Feeling kinda cruddy, yup, that's the word
Too many fries, too many burgs
When will I learn I can't handle that stuff
Stomach rebels, starts causing a fuss
Once could eat nails and all kinds of gunk
Now I eat mush and ground junk
My teeth are all gone, can't chew anymore
Things go down whole, my tummy gets sore
So such is the life of this senior type dude
Head for the washroom, each time I eat food
Food disappears like famous greased lightning
Or I sit there for hours, really quite frightening
Irregularity's my name, I'm “IRREG” for short
Hope an operation, I don't have to resort
An artificial esophagus transplanted in me
So I can go regular like it once used to be
Oh for the days when I could eat all that junk
Those days are gone, who woulda thunk
That one day I'd be eating my morning cereal
Laced with Metamucil or some such material!
Olivia for many decades
you have been my number one
in looking back over the years
these SUMMER NIGHTS were such fun
But so quick like GREASED LIGHTNING
we would speed along BANKS OF THE OHIO
thinking of wanting A LITTLE MORE LOVE
we would feel such a PHYSICAL glow
We were at such a height of MAGIC
that TAKE ME HOME COUNTRY ROAD fast
as indeed we sped along like GREASE
making light of all we passed
YOU'RE THE ONE THAT I WANT
because BEING HOPELESSLY DEVOTED TO YOU
wishes you would MAKE A MOVE ON ME
to make my dream come true
Such a hit in the movies too
a festive cracker with CHRISTMAS ROMANCE
XANADU so full of music verve
Olivia GREASEd us with every chance
August 8th '22 is a real sad day
indeed was when the music did die
for that distinctive amazing voice
cause without it makes one cry
Olivia Newton-John was sheer amazing
every boy loved ONJ to be his girl
now gone but never will be forgotten
Olivia's beauty and voice brought such a thrill!
Wildfires spread like greased lightning
Contagious diseases, like wildfires
Juicy gossip's refined in the rumor mill
Rumors shoot through the grapevine
Negativity think it's pretty quick
Though positivity's just as slick
Smile, and the whole world smiles with you
Laugh, and soon everyone else is laughing too
Open a door for someone, and they will open one for you
Feed a hungry man ~ You'll come to feed other hungry men too
Saltcoats born,Saltcoats bred
His darts left many a defender for dead
Had he not been flagged so often for offside
His haul of goals would have sky-highed
His quick reflexes the eye deceived
Leaving linesmen blind to his onside speed
This was a Lisbon Lion with a cheetah's pace
Forcing defenders to foul rather than chase
Faster by far than any other
He caused defences all sorts of bother
Let us recall with affection wee Bobby Lennox
To opposing teams always a marauding menace.
RHYTHM OF TIME
7 15 pointers race accusingly. Crawl out of bed.
Hurry to bus 8 00. Tulips open imperceptibly in the sun.
Bus creeps through gridlock. Pointers spin in a blur.
Elevator stops at every floor. Wristwatch approaches light speed.
Begin morning mail-call late. Priority action urgent.
Chronometer drags till 12 30. Lunch hour.
Greased lightning hands sweep face. 1 30 arrives breathless.
Pointers develop rigor mortis till 5 30. End of day.
.................................................
*Everyone knows the feeeling that time drags or speeds up
depending on your mood.
THE PENGUIN
Way down south on a continent frozen
The penguin a tough life has chosen
Though you’d think he’d be coy
Like a super-cool playboy
You’ll find him out preening and posin’
With movement on foot unexciting
He shuffles along then goes sliding
Though on land a slow coach
In depart or approach
In the water he goes like greased lightning
He’s a little short in the leg
Dressed bespoke (can’t wear off-the-peg)
Hand it to this ice capper
He always looks dapper
Even when he is hatching an egg
So the penguin’s no slouch, he’s a winner
By sartorial standards no sinner
He’ll emerge in a trice
From the Antarctic ice
Already dressed for dinner
Super grandma girl, in her long green cape,
took a quick ride on a golden grape;
she slipped, greased lightning like, over the floor,
gunned her girl motor and flew out the door.
A piercing scream out on the front lawn . . .
a grandchild in trouble???? No time for a yawn.
Like all super heroes she was there in a flash,
with a dash and a clash and a ladylike smash.
Her darling was bloodied,
pink ruffled dress muddied,
(the one she had just worn to church).
She had taken a lurch and fell from her perch
way up high in the old apple tree,
a place she was not meant to be.
Only grannie superheroes can give healing kisses
to cute little, sweet little, bad little misses,
but that is exactly what grandma's will do--
grab you up quick with loud hullabaloos,
and before you know it, you're better! It's true!
Just because super grandma really loves you.
But--one thing all grand kids need to remember:
grandma will love you the year through--to December!
You don't have to be bad and fall from a tree
to get super kisses from super old me.
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, August 3, 2014
A bandoned, abased facing failure
C alculating catastrophic paper
R ecycling thoughts recreate some ideas
O bsolete thinking antique panacea
S agacity scripted by greased lightning pen
T ablespoons filled with some of that cayenne
I dealize the idealogy of wise men
C onsider acrostic power write again
Thanks PD for the challenge
Written: July 14, 2014
Feeling kinda cruddy, yup, that's the word
Too many fries, too many burgs
When will I learn I can't handle that stuff
Stomach rebels, starts causing a fuss
Once could eat nails and all kinds of gunk
Now I eat mush and ground up junk
My teeth are all gone, can't chew anymore
Things go down whole, my tummy gets sore
So such is the life of this senior type dude
Head for the washroom, each time I eat food
Food disappears like famous greased lightning
Or I sit there for hours, really quite frightening
Irregularity's my name, I'm Irreg for short
Hope an operation, I don't have to resort
An artificial esophagus transplanted in me
So I can go regular like it once used to be
Oh for the days when I could eat all that junk
Those days are gone, who woulda thunk
That one day I'd be eating my morning cereal
Laced with Metamucil or some such material!
© Jack Ellison 2012