Friday, February 14, 2014
Haiku Friday: Love and Sweaters
Happy Valentines Day!
You know what you might not want to give that special someone this year? One of the US Olympic Team sweaters, worn during the opening ceremonies. They seem to be inspired by the "horrifying Christmas sweater" trend, cross-bred with hyper-patriotism.
This week, I give everyone license to haiku about sweaters or love (of any variety).
Here is mine:
They all looks so fit!
(Except the curlers). But the
Sweaters flatter none...
Now you get to go! Use the 5/7/5 syllable formula. And if Sally and Geoff have fully reconciled... there might be a PG-13 rating.
Comments:
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Valentine's Day, blah,
Facebook feed competition:
Whose beau is sweetest?
Smoochy, smoochy! Gag.
Till lovebirds' sugar highs drop,
I'm hibernating.
Facebook feed competition:
Whose beau is sweetest?
Smoochy, smoochy! Gag.
Till lovebirds' sugar highs drop,
I'm hibernating.
I like sweatshirts more
Than sweaters. I like nothing
More than yoga pants.**
** Particularly after eating an entire box of candy and/or drinking an entire bottle of champagne, which are both activities I might partake in tonight.
Than sweaters. I like nothing
More than yoga pants.**
** Particularly after eating an entire box of candy and/or drinking an entire bottle of champagne, which are both activities I might partake in tonight.
He won me with warm
eyes, good humor, homemade egg
custard pie. It worked.
No games. If he said
‘I’ll call you Tuesday,’ the call
came on that Tuesday.
Three decades ago,
we said ‘I do.’ Ups and downs
since, and we’ve lasted.
He keeps me with trust,
caring, doing a thousand
little things daily.
And the warm eyes, good
humor, homemade egg custard
pie. These lasted, too.
eyes, good humor, homemade egg
custard pie. It worked.
No games. If he said
‘I’ll call you Tuesday,’ the call
came on that Tuesday.
Three decades ago,
we said ‘I do.’ Ups and downs
since, and we’ve lasted.
He keeps me with trust,
caring, doing a thousand
little things daily.
And the warm eyes, good
humor, homemade egg custard
pie. These lasted, too.
Listen Osler--Geoffrey does not suck on VD.
WHEN GEOFFREY CHASED SALLY AROUND THE HEART-SHAPED BED IN THE POCONOS
Red Cashmere Sweater
Red Spike Heels.Certain Parts of
Me beg attention!
WHEN GEOFFREY CHASED SALLY AROUND THE HEART-SHAPED BED IN THE POCONOS
Red Cashmere Sweater
Red Spike Heels.Certain Parts of
Me beg attention!
# posted by 
: 8:52 AM
: 8:52 AM
I do not grasp your
Sweater.Ecru lace trailing.
Silk liquefaction,
Pale yellow chemise
Falling on the path to bed,
My hand walks your bare
Chest.Full moon approves
Us golden. You Apollo,
I,Aphrodite.
No.I do not know
Your sweaters. Nor will I
Be known by them. Soft
Will win the taste
Of my pomegranate roses.
FairMan,come hither.
Sweater.Ecru lace trailing.
Silk liquefaction,
Pale yellow chemise
Falling on the path to bed,
My hand walks your bare
Chest.Full moon approves
Us golden. You Apollo,
I,Aphrodite.
No.I do not know
Your sweaters. Nor will I
Be known by them. Soft
Will win the taste
Of my pomegranate roses.
FairMan,come hither.
# posted by : 12:10 PM
: 12:10 PM
In the eighth grade
I had a mint green mohair
Sweater with a vee neck.
I did not know
then,when asked to pick up a
Pencil,boys glimpsed breasts.
Or swirling in dance,
looked up to see foreign regions.
God bless boys who taught
This shy maid lust,then
love!Today,snow falling,lone,
Lament naughty boys.
I had a mint green mohair
Sweater with a vee neck.
I did not know
then,when asked to pick up a
Pencil,boys glimpsed breasts.
Or swirling in dance,
looked up to see foreign regions.
God bless boys who taught
This shy maid lust,then
love!Today,snow falling,lone,
Lament naughty boys.
# posted by : 12:35 PM
: 12:35 PM
Listen Osler--can't you muzzle that Eye-talian Chick,Pro-Messy Tanya? Her poems make me horny. I wouldn't let Geoffrey outta bed til 1. Then Geoffrey read her poem and the shoots the whole afternoon, & possibly the evening. I got places to go and people to see. Geoffrey got me a snowblower and a cashmere sweater for VD& now I gotta blow the walk .Geoffrey aid he'd make me chicken and dumplings for dinner...and I'm not gonna say what he wants now. And that's another thing...Old Pro-Messy reminds me of what my aunt Myrtle used to say,"She wouldn't say 'tit' if she had a mouth full of it!"
# posted by : 1:53 PM
: 1:53 PM
I do not grasp your
Sweater.Ecru lace trailing.
Silk liquefaction,
Pale yellow chemise
Falling on the path to bed,
My hand walks your bare
Chest.Full moon approves
Us golden. You Apollo,
I,Aphrodite.
No.I do not know
Your sweaters. Nor will I
Be known by them. Soft
Will win the taste
Of my pomegranate roses.
FairMan,come hither.
Sweater.Ecru lace trailing.
Silk liquefaction,
Pale yellow chemise
Falling on the path to bed,
My hand walks your bare
Chest.Full moon approves
Us golden. You Apollo,
I,Aphrodite.
No.I do not know
Your sweaters. Nor will I
Be known by them. Soft
Will win the taste
Of my pomegranate roses.
FairMan,come hither.
# posted by : 7:31 PM
: 7:31 PM
I do not grasp your
Sweater.Ecru lace trailing.
Silk liquefaction,
Pale yellow chemise
Falling on the path to bed,
My hand walks your bare
Chest.Full moon approves
Us golden. You Apollo,
I,Aphrodite.
No.I do not know
Your sweaters. Nor will I
Be known by them. Soft
Will win the taste
Of my pomegranate roses.
FairMan,come hither.
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Sweater.Ecru lace trailing.
Silk liquefaction,
Pale yellow chemise
Falling on the path to bed,
My hand walks your bare
Chest.Full moon approves
Us golden. You Apollo,
I,Aphrodite.
No.I do not know
Your sweaters. Nor will I
Be known by them. Soft
Will win the taste
Of my pomegranate roses.
FairMan,come hither.
# posted by : 7:31 PM
: 7:31 PM << Home
