PIFFLE DINGER – An earlier ode

MONDAY NIGHT’S POEM

With all the boo boos and yoo hoos,

to-do’s, who-are-you’s, e-mail news.

Poetry Month and broken hips,

cherry blossoms and weather dips,

serve up a poem, slightly rare

with metaphors, if you should dare.

Oh, there’ll be some deep; otherwise

we’ll aim for paucity of lies.

This ev’ry Tuesday writing thing

plays bonkers with the yan of ying.

Should you want me to be quiet now

I’ll heed your wishes with a bow.

 

 

Pumpkim carving:

Ray Villafane, http://villafanestudios.co

 

 

 

(Obviously written earlier)

 

 

About Nan Mykel

At 79, I was just about to stop keeping a journal, but that felt like accepting that growth was finished. I don't want to be finished, yet! I'm 80 now, and struggling to communicate with you, if you'll come and set awhile. P.S. My how time flies! I'm 82 now.
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