Long Hit the sack Poems
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Stargate Worm Hole closes in an hour, she warned, don’t get too comfy.
I rolled my eyes, and dug down deeper into my warmth, choosing me.
It’s truly something you will never forget, the phantom voice said.
I took grandma’s cozy quilt and quickly covered my shoulders and head.
My spirit guide smiled of unbeknownst, I was working out her plan.
My dream coaxed me to travel to Stargate Worm Hole, in outer space land.
I was on a blue bus, the year 1952 or possibly fifty three, I was not sure.
One thing for certain, we were on an astral bridge, and feelings were pure.
The time was innocent; I was blatantly gawking with reverence and awe.
We were in space where the stars were closing in, and feelings were raw.
This is the Stargate Worm Hole, my spiritual guardian in sweet way said.
I was soon in REM sleep, snoring in a delightfully rhythm, almost fully dead.
Whenever you want to relax, you can will your imagination to come back.
My guardian angel told me. Just let me know when you hit the sack.
So now my nights are filled with innocent, and good old 1950’s fun.
And I am more than fully relaxed when rooster gets me up with sun.
Never
would it fail
that that child
would have a knack
of waiting
until he hit the sack
before heaving up
a whole day's worth
of snacks,…..splat !!
So much for sheets and new bedspread!
It was always,
this same kid
who declared he had to pee
after you had spent
twenty-five minutes
repairing his zipper
and squeezing his chubby butt cheeks
into his grubby snow suit!
But, sometimes
he would sit in your lap for awhile
at the end of a long day
scrubbed, fresh from the tub
smelling of soap and perfection
yawning without much conviction
filling your heart with emotion
until it could burst with devotion
and then ...
you'd always, always, always, be thankful
that you were his mom
____________________________________________________________
Inspired by Contest: "Never-Always-Sometimes
Sponsor: John Lawless
2/16/16
AFTER THE PARTY
After the party I awoke on a desert island
At least I thought so, with the blinding sun
And a view of all those swaying palm trees
Well, perhaps it was me who was swaying
My head was thumping as if bongos playing
And wet with sweat at over eighty degrees
I guess that last night must have been fun
But just where I am now, I don’t understand
Perhaps it’s the Tahitian picture on the wall
And the bright morning sun is streaming in
I am wearing my underpants front to back
Probably a game, or a sort of joke on me
But is that the ocean out there that I can see
Maybe it was daybreak before I hit the sack
So many cocktails made with pink hued gin
It’s such a pity I cannot think straight at all
There’s still noisy laughter outside in the hall
Just the usual cheap upper floor motel room
It may be my own, I suppose I should check
My mouth is so dry and my head is spinning
Have I been drunk from the very beginning
But is this a floral garland around my neck
It can only be my vivid imagination, I assume
I’m not on an exotic tropical island after all
My friend lived in a different city
We hadn’t met, seemed an eternity.
In my dream once he said he’d come,
Revive the old memories over rum.
He came on the day he said he would,
I found him smiling in a happy mood.
As he appeared from behind the winter mist
We felt how much of each other we missed.
He didn’t enter my house then, however,
Said he’d return after work, whenever.
I waited until at night I hit the sack,
But my friend didn’t come back.
I went to his place to solve the mystery,
Found his wrecked wife trying to behave easy,
Said, he died a year ago, but hadn’t gone away.
I ran out of the haunted house, a word I couldn’t say.
September 27, 2019
Let me tell you about my Uncle Berty
His chat up lines are far from flirty
He has sparkling blue eyes and a wicked wit
But his chat up lines make him look a right twit
Where have you been all of my life?
I think you are stunning will you be my wife?
I don’t have any money…. how about you?
I’m short of cash .. lend me a dollar or two
Let me take you on a smashing date
We are meant for each other its all down to fate
How about McDonald’s for a Big Mac
When I take you home we’ll hit the sack
Your teeth are like stars they come out at night
Shall I cook you breakfast, it will be my delight
For some unknown reason his lines did not work
Try again Uncle Berty you look a right jerk
Contest:- Flirt Casarah Nance
07~14~15
At the end of the long and tiresome day,
before I hit the sack for the dreamful night,
after I finish all my work without much delay,
I go to see my old friend in the moonlight.
Before I hit the sack for the dreamful night,
I saunter to the stable not very far away.
I go to see my old friend in the moonlight,
hug the brown stallion to whom goodnight I say.
.
I saunter to the stable not very far away,
brush his satin face with my fur gray and white,
hug the brown stallion to whom goodnight I say.
I get saturated with sense of intense feline delight.
Brush his satin face with my fur gray and white,
after I finish all my work without much delay.
I get saturated with sense of intense feline delight,
at the end of the long and tiresome day.
May 1, 2020
GIF No. 2
Contest : Pantoum Rhyme-Personification
Sponsor : Eve Roper
I put on my shoes and socks
and gazed at my walnut music box,
and remembered a nut I tried to crack,
all day long, before I hit the sack.
I had tried to open it, but it stayed shut,
So, I said, "You really are a nut".
Of course, it's nuts just like these,
that you find growing on walnut trees.
Wouldn't it be funny if that little guy
grew into a walnut tree to the sky,
and a clockmaker in the neighborhood,
made a music box from its walnut wood?
I went to bed and thought some more,
but before I could begin to snore,
My music box began to play
"The Unquiet Grave", as dead I lay.
Today I Accomplished
(My first list poem- I hope)
By Franklin Price
5/16/2015
Today I accomplished this list of things
At least I hope so Looking back
As I lay my head on pillow
Close my eyes and hit the sack
Got out of bed this morning
Glad my body could still work
Walked into the kitchen
Got the coffee on to perk
Turned on the old computer
Wrote a rhyming poem or two
Retired and don't go to work
Writing's something that I do
Heard the wife awaken
Made us each a coffee cup
Hugged and kissed her a good morning
Glad that she had gotten up
Checked my friends on Facebook
Posted written poems on line
Entered this poem in the contest
Hope you'll think it's mighty fine
Finally got my old bod dressed
Went to work more on a deck
To make a place to barbeque
Sunscreened my face my arms my neck
Quit construction twelve o'clock
Took a shower changed my clothes
Went over to a friend of ours
To play some dominoes
Came home around dark thirty
Just my lovely wife and me
To spend some time together
With some popcorn and TV
Watched the news to end the day
Was not busy nor was slack
This is all that I accomplished
Before I hit the sack
Once upon a time, in a town not far from here,
on a day that was not bright, on a day that was not clear,
a boy was born, and the newspaper would say,
"It was a partly cloudy day."
Everybody said, "What an odd little feller".
So, one day, his mother took him to the fortune teller,
but she only said as she drew up her shawl,
"Suddenly, I have a partly cloudy ball."
He met her in the morning, early in the Spring,
and by and by, offered her a diamond ring,
but true love once more eluded -
the gem he gave was cloudy and occluded.
His heart was not broken. It just had a little crack.
He sighed and went home early. Then he hit the sack.
He didn't shed a tear or even cry -
he just blinked upon each partly cloudy eye.
In his head, he puzzled as he lay awake,
but life to him seemed hopelessly opaque,
and his confusion would enshroud
a mind partially covered by a cloud.
The years, one by one, eventually passed
by the bloke known for nothing but being overcast.
I'm sad to report that he died just yesterday.
The paper said, "It was a partly cloudy day".
My horse prances.
And she dances,
As she spins around
She looks graceful
And so tasteful
Her hooves hardly touch the ground
Her long eyelashes
She seductively flashes
As she lifts gently in the air
Her thick mane flowing
From a breeze that's blowing
She dances without care.
She is captivating.
Her audience is waiting,
For her to thrill them more.
The horse is tiring
The crowd desiring
For just one more encore,
A moment to ponder,
As away out yonder,
Voices are calling out
They sound worried,
Anxious and flurried,
Then they begin to shout.
"Daisy, where are you?"
We have all been searching,
Since a quarter past two
We need you to come home, old girl,
It's time to be fed.
From the distance
Daisy heard the call.
What a time she had
entertaining one and all.
She curtsied to her audience,
Then she made a bow.
Then she said, "I am sorry folks,
I have to leave you now,
I hope you enjoyed my performance,
I shall be coming back.
I am feeling tired,
I'm going home to hit the sack."