Too Cold To Go Outside

I woke today – weatherman lied.

I rolled over and I sighed.

Couldn’t sleep, eyes open wide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

There’ll be no swing set or slide.

There’ll be no walk or bike ride.

There’ll be no kites to be flied.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Today we have to play inside.

We’ll think of things never tried.

Stocking feet on floors we’ll glide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

We’ll build a fort for us to hide.

We’ll play dress up – you be bride.

Explore jungles – I’ll be guide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Time to dig a path that’s wide.

Getting dressed, boot laces tied.

Wind so stingy I almost cried.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

All’s warm, coats hung to be dried.

Find crayons, colors I’ve eyed.

Draw pictures for the fridge with pride.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Icy world all is gray sky-ed.

Plants droopy, looks like they died.

Bay frozen we’ll see no tide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Now sleep, teddies at my side.

Cold nights end, take it in stride.

Spring soon then winter we’ll chide.

When not too cold to go outside.

~*~

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Just Dessert

I’ve had my fill, now I get cake.
And a warm embrace when I awake.
I’ll have a dozen kisses, oh so sweet.
Or maybe thirteen for a bakers’ treat.
~
The frosting I’ll save until the end.
And I’ll share it all with my best friend.
We’ll enjoy it fresh and then make more.
Forever nourished, that’s what love’s for.

~*~
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A Holiday Plan

It all starts when the turkey is done.
A month flies by while on the run.
I don’t mean to be a Scrooge or Grinch,
but I can be either in a pinch.
~
I don’t really hate the holidays,
but time could be spent in better ways.
We cut down trees to place on stands.
We’ll slap on balls with eager hands.
~
We cover it in lights to watch it glow.
Then when droopy to the curb it’ll go.
We wrap up gifts to pile high,
then the bill comes in and we all cry.
~
We’ll fill up bags with excess waste,
adding last year’s things we bought in haste.
So maybe next year we can stop and pause.
And maybe give a vacation to old Santa Claus.

~*~
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Questionable Poetry

As a man I question my greed.
As a poet I question my need.
As a professional I question a lot.
As an artist it’s questions I’ve got.
~
As a pessimist my questions are tough.
As an optimist I question not enough.
As a slacker I question overtasking.
As one with answers I question the asking.
~
As a thinker I question the question.
As a lover I question the suggestion.
As a person I question my will.
And as of today I’m questioning still.

~*~
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Buggered

Every glitch finds a way;
to fix itself or wreck the day.
Sometime things don’t work as planned.
Sometime plans must be panned.
~
A cat with fleas is truly bad.
A ruined trip is surely sad.
Heads in a tizzy, tensions on high,
sometime maybes just won’t fly.
~
But some time things do work out.
And all ends well where there was doubt.
The cat’s O.K. and the kid’s on her jet.
And a story’s to tell, this I’ll bet.

~*~
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Switching Gears

My poet switch has gone awry;
I want to write, so I don’t know why.
In sit in the chill this Sunday morn,
my thoughts warm but I’m torn.
~
I’d rather not force the words to go;
I prefer a natural flow.
Love abounds and all is well.
My brain’s working, as far as I can tell.
~
My darling sleeps whilst I scribble.
But today she’ll wake to only dribble.
Maybe it’s just this change in time.
And tomorrow I’ll return to standard rhyme.

~*~
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