FanStory.com - Things I Think about by pome lover

FanStory.com
"Things I Think about"

Prologue
Things I Think About

By pome lover

For me, the goings-on, today
Consume my thoughts in every way,
And should my writing not reflect
These things for fear you might object

Then, I'd be writing fluff instead
Of all the thoughts piled in my head;
And that is not the reason why
I entered this new Na Po Wri.

After all, what's going on
Will surely affect everyone,
At least, here in my country, where
The "string-pullers" do not play fair.

I can't believe the folks who say
That Covid isn't going away;
People cannot live like this--
Life's simple pleasures being missed

And the constant dictates, too--
What we can and cannot do,
Where we can and cannot go
Hooray for states replying, "no!"

But, this small book has just begun;
I'll lighten up and have some fun
With dialogues t'ween people who
Might make you have a laugh or two.

A poem each day, "off the cuff"
With lots of thoughts, still might be tough
To come up with, quick, for this "book"
I hope my goose I haven't cooked.

Author Notes this will probably turn out to be cathartic for me to a certain extent; at least some of it, but if I can get some thoughts off my chest, then for awhile, I can concentrate on life's humorous moments. There are bound to be some.

Chapter 1
Change of Life

By pome lover

Our life now, is not the life
We had a few short months ago.
Our country, then, a great success,
Has turned into a giant mess:

Our open border is a fright
Our People's House is boarded tight
Our kids have lost a year at school
Our government has no Golden Rule.

China laughs because they know
That Big Tech really runs the show
Meanwhile, behind the scenes, The Swamp
Of Never-Trumpers scheme and romp.

While those of us in this great land
Who twice elected a smart man
Are censored every which "away"
In much of what we do and say.

Social media often does
Cancel what we say because
They can, and no one does a thing
About it--anarchy is king.

The news folk pamper sleepy Joe
And cover up his gaffs and so
To compensate they fall back on
Their favorite "racist lexicon."

And here's the sickest thing of all--
Americans causing our downfall!
Americans who have the best--
Don't value it, they just protest.

Some things I laugh at, when alone
That strike my (weird, but) funny bone;
I also cry in dark of night
So many things are just not right.

Of friends and family there's no doubt
They're what my life is all about,
We try to keep each other strong -
Not think of all the things gone wrong.

So, hopefully, this month-long tome
Of musings by this member, Pome,
Will resonate with some who'll say
That they agree with me. Hooray!

I must add here, that there ARE some,
Who've wished me well, at least, thus far,
And so, I carry on in hopes
That my next words will raise the bar.

Or, at least not irritate
Which would mean I've gone too far,
However, some things must be said;
So, I will hope for even par.

Author Notes and so it goes

Chapter 2
A Verbal Irritation

By pome lover

I think I'd better "subject change; drop politics for now
And talk about a word, misused, that drives me up the wall,
You probably have guessed it and are saying, "Not again!"
But that will not discourage me at all. :)

End-of sentence-prepositions are a big no-no;
Anyone who's known me for a while, remembers that
I get really crazy when I hear news people say,
"That's the news; right now, that's where we're at."

What is so darn difficult about, "That's where we are"?
Or "That is where it is," or "Where are you?"
Here's a simple little trick, and though it is bizarre,
Because it is, it just might stick with you.

Think baseball, and the runner, "AT" has made it 'round to third;
"Sentence' end" is home plate, ump shouts "OUT!"
It happens every time because old At is a slow bird
He never makes it, and that's what this "pome" is all about. :)

Although today, I bet you'll find that people, young and old,
Who end their sentences with "at," most prob'ly never had
An English teacher, who was strict and who would often scold
Her students' lack of grammar, making them feel really bad.

However, once again, I do believe that I'm at fault;
The ending of the title for this little book of mine--
"About"- the word is listed as a preposition, too
And I'd get scolded by her for that, also, I opine.

Isn't that a nifty word? I think it's kinda neat
And if I don't forget it, I will try to use it more.
I think it's fun to pluck old words used in a different time
And maybe opine's usage I'll restore.

Chapter 3
Happy Easter

By pome lover

Easter. Though its message doesn’t change,
Has a very different feel, this year.
Churches, that are open, can’t be full,
Rules, you see, to which we must adhere,

Some think we, on earth, are being taught
A lesson, for the evil that we do,
But, as Jesus rose up from the grave,
We, as patriots, will rise up, too.

Wherever you may be on Easter day,
May you be blessed with family and friends
And pray to God that soon we all will have
Our healthy, happy lives back, once again.

Chapter 4
I Wonder

By pome lover

I wonder what the Pres is doing tonight
He's probably in his basement, way out of sight
His handlers, all are busy, for handling is their right
They're working Sleepy Joe with all of their might.
They have no limitations
They handle situations
They're backed by Soros and the radicals.
I'll tell you what the Pres is doing tonight:
He snores! He snores!

I wonder if the Dems know what lies in store,
I wonder if they know who they voted for
Did they desire Biden or did they just abhor
President Donald Trump and want him out the door?
Well, they are finding ou-out
Big Tech has lots of clou-out
They're getting Socialism and more!
And those who disagree will shor-ortly be
Censored. Censored.

I wonder if Kamala's laughing tonight
She seems to have "laugh-itis" -- she is a fright;
She laughs because she know-ows that it isn't right
To not visit the Border and see-ee the plight
Of all the small illegals
The very small illegals
Who're dropped over the wall by coy-yo-tes
The situation's dire; I think we should fire
The VEEP! The VEEP!

I wonder if it's possible to defund the press
It seems that all they do is create a mess
Because they are so biased, they cau-au-ause distress
We only hear their side which people digest
And that is all they know-ow
Because they never go-o
And check their "facts" to see-ee if they're true
The Left just gives them praise; and probably a raise...
A coup! A coup!

Author Notes You can you tube the song, "I wonder what the king is doing tonight," from the musical, Camelot, with Richard Burton as King Arthur.

Chapter 5
Twenty-two Today

By pome lover

My granddaughter, that precious girl,
Turned twenty-two today.
I can’t believe that she’s that old,
It seems like yesterday

We read, together, in my chair,
Of octopi and whales,
Of Uncle Wiggly, Dr. Seuss,
And Rudyard Kipling’s tales.

She learned to skate, and ride a bike
With skinned elbows and knees
And then before I knew it,
It was: Could I drive, some, please?

Now, she has a Fellowship
In Washington, DC;
She graduates in May, although
I doubt we’ll get to see.

Most probably it’s virtual –
No walk across a stage,
No picture-taking fam'ly—
Still, the turning of the page.

I feel a bit decrepit,
Now that she’s turned twenty-two
And I pray I can be around
To see what she will do.

And just like every grandma
I would love to see her wed
And then produce a replica—
A happy, curly-head.

And her mom and I can spoil her
in a very loving way.
Our little gal turned twenty-two today.

Chapter 6
Prepositions and Me

By pome lover

“Letters from the Future” was a contest on FS
A short flash story, which is fun to do;
Instructions said, it “must be fiction”, and that made me laugh;
“Non-fiction from the future” is an oxymoron, true?

Please, I am not critical, just tickled at the phrase,
I understand what “they” were getting at;
Good grief! I just did what I hate that other people do,
Put “at” at sentence end; imagine that!

I’ll have to say, in that context, it didn’t sound so bad
In fact, it didn’t sound so bad, at all;
There must be some exceptions to the rule (of course there must)
Or my big mouth is headed for a fall.

For instance, if you’re shown a thing, and you are mystified
And you say, “Wow, that’s neat. What is it for?”
How else to ask the question? “For what is it?” sounds contrived,
Speaking English shouldn’t be a chore.

Because it is our language, and a pretty one, I think,
We all should do our best to keep it so;
And just because somebody says it’s fine to end with “at,”
That doesn’t make it proper, (sigh) and so…

I’ve given it some thought and here’s what I have come up with
Although I’m pretty sure that no one really gives a fig,
I’ve prob’ly put you all to sleep for making things so small
Appear to be important and so big. But…

I think a preposition is like wearing shoes or not,
Sometime it’s necessary protocol;
But other times, like at the beach, where it is very hot
It’s either flip-flops or no shoes at all.

And so, I guess with prepositions, I am on the fence
With some accepted use, I’m in denial;
I’ll compromise if sentence-ending with a “prep” makes sense
And if “at” is used properly, I’ll smile.

I’ve worn the subject down to a most irritating nub.
And thankfully, on this, I’ll end my rant;
Tomorrow I will do my best to better use your time
And then again, there is the chance I shan’t.

Author Notes I really do apologize for this one.
I've been planting all day, trying to replace all the dead from the horrible unexpected freeze several weeks ago, and I was listening to the news while fixing supper and the newscaster said, "and that's where we're at," and that set me off. However...
I not only promise to drop the "at" business, but hopefully, my subject matter will be more interesting. Anyway, I'll do my best. Promise.

Chapter 7
Squigglies and Green Pollen

By pome lover

I worked very hard before Easter
Removing all dead flowers and plants.
I thought it’d be lovely when family came
To be outside. Oaks said, “Fat chance.”

And so, prior to the green pollen,
I planned Easter dinner outside.
The weather was gorgeous and on the whole,
I’d replaced most of plants that had died.

My “out back” is deck around swimming pool
And hot tub turned fire pit, because
The “bubbler” for hot tub took water out,
An action not met with applause.

And then, when a bonza idea appeared:
A firepit with cushions around,
I thought friends would gather with wine and cheer
But here is the problem we found:

There’s one step up to the brick border
And a 2 foot step down to the base
And we’re not as young as we once were
And there’s not a rail—just in case.

And so, it’s reserved for the younger set
Whose still-intact knees never creak
And comfortable chairs at a normal height
With soft cushions are what we seek.

Well, anyway, back to my oak trees
Where millions of squigglies reside
They “partner” with pollen inside of them
And cover us if we don’t hide.

So, everything—and I DO mean, everything,
Will have a green film and “brown fuzz”
And I will be having a sneezing fit
And red, runny eyes becuz

Springtime in Texas is showing us
Because of its brief little stay,
It’s doing its best to send everything
In great abundance, our way.

My pool, usually pristine with fountains—
Young cherubs, just spouting away
Will turn a moss green from the pollen
That’s how it would look, Easter day!

But as luck would have it, thank goodness,
I’m ecstatically happy to say
That our Easter lunch came before the oaks
Began their green pollen mayday.

We sat outside – weather was glorious
Flowers were blooming away,
Our Easter mealtime was delightful—
The squigglies began the next day!

A footnote to this little story;
They’re coming down, now, in full force
And I’m hosting our HOA meeting
Outside, ’cause of Covid, of course.

Author Notes I love the color, green, but not in my hair and down my neck.

Chapter 8
Freedom

By pome lover

I don’t know about you
But at the end of day
When I take off my shoes and bra
I almost shout, “HOORAY!”

Author Notes and I'm off to beddie-by.
That was all my brain could come up with tonight.

Chapter 9
The Mail Girl

By pome lover

Yesterday I heard the mail truck coming
I went outside to say hello to Angel;
She’s a young Hispanic girl and friendly
With a ready smile – a darling girl.

She’d been gone for two days and I asked her
If she’d done something fun on her days off,
She hesitated, then she almost whispered,
“No, I learned my brain tumor is back.”

There she sat, this young girl, really lovely
With her life in limbo, making do.
I asked her questions, and her answers made me
Sick inside at what she’s going through.

After she drove over to my neighbor’s
I thought how much for granted that I take
I go along each day, busy and happy
With good health, no terrible heart break.

It was a sort of wake-up call that I should
Make my days more meaningful instead
Of hours spent here at my old computer
I should say some things I’ve left unsaid,

And do some things that I have been postponing
And get my life in order, leave things straight,
And then, with luck, I’ll go on with my living
Until God says, “It’s time. Come on up, Kate.”

Author Notes some of this rhymes and some doesn't for which I apologize

Chapter 10
It's All in the Spellin'

By pome lover

Loretta and Mary Jo, are walking to the check-out line at the grocery store. Newspaper and magazine headlines catch Mary Jo’s eye.

“Loretta, don’t you think that Camilla Harris oughta…"

“It’s Kamella.”

“Kamella, thank you, oughta get herself down to the border and do somethin’? I mean, she’s the VP of this country, and the only thing I ever heard her do is laugh. That is the laughinest woman I ever saw.”

“Well, Mary Jo, laughin’ idn against the law. Yet.”

“Well, she was appointed by the President to go do somethin’ about the goins-on down there and she’s not doin’ it. And on top of that, the President hadn gone down there either. Wait, here comes Estelle. Hey, Estelle, don’t you think Kamella Harris oughta…”

“It’s not Kamella, its Cuhmella.”

“What? You sure?”

“Well, that’s what it sounds like they sayin’ to me. Here come Maizie, let’s ask her. Hey, Maizie, you know the Vice President’s name?”

“Vice President of what?”

The Vice President of the United States of America, who do you think?”

“Oh, you mean that gal that laughs?”

“Yeah. What’s her name?”

“lemme think. It’s the same name as that flower, Cam…something’.”

“You mean, camelia?”

“Yeah. I think that’s it.”

“Loretta, that sound right to you?”

No. I already told you, Mary Jo, it’s….now I’m all confused. You said so many names I forgot what I thought it was. Anyway, you plannin’ on writin’ her a letter, or somethin’?”

“That’s a good idea. I just might do that very thing.”

“Mary Jo, that gal needs you to pay for your groceries. We can talk in the parking lot.
                                                                               ~ ~ ~
“Boy, groceries sure have gotten expensive! I didn’t buy all that much and look at this bill.”

“Well, when you write your letter to the Vice President, why don’t you tell her? Tell her since she’s not doin’ anything about the border crisis, would she put grocery prices back where they were?”

“How can I write her when I don’t even know her name?”

“Just say, Ms Vice President of the USA Harris.”

“Okay. What about an address?”

“Um, put in care of President Joe Biden, the White House. She oughta get it.”

“That ‘in care of’ thingie is…?”

“It looks like a “c” with a slanted line.”

“Yeah, but slanted which way? Left or right?”

“Mary Jo, you take the cake. I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you call her?”

“You crazy? She wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Why not? You’re a very important person. Why, you won last year’s apple pie contest down at the…”

“Ha ha ha. Apple pie contest. That’s funny. Hey, you wanta come to supper? I got all this expensive food…”

Author Notes As anyone on FS who's familiar with some of my posts knows, I love dialogue and usually it's silliness.

Chapter 11
Sleep-Writing

By pome lover

Last night I was writing, and fell sound asleep
With fingers pressed down on the keys
I jolted awake when my telephone rang
To a page full of plus signs and zzzzzzzzzz.

It also appears that before all the zzzzzzzzzzzzzz,
I “zapped” a whole section of text,
So, now, I have got to recall if I can
What in tarnation came next.

However, this isn’t the first time that I
Have fallen asleep “on the job,”
And, more than disheartening, “sleep-delete” is
Bordering on the macabre.

For it is the death of my most brilliant thoughts
That I had, with great effort, “thunk” up,
And to have, once again, sent them out in the void,
I must say that my actions suck!

Author Notes WHYYYY can't I be this sleepy in bed?

Chapter 12
Donations

By pome lover

I’m sure that you are, too, but I’m bombarded with requests
For money, every single day, I feel like it’s a test:
Is this lady prone to guilt? Will pictures do the trick
Of people—all in dire distress—widowed, wounded, sick?

What special word would make her give, and not to hesitate
To write a nice check instantly, and step up to the plate,
Not toss it on a pile, where it would sit, day after day,
Until she finally throws it out because it’s in the way?

Guilt is not the feeling that I have at times like these,
It’s just that there are way too many worthy folks to please,
And so, instead of giving more to certain ones, I must
Donate a small amount to each, or bank account goes bust.

I guess I could pare down the list, but who would I leave out?
Our military is a must—those hurt—without a doubt,
Deserve my help, as do police and firemen, all who strive
To keep Americans abroad, and those at home, alive.

And groups for fair elections, also term limits for those
Who’ve been in Congress so long, that is all each of them knows.
But there are those in Congress whom I like because they fight
Against those with the power and will to take away my rights.

And so, today, I stood before a mound of envelopes
From charities and people seeking help, with their high hopes
That I, as a recipient of things they do for me,
Will show appreciation and donate, unselfishly.

And with a sigh, I totalled up the small amounts to each
With hopes I helped a little with the goals they strive to reach—
Although I know, tomorrow, I will probably get more,
I’m sorry, but my poor check-writing hand has gotten sore.

Chapter 13
Friday Traffic Means...

By pome lover

For those of us who are retired,
Fridays feel like “no drive days;”
From 2:30 ’til 6:00 PM,
“Going-homers” clog highways,

Byways and all streets and roads
The traffic moves at speed of worms
So, plans for early sup with friends
Means extra travel time confirmed.

It’s best if friends live close because
Their routes are short and thus they miss
Nerve-wracking stops and starts of all
Those bumpers, close enough to kiss.

However, naturally, there’s one
Who lives a long way from the rest
And as that lucky soul is moi,
Each Friday is a “friendship test.”

Most weeks we meet on Saturdays,
But sometimes Saturdays don’t work;
We meet on Friday, then, instead,
When traffic’s surely not a perk.

But, to be fair, I must report
That every third weekend I get
To choose the place where we will eat
Which will be close to me, you bet!

A PS here, so you won’t think
We always eat at restaurants;
We take turns cooking sup, ourselves,
And none of us are dilettantes.

We’ve each perfected specialties—
Since we all cooked for fams for years
And calories? My word, I’d say
Our meals leave diets close to tears.

And since we start so early, we
Are usually home by 9:00 at least.
I, to write into the night,
And they, to watch the TV beast .

But driving home on Friday nights,
Around 8:30, there about
The traffic’s at a faster pace—
The young folk are just starting out.

Chapter 14
Lost

By pome lover

Where is my country?

It’s unrecognizable.

People with opinions that disagree with or question the Left are silenced, taken off social media, banned and/or ignored.

Cancel culture reigns.

God has been taken out of our schools and our pledge of allegiance. Churches and other places of worship have been vandalized. Shootings of innocent worshippers is increasing!

Athletes who are made rich in this country refuse to stand and honor our flag.

Here are some hard facts:

Our flag does not represent racism.

Our country is not racist. It is Al Sharpton and people like him promote it to stay in the news, to stir up discontent, and because of their hate for Trump, whose accomplishments FOR THE BLACKS was evident. They should have been glad of and praised his accomplishments, but of course that would mean they couldn’t gripe anymore.

Our children are being taught that America is a bad country, that we are racist, that white supremacy is rampant. Lies. They are told that they can be either sex they want to be and be surgically or hormonally altered without their parents’ permission! These teachers should be fired.

Our children are NOT taught to love their country, to be proud of their country and its accomplishments. They are no longer taught civics. They are influenced by this administration and the media puppets who spout unAmerican lies every single day. The mainstream media aren’t impartial journalists, they are propagandists.

What has happened to free speech for American citizens? Are politicians and the media and of course Big Tech and social media the only ones who can say what they want without retribution? Who gave them and OUR GOVERNMENT the right to control our lives?

What has happened to honesty? Respect? Civility? Fair play? Responsibility for oneself and for the truth? To Patriotism?

Speaking of rights, what happened to them?

Please tell me, if you will, what was/is wrong with:
Protecting our borders? Standing strong against our enemies? The booming economy we had before Biden? Bringing American jobs back to this country? Lowering taxes for everybody? Giving states more power to govern themselves? Encouraging entrepreneurship? Making education available and attainable for all children? Funding the VA? Increasing salaries for the military?

These and many others are the things President Trump did for America: POSITIVE THINGS,
And he most certainly IS NOT RACIST.

He created more jobs for Blacks, Hispanics, and Asians than any other President. And as far as hiring women goes, he employs many women in high positions. The press never mentions that, nor do they report that he not only took no salary but donated it to worthy causes.

He believed in and encouraged individuality, good work ethic, equality. He made himself available to the press more than any other president, ALL THE WHILE BEING HASSLED, MISQUOTED, AND TREATED DISRESPECTFULLY by them. His lovely wife, who did wonderful things for children, spoke many languages, and was a fabulous ambassador for this country was all but ignored by the press.

Trump upheld the Constitution and the rights of the people. He pulled us out of bad deals. He praised the first responders, all law enforcement. HE WAS AND IS PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN. Isn’t that just awful.

WHAT DO “NEVER TRUMPERS” FIND WRONG WITH THESE THINGS? I would really like to know. Do they really approve of the fact that neither Biden or Kamala have been to the border? That they don’t call what’s going on there a crisis? Oh, wait – I heard that today he finally did, after how long?

But still, he doesn’t feel he should see, first hand. He doesn’t feel the need to see that thousands of criminals, child traffickers and molesters, people with Covid and God knows what else are pouring into this country. And, of course, they will be GIVEN citizenship and voting rights, and everything is being paid for with OUR TAX dollars!

THE FOLLOWING IS IMPORTANT FOR ALL AMERICANS WHO WANT FAIR ELECTIONS.
HR1 will do away with free and fair elections for all time if it’s voted in. It would drastically restrict political speech, empower the federal government to shut down dissent and turn the Federal Election Commission into a partisan political weapon. In addition, it virtually eliminates voter ID requirements nationwide and effectively ends all registration deadlines.

There is no need for this bill because IDs are not hard to get. (There is a public service that helps people get them.)

However—think about this—Americans are voting on laws and candidates and things that are important for our country. These things are not meant to be voted on and forced through by non-citizens. People who come to this country legally want to become citizens and enjoy the life that affords them. Voting is the right of a citizen, not an illegal. And this is NOT being racist!
Just because people cross our borders illegally, doesnt give them the right to vote.

We are becoming not only Socialist, but a pitiful laughingstock for choosing a leader who is obviously mentally impaired. WE ARE ALSO AN EASY TARGET. And that's scary.

Many Americans either don’t believe any of this or don’t care enough to investigate the actions and lives of the people they vote for.

I know there are people on FS whom I like who will not like this, and I'm sorry about that. I do have friends who think differently than I.

But, America is slipping away. A strong, proud nation is turning into a weak, self-destructive third world country of bystanders, watching their freedoms being taken away .

I don’t know about you, but that makes me sick. I want my country back!

Chapter 15
Surprise Cup Cakes

By pome lover

I thought, tonight, a change of pace
A recipe to take the place of politics.

Surprise Cup Cakes

box chocolate cake mix and whatever it requires.
1 tsp vanilla

for filling:
1 8 oz cream cheese
1 egg
1/3 C sugar
pinch salt
6 oz pkg chocolate chips

Papers for muffin tins

Prepare cake mix, adding a tsp vanilla for more flavor.
Pour into paper cups in muffin tin, 2/3 full
Oven -- 350

Filling:
With mixer, cream the cheese with sugar. Add egg and salt.
Stir chocolate chips into creamed cheese mixture.
Drop tsp full of filling into center of each cupcake.
If you have extra, use it. The more the better.
Bake 20 -- 25 minutes

Icing is up to you. Bought icing is certainly quick and easy.
Enjoy

Author Notes I know, bought cake mix and icing - so where's the recipe? Well, the middle, of course.
I promise a better one later.

Chapter 16
Will They or Won't They?

By pome lover

My granddaughter’s a senior, all set to graduate
But no word from the college and it’s getting late
Will they have it or not, the graduating ceremony?
Are there plans in the works, or is it parsimony?

Will she walk across the stage and receive her diploma?
Will her family be there or have to stay “homa?”
Time is a’fleetin’, no plans have been made
Invitations aren’t ordered for graduates’ big day

It seems that they’ve lived through enough time in limbo
But still, the University hasn’t let anyone know.
So, we wait. Is this happening in all of the states?
No live ceremonies for these graduates?

No cap and gown wearing? No pix with big smiles?
To look at years later, perhaps with her child?
Why not have it out on the school football field?
Outside in fresh air? That might just be ideal.

At this point, there’s nothing. At this point we wait
To see if we get to see her graduate.

Chapter 17
Not Your Usual Pecan Pie

By pome lover

I’m getting too angry at what’s on the news
To comment, and so, to unlight my fuse
I give you another of my recipes
And this one’s in rhyme, if you please!

Another dessert that’s a nice one for guests
It’s chewy and sweet so small portions are best
This one has no mix, it is all made from scratch
But if fam wants some, too, you can whip up a “batch”

Not Your Usual Pecan Pie

14 Ritz crackers                    1 cup pecan pieces
3 egg whites                            1 tsp vanilla
1 cup sugar                              small carton whipping cream
½ tsp baking powder

In gallon size Baggie, put Ritz crackers in.
And roll ‘til they’re crumbs with a big rolling pin.
Add sugar and bp to egg whites you beat,
Next vanilla, then beat ‘til the whites form a peak

Fold crumbs and pecans with a slow, gentle hand;
Pour mixture into buttered 8 inch pie pan
Bake at 325 for approx. 30 minutes.
While it cools, beat the cream, with the sug and van in it.

Top up the pie and then refrigerate.
It’s rich; and with small slices, it will serve eight.

Author Notes Two funny things were said about my last recipe:
One person said it was short, not much thought went into it and it wasn't in his diet so that made it hard to praise. He was kidding me, but this one won't be on his diet either, so I'll probably get a 4. (if anything)
Another person said, "where's the poem?" well, it did have 2 lines at the beginning. So this one is in verse, except for the ingredients.
Maybe next time, I'll think of something important to write. Or entertaining - a novel idea.

Chapter 18
Sleep Deprived

By pome lover

Sleep,
It is
Ellusive;
Its negligence
Of me, abusive.
Maybe I can tease it
Or better still, appease it
Though I wish that I could seize it
By its delinquent neck and squeeze it

Author Notes and I'm not kidding.
a nodding Nonet.

Chapter 19
BLM's Peaceful Protest

By pome lover

There’ll come a day, if justice serves,
BLM gets what it deserves,
When members will have desperate need
Of help, from cops, but who will heed?

Members, when not in a group
Might find that they are “in the soup,”
Who will they call? Who’ll give a hoot?
They, themselves, gave cops the boot.

Instead of using offered help
From Trump’s tenure, to learn a trade,
They listened to Al Sharpton’s lies
And of their lives, a mess they’ve made.

When they grow up, if they should do,
Will they, in turn, have children who
Would rather boil with hate, and spew
Untruths? And still attack the Blue?

America’s police are trained
To rush and help the hurt and maimed
They put themselves in danger when
They stop a car with drugs therein,

Or try to stop a robbery
A dangerous job, as you can see.
These men and women choose to do
Their job: protecting me and you.

So, if you want to sympathize
With BLM, research their lies
Find out about the chances they
Were offered, and they turned away

Because it is much easier
To be a far-Left appeaser—
Promoting fear, lighting the fuse
And, wow! They’ll end up in the news!

Blacks are fanned with hate because
The Left wants votes to change our laws
And so behind their lies they cower
So blacks will help ensure their power.

In “22”, if not before
I hope the blacks who’re in the door
Of politics will all extoll
Work ethic as a needed goal.

And maybe blacks who’ve rioted
Will turn to jobs with pay, instead,
And through hard work, they’ll realize
To earn respect's a worthy prize.

Author Notes when will the riots stop, lies be quelled, and needed skills be learned?

Chapter 20
The Pres

By pome lover

Joe be nimble?
Joe be quick?
No, but signs things really slick.

Signs what’s put
in front of him;
Doesn’t bother reading them.

Said he’d work
across the aisle;
Said it with that plastered smile.

But guess what?
It’s not seen yet,
And no one ever will, I bet.

He turned a great
Economy
Into a real catastrophe.

Billions, trillions
Spent, now we
Are in debt for eternity.

In thirty years
All he has done
Is take care of # 1

So, tell me,
If you wouldn’t mind,
One thing he’s done for mankind.

If, indeed,
He is your man,
Tell me, so I’ll understand.

For what I see
And read of him
He answers to the far Left’s whim.

And they are Socialists
Whose goal
Is our country to remold.

What about our grand
And glorious homeland
Do you dislike?

The freedom to
Do as you please
Except, of course, to breathe and sneeze. :)

Author Notes I have asked this questions many times, and no one's answered me yet.

Chapter 21
Listening

By pome lover

Would anyone like my Alexa?
I think she has gotten to be
Too big for her britches, as Mom used to say,
She talks unexpectedly.

I’ll be in my office, “creating”,
Alexa, from out of the blue
Says, “I don’t believe I know that one.”
Well now, I don’t know about you,

But being as she’s in my bedroom
And there’s no one else here but me,
I’m typing away in my office,
There’s no explanation I see.

UNLESS, like my friends have been saying,
That Big Tech is spying on me--
I’ve nothing to hide, but I think that
It’s time that we part company!

So, although it’s neat when I ask her
Play the tango from Scent of a Woman
Or anything else that I want to,
It could be Big Tech that she summons.

But if you would like her, she’s handy,
She’ll give you the weather forecast
But it’s possible also, that she might
Tell Fauci you don’t wear your mask. ;)

Chapter 22
I am a Fish

By pome lover

I think about today and what we have become
And wonder if we all have lost our minds
For everything, it seems, is upside down and I
Am looking for some sense between the lines.

It seems those in control—the mores-setting crowd,
Are feeling more and more omnipotence;
Their new truths are so skewed and some are even lewd
And not a one of them makes any sense.

This one example here, just makes me want to tear
My hair out; craziness that’s gone too far
Some screwed up autocrat is telling children that
What they feel they are IS what they are.

Suppose I made a wish that I could be a fish
Swimming happily around a pond;
And I decided I would like to have a try
To be a fish, and so the magic wand

Waves over me, and lo, it changes me and so
It’s fun, at first, and then reality
Sets in; I realize that this weird fish disguise
Is not and never will be the real me!

Well, I’m sorry, mate, but it’s a bit too late
To change you back, because you made your choice,
But when my mom said no, the “law” said yes, and so
You changed me anyway, she had no voice.

Yes, I’m afraid that’s true, and so, forever you
Will be a fish so you had better try
To enjoy your life, no matter what the strife
You’ll be a fish until the day you die.

But I am not a fish and I take back my wish
Please let me be the boy my mother had;
Well, I am sorry, son, the damage has been done
So, buck up, being a fish is not so bad.

Author Notes this is just one part of the madness

Chapter 23
Gnats and Mosquitos

By pome lover

Here we are, our glorious Spring
With windows open wide
And the screens do keep bugs out
But, all windows aside,

The half a second that it takes
To walk out of the door,
These insect creatures race inside
Dispersing by the score.

I go to wipe some “pepper” off
The kitchen counter top
The “pepper” flies up in my face
I thought my heart would stop.

My glass of water I put down—
A gnat sits on the rim,
A swatter would knock over glass
It’s just a game to him.

Gnats fly at the speed of sound
And gravitate to plate
Upon which my nice dinner sits,
My warp speed hand’s too late

I wave them off, and finally
I take my plate and go
Into my office, close the door,
Ah… gnatless… but no,

They have morphed. They’re everywhere
And so, I go outside.
If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em
(But I took insecticide!!)

They must have spread the word
About their easy target, me,
For their mosquito cousins
Came immediately to see.

But I have news for them
(Aside from trusty insect spray)
Mosquitos do not bother me
I don’t know why, but hey…

A breeze…oh, joy, has just come up
And dutifully has blown
My insect friends away so I
Can call my meal, my own.

I can’t help but be curious
About the freeze we had—
That freak freeze killing all my plants
And no heat; it was bad.

I’d always heard it’d kill the bugs
A freeze’s saving grace,
But it didn’t, and I think
Next time, I’m getting mace!

Of course, you know that half the fun
Of writing fiction is
The freedom to exaggerate:
(it’s “creative show-biz”)

Chapter 24
A Slothful Sloth

By pome lover

A sloth seems a real mellow fellow
Just hangin’ around on a limb
Deadlines are not in his purview
They do not apply to him.

I am not known to be slothful
I rarely, if ever, am late
But I am behind in this contest
It’s time that I escalate.

Therefore, some sloth information,
So you won’t have read this in vain
Females give birth to their babies
Hanging from tree limbs, in pain!

On that happy note I will leave you
And get on with my poetry
For this fun Na Po Ri Mo contest
I needs must wax po-e-ti-cally.

Chapter 25
A Salute to Tim Scott

By pome lover

I heard today, of something so low that was said
About Republican Senator Tim Scott, that it made me sick.
His speech was a joyful account of this land
And the proud folks who built it, fought and died for it.
He talked of the chance to become anything a person wanted to be
No matter his race,
If he worked hard, with determination, and learned all he could,
He could succeed.
He spoke of his childhood and his single mom
Who taught him those things,
And he worked long and hard and accomplished his goal
And is thankful to live in this land of opportunity.
Tim Scott is what this country is all about; he took that opportunity.
He was born poor, got an education, worked hard. And is now
A United States Senator.
An American patriot and proud to be.
He doesn’t want to change it, bad mouth it, or make anybody ashamed of their color.
It doesn’t matter. We are all Americans.
America is not racist.
However, a very sad, dishonorable, and despicable thing was said by those who feel the necessity to put down anyone who thinks differently from them.
They called him “Uncle Tim,” following the lead our very own Pres and his Jim Crow remark.
Tim Scott is a good man. He has shown his true colors.
So have his attackers.
For those who didn’t hear his speech last night, you can YouTube it.
It is worth listening to.

Chapter 26
The Quality of Honor

By pome lover

The quality of honor is not strained;
'Tis offered by the guiding hand from Heaven
To the souls of men beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him who hath and him who seeks.
“Tis goodness begetting goodness; It becomes
Elected leaders better than their “crowns.”
The lack of it deserts those whom they “serve,”
Who’re powerless under those they voted in.
T’would be an attribute to God, Himself,
If earthly power doth then show likest God’s
And honor wins o’er ruthlessness of men.
For leaders ruling over others’ lives, consider this:
Would thou abide by that thou would enforce?
If not, honor demands some further thought
And prayer for guidance for a fair resolve, and thus
Might honorable minds rethink their power
And strive for honesty to those they swore to serve.

Author Notes The Quality of Mercy is from
Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, Act 4
This is my (very loosely) plagiaristic plea to our administration
To fulfill its duty to American citizens with honor and fairness.

Chapter 27
Split Families

By pome lover

A 5-7-5

Politics divide

Families suffer for it

Don’t let it change love

Chapter 28
The Written Word

By pome lover

I found some “sage” one-liners
I thought I’d share with you.
They are from a book of quotes.
Here are just a few.

Quotes to bring a smile,
Some are more worth while
Than others ~

From Pudd’n Head Wilson’s Calendar:*
“…cauliflower is nothing but cabbage with a college education.”
“Noise proves nothing. Often a hen who has merely laid an egg, cackles as if she had laid an asteroid.”
“Be good and you’ll be lonesome.”

Attributed to Mark Twain:
“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence in society.”

Bill Mauldin – cartoonist during WWII:
“I feel like a fugitive from the law of averages.’”

H.L. Menken: an American journalist, essayist, satirist, cultural critic
“The older I grow, the more I distrust the familiar doctrine that age brings wisdom.”

“Conscience is the inner voice which warns us somebody may be looking.”

And then, because I write for kids
Of Singing Toads and Katydids,
Here are authors’ words that I
Love, and think they signify
Joy

Some of my favorite words in the lines from Rudyard Kipling’s scene in The Elephant’s Child, or How the Elephant Got His Trunk, as the little elephant was about to meet the crocodile.
“He trod on what he thought was a log of wood at the very edge of the great grey-green greasy Limpopo River all set about with Fever Trees. But it was really the crocodile, oh best beloved, and the crocodile winked one eye, like this!”

And then there’s A.A. Milne’s lovable (and wise) Winnie the Pooh:
“A hug is always the right size.” ...
“The things that make me different are the things that make me, me.” ...
“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”

Books don’t need to be replaced
We need them for the human race
Passing down to children who
Will read them and then read them to

More generations, stories told,
Beloved for years by young and old
Books, real books; pages to turn
Wondrous things from which to learn.

May libraries, and books stores never close.

Author Notes *Pudd'nhead Wilson was a Northerner who came to the small Missouri town of Dawson's Landing to build a career as a lawyer. Immediately upon his arrival he alienates the townspeople, who don't understand his wit.

Chapter 29
A Nifty Breakfast

By pome lover

This morning turned out cool and wet
Unusual for us here;
Generally, the AC’s on
About this time of year.

Decided on a breakfast that
Might seem a little strange
But it was yummy and it made
A most delicious change.

I’d made some corn bread muffins
For a meal the other night
And put them in the freezer
’Til another time was right.

Thawed, I halved and buttered them
And toasted them and then
Poured Peach Cobbler Syrup
Over all of it. Ummmm. (grin)

This comp’ny sells all different kinds,
Blueberry and Peach
Ras, black and strawberry,
I ordered one of each!

Author Notes they're all good.
by the way, if you happen to have an Aunt Jemima syrup bottle, hang on to it, it'll be worth something one day!

Chapter 30
Fini!

By pome lover

It’s
Over
All over
I’m exhausted,
Worn to a frazzle-
No Mo Na Mo Wri Mo
But it’s been a lot of fun
Got comp’ny coming, gotta run.
Thanks for the challenge, dear Lyenochka!

Author Notes A reverse nonet
Many thanks to encouraging friends who helped drag me across the finish line!

One of thousands of stories, poems and books available online at FanStory.com
You've read it - now go back to FanStory.com to comment on each chapter and show your thanks to the author!

I don’t know about you But at the end of day When I take off my shoes and bra I almost shout, “HOORAY!”

Sleep, It is Ellusive; Its negligence Of me, abusive. Maybe I can tease it Or better still, appease it Though I wish that I could seize it By its delinquent neck and squeeze it

A 5-7-5

Politics divide Families suffer for it Don’t let it change love

It’s Over All over I’m exhausted, Worn to a frazzle- No Mo Na Mo Wri Mo But it’s been a lot of fun Got comp’ny coming, gotta run. Thanks for the challenge, dear Lyenochka!

I don’t know about you
But at the end of day
When I take off my shoes and bra
I almost shout, “HOORAY!”

Sleep,
It is
Ellusive;
Its negligence
Of me, abusive.
Maybe I can tease it
Or better still, appease it
Though I wish that I could seize it
By its delinquent neck and squeeze it

Politics divide

Families suffer for it

Don’t let it change love

It’s
Over
All over
I’m exhausted,
Worn to a frazzle-
No Mo Na Mo Wri Mo
But it’s been a lot of fun
Got comp’ny coming, gotta run.
Thanks for the challenge, dear Lyenochka!