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Minnie Chatterfield Poem
A Slightly Cynical Christmas
The day before Christmas,
My head’s in a whirl,
Trompsing through malls
With a two-year-old girl.
Rudolph and Frosty
Are far from my mind
It’s some weird talking Elmo
S’Got me standing in line.
The crappy store speakers
Playing “Joy to the World”
Heck, I’ll just be happy
If my Visa’s still good.
Mistletoe hanging
On doors here and there
But if someone dare kiss me
He gets decked “you know where!”
The cashier’s dressed like Santa
With a hat and a beard
Both me and my daughter get
Creeped out ‘cause its weird.
Now don’t get me wrong,
I’m no Grinch, I’m no Scrooge
But all this good cheer’s
Got me reaching for booze.
My gifts are now bought
And we head for the car
Visions of Egg Nog,
Perhaps a stop at a Bar?
We dash through the snow
And laugh all the way
The joy of the season
Momentarily got in my way.
We get into the car
And of course it won’t start
And there is a funny, weird smell
I think its elf farts.
So a quick text to Santa
And his eight tiny reindeer.
And next thing I know,
We’re high in the air.
And I waved to the mall
As we rode out of sight
And I thought to myself
It might be a good night
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE
Copyright © Minnie Chatterfield | Year Posted 2008
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Details |
Minnie Chatterfield Poem
At seventeen months I know I am your world.
At seventeen years, I pray I am a part.
At seventeen months I always know where you are.
At seventeen years, I pray that you call.
At seventeen months, you cry over booboos.
At seventeen years, you will cry over boys.
At seventeen months, a kiss will make it better.
At seventeen years, I pray a hug will help.
At seventeen months, I love to listen to you talk.
At seventeen years, I pray I remember to listen.
At seventeen months, the world is a full of wonder.
At seventeen years, I pray your world is still wonderful.
At seventeen months, you are just starting childhood.
At seventeen years, you are just leaving it behind.
At seventeen months, I love you with all my heart.
At seventeen years, I will love you with all my heart.
Copyright © Minnie Chatterfield | Year Posted 2008
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Minnie Chatterfield Poem
A buzz, a beep, a ringing bell
That damn loud noise that comes from hell.
It wakes me from a restful slumber
With evil glowing flashing numbers.
What did I do to earn this fate?
Besides stay up an hour late.
My fuzzy brain would like to know
From buried deep in my pillow.
Why can't I wake up to something sweet,
A gentle breeze? A birdie's tweet?
A soft massage or lover's touch?
Oh no, that's asking way too much.
I contemplate my destiny
And how I wasted yesterday
And now must pay the sinner's dues
Ugh, this poem is lame, I'll just hit snooze!
Copyright © Minnie Chatterfield | Year Posted 2008
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Minnie Chatterfield Poem
Your scent announces you before my doorbell even rings. I grin with anticipation knowing
soon you will be here with me again.
I carry you over the threshold and seat you in my parlour then I return to pay your
chauffeur,
A comfortable routine as this is a dance we have done many times.
I return to join you and discover you still wear your wrap. My gentle and experienced fingers
work quickly to expose all your tender goodness.
My breath is taken away by just how hot you are. I wait a moment to allow both of us to cool
down.
I unhurriedly take one of your fingers and bring it close to my lips Remembering your
sauciness at our last encounter and daring to hope to sample it again.
Finally I bring you into my mouth and get my first taste of you this evening
My hunger for you is exquisite and a moan escapes me.
But something isn't right. You are not the same. I am suspicious, and before I continue, I
take a good long look at you.
There is a flaw in your beauty.
They forgot the onions again!
Copyright © Minnie Chatterfield | Year Posted 2008
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