He pulled up to the Triple "T" Ranch in a shiny Cadillac.
In his trailer was an Arabian steed with the finest tack.
He wore Tony Lama alligator boots and Calvin Klein jeans,
And a stylish Stetson hat - he looked like a man of means!
He strode to the corral where grizzled cowpokes lazed.
They chortled at the greenhorn, each of them amazed!
"Where's the boss?" he asked, "I'm seeking a position!"
"Over yonder" said they. (The boss eyed him with great suspicion!)
The boss sauntered over to see what the hullabaloo was all about.
"I'll handle this! You fellers git back to work!" he said with a shout!
He sized up the lad saying, "Son, I ain't impressed with them fancy labels!
But you're hired! Here's a shovel! Ya kin start by muckin' out them stables!"
Entry for Carolyn Devonshire's "Green Humor Rhymes" Contest
My baking skills I have to change
Vast quantity is needed now
Cos I invited Bigfoot to lunch
Do I serve deer or a tasty cow
He doesn't want meat and two veg
His menu would want meat and nuts
For a whole deer he will surely beg
Must have protein and carbohydrates
A nut roast to accompany his steer
Meat like a hog roast is cooking fine
Hmm nasty smell I think he is near
I hope he realises some of its mine
He squats his frame against a tree
Looks over to where I am
Geez I think he fancies eating me
Licking his lips causes me alarm.
But all is well he has spied
Lurking in a tree above
A grey squirrel looking boss-eyed
At big foot with a look of love
Down it comes and sit's quite near
Espying of the fruit and nuts
It doesn't eat cow or deer
I will high 5 this squirrel cos it has guts.
So all is well Bigfoot eats with glee
Most of the deer and nuts as well
Managed to leave a bit for me
Then up he leaves, left this story to tell.
Penned 17 April 2015 by Seren Roberts
I detest writing on this poxy little phone
Hunched over a 2by3inch screen
Punching away at the imaginary
Glass keyboard
Boss eyed
Cross as hell... every time I lose connection
Hence half hour
Wasted ... oh well
Crucifying my wretched eyesight
And arthritic finger aching
Pleading
That I should go out and play
Unaware that this old bag is way to old
To enjoy herself
And throw caution
Right out of her cracked conservatory window
And slam dunked mind
Oh isn't life grand
Winding up ole misery guts
And driving her round the bend
Up the Swanee
Heading over the cartoon hills to
Bedlam by the sea
Tapping away on her poxy little
HTC
The scream
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