight

A Limericked Degree on an Old M.V.P.

A once famous player named Moe

Was sporting a new sort of glow.

He crowed at his wife

To blame for his strife

Instead of the stuff he would stow.

His dental appointments raised dread,

And so did his middle-aged spread.

Guess that’s the result

From joining the cult

Of eating and drinking in bed.

c2010 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Posted for a variety of prompts:

Easy Street Prompts (“reading in bed”)

Meme Express (“dental”)

Simply Snickers (“crow,” “glow” and “stow”)

Feel free to follow on Google Plus and Twitter. Please visit my Amazon author page as well.

“S” is for . . . Someday?

Posted for a variety of prompts:

ABC Wednesday (“S” is for . . . )

Easy Street Prompts (“scene of the crime”)

Heads or Tails (“anything you can do with your hands”)

Mad Kane (“dental”)

Three Word Wednesday (“fury,” “guilt,” and “thankful”)

Wordless Wednesday – Everyday (photo/s)

Writer’s Island (“describe the future’)

“S” is for . . . Someday?

Scene of the Crime –

Limericks Late on an Endless Wait

 

Feeling somewhat temperamental,

Seeking benefits for dental –

“Take a number and a seat,”

Now my afternoon’s complete.

Could they rule it accidental?

 

Fury tempts my hands, I swear.

Maybe I’ll pull out my hair.

Moments stall like frozen cars;

Others stare in numb faux pas,

As I slump in plastic chair.

 

Finally, fed up to the hilt,

Pent up patience, overspilt,

I peek at the number chart,

Suddenly, a work of art.

Match my ticket, filled with guilt.

 

Thankful, I approach the desk,

Mugging for a shot grotesque.

“Here’s your I.D. card,” he quips,

As I think, “Do they take tips?”

But I stroll out, statuesque.

 

Managed health care: go for broke.

Just the wait did stress provoke.

Pent up in a crowded room,

Reeking germs like bad perfume –

That’s the ultimate sick joke.

c2008 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Super-Sized Supper

The weekend is here, and what does that mean? If you have a busy family like mine, the weekend means fast-food requests. Will we give in to the dietary demands this week?

Super-Sized Supper - A Rhyming Mood for More Fast Food

Make mine a jumbo, mega-max!
I'm dying to have a big fat attack.
Pour on the grease, the salt and the fat,
And toss extra french fries in with all that.

Chicken formed in little lumps.
Hear my heart? It barely thumps!
Milk-free shakes in every flavor;
Sign my new insurance waiver.

For just a quarter, call your cashiers,
And shorten my life by about twenty years.
c2008 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Feel free to follow on Google Plus and Twitter. Please visit my Amazon author page as well.

Toned Out - Rhyming Offhand on Music That's Canned

Having just returned from the dentist today, I have a sudden urge to share this poem. Somehow, it seems timely! Read on, and you will soon see what I mean.

Toned Out

This music makes my molars hurt,
Envisioning a crisp white shirt,
A misting spray, cold air to spurt,
The drill approaching, "Pain alert!"

I faintly recognize the song,
Although the voice does not belong,
A rap, turned mellow; it's just wrong.
Someone ought to get the gong!

We're climbing to the seventh floor,
For ladies wear and shoes galore,
With background melodies a-roar
That make me want to run next door.

I cannot stand one more refrain,
My incisors are racked with pain.
I'll call my dentist, and complain
For auditory Novocain!

Want to read more? Click here for "Toned Out." You can also subscribe to this author's content, so you won't miss a single post.