A Christmas Tale

Happy Holidays

Rhymesalot's avatarrhymesalot

Chapter 1 ~ the Beginning

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All’s quiet this early winter’s night.

Embers fade in the candles dancing light.

I was thinking of Christmas, many years past.

Those fond old memories, now fading fast.

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I recalled when our home came alive.

I was just a small girl of about five.

It was a grand old house for mom, dad and me.

Sat perched on a hill overlooking the sea.

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It’s still a museum in our little town.

It was built by a General of historic renown.

Shared with his bride Martha, she had a sad life.

The General’s a hero, she a young widowed wife.

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We cared for the house and gave the tours.

All year-long we opened our doors.

We welcomed the guest to step back in time.

So come on in and share our rhyme.

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I lay awake and tossed and turned.

Thinking of…

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Porta-Poetry* Triku

*Rated IA (Immature Adult)

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Tissue Shrouds –

No matter the seats

An outhouse be – pit alone

Assesses its tone

*

Haste Makes Waste –

Like the hasty turd

Rushing to an open door

Nourishing no more

*

A Pig with Lipstick –

A penned little pig

Who plays in yesterday’s poo

Is someone’s lunch too

~*~

Sck121414

A Day on the Farm

Rhymesalot's avatarrhymesalot

The sun’s our clock, rooster alarm.

Up to start a day on the farm.

Fresh air and sunshine all long day.

Eat our breakfast then on our way.

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I put on my boots, coat and hat.

And find a glove under the cat.

Out the door to the bunnies hutch.

They eat  pellets they don’t like much.

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My dog follows, opens the door.

Sometimes gone for hours or more.

Jumping high, trips latch with paw.

The cutest thing I ever saw.

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Next we’re off to feed the plump hens.

Gather eggs, clean muddy pig pens.

We’ll hose it down then slop the sows.

Grab our pails and milk the cows.

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Feed the mare, sleeps in the sable.

I’ll ride her soon when I’m able.

First she’s brushed then gets oats and hay.

We do all these things twice a day

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In the garden, vegetables grow.

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