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Poem for Stormy's Poetry/Newsletter Contest |
The Ramblings of an Old Man I woke up one morning to a November fog. Bleak, outside it was for any mortal. Where are those ghastly purple slippers? Aunt what's her face (will remain nameless) always had a strange sense of humor! Fog of November, now I know how they feel in London. Let's face it, what good is fog - ghastly - can't see damn thing. I remember back in '32, the Depression - no mortal would want to live it! That President (he will remain nameless), just about did us all in; cold killed my purple flowers! London - I visited it once - ghastly, damn place! No mortal in his right mind would go back - bleak, very bleak. Met a filly, pretty face (she will remain nameless), good looker wearing a purple boa. Took me out of my November fog, she did! Place her, I can't; there is a purple haze over me - damn November Fog! Let's face it; I am getting old - life is looking bleak at 95. This mortal will remain nameless on his headstone. And no longer will I have to deal with that ghastly November fog! by Seabreeze 10.10.2018 |