Xcuse Me (When gym rats fall flat)

He loiters ‘round there at the gym,

And most of us steer clear of him.

I do not even know his name,

But I could tell you of his game.

He wanders idly by each set.

I’ve never seen him break a sweat.

He greets the ladies with a gawk

And stops beside them, making talk.

Today, this fellow crossed the line.

I know I didn’t give him a sign.

He blocked my path and grabbed my arm.

I guess he thought he brimmed with charm.

This move was random, not so wise,

For I go there to exercise.

Not interested in repartee,

I simply went along my way.

Tomorrow he’ll approach one more,

But who such tactics would fall for?

Mere common courtesy dictates:

Leave us alone. Go lift some weights.

c2018 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Image:

Theme art – adapted from public domain image

Still from Chained, 1934

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

Loaded for Beware

This pistol of a friend I’ve found

Will step out with the gun’s resound.

The pack behind, off like a shot,

She pulls the trigger, all she’s got.

She makes her peace, out from the gate,

To run near four in thirty-eight.

And with both barrels firing fine,

She zips right past the finish line.

Though she’s not packing on the street,

You still might say she brings the heat.

c2018 by Linda Ann Nickerson

 

Image:

Theme art – adapted from public domain image

Still from Marnie, 1964

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

Hurting Hinges

My hinges hurt. It must be told.

From head to toe, they stop me cold.

I ran a race,

Might need a brace.

It can’t be that I’m growing old.

Ouch! Ankles, knees, and hips cry out.

If it didn’t take too much, I’d pout.

My back, my hip –

I’ve lost my grip.

Still, battle scars like this add clout.

I’m toast. I’m tired. Overdone.

Like someone shot me with a gun.

I’m fully cooked,

But I’ve been hooked.

When can we do another run?

c2018 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Image:

Theme art – adapted from public domain image

Still from Holiday, 1938

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