Seen on my walk – a delivery truck
Was being unloaded. One box
Was plunked on the ground; some may be out of luck
For its eggs might have suffered some shocks.
Another block on, there was parked on the street,
With a fender that suffered a wham!
A new pick-up truck named, just to make it complete,
In big letters, you guessed it – a RAM!
Saw three pickleball games and a guy with green hair –
Just a typical 6 a.m. sight.
In the city, no matter the time, you’ll be where
Something’s sure to surprise or delight.
it is a hovel now, due to the work of a poltergeist
once a home, it is plunked in the middle of despair
the copper wiring was pulled out ten years ago
it is a vacated domicile which probably still house the jokester
no one has been inside for years; too many horror stories
We approach it from the east; in the background we see orange
at first I think there must be electricity, then I realize it is sun up
surely the poltergeist is gone, my companion says.
His voice is smiling, I can hear it.
He does not believe in malarky
There is an ambiance about this shanty I cannot describe
a feeling that has no name; I walk a bit slower now
reluctance is the closest name I can come up with
yet it is not enough; terror and fear and reluctance
I decide not to go inside; feeling the entity is still there
waiting with sharp teeth, ready to climb on my back
I fear he will return to my home and turn it into a lean-to
I think that if you asked today,
Have piggy banks become passe,
The answer, if I had to guess,
Would be a most resounding Yes!
For coins are just no longer used
And kids might even be confused
Or maybe slightly take offense
If teeth were swapped for fifty cents.
Yet in my home, four banks still sit,
Each one with varied coins in it,
Plunked one by one into the slot
Which, back in childhood, meant a lot.
Today I dumped them out, then stacked
The coins in piles, using tact,
So neither grandkid throws a fit
Because I made an equal split.
I chose two banks and loaded in
Half dollar coins that once had been
Their father’s long-forgotten stash,
Now hardly recognized as cash.
sweet puppy is lying next to me in my recliner
we are sharing a pillow
I use it to hold my I-pad
he plunked his head on a large corner of it
He is like a baby furnace
I stroke his soft hair as he sleeps
Both of us content in front of a droning TV showing nothing important
Jealousy plunked down in one giant splat
Angry with blue, green, red and yellow
Especially yellow who thought she was all that
Jealousy was enraged to her toes
Her hatred easily seen
Yellow had no idea
Three shiny-loving crows found a perch, and plunked their talons down
Two had landed on a rusty antique pick-up truck – Tom and Town.
Their cousin Lee had found a place to sit on a telephone pole.
Bragging, laughing and sharing stories was their goal.
Their stories were bawdy, and funny, fowl-like and fine.
By the time the sun began lowering, they had told forty-nine.
Cawing, squawking, crackling creaky beak laughs floated in the air.
Let’s meet here Wednesday said Lee, if you two married ones dare.
She promenaded in wearing a cake on her head
This made us all laugh except dour uncle Ted
Happy birthday she sang in a high soprano voice
What did she say? Asked hard-of-hearing old Royce.
With a flourish she plunked the cake onto a table.
A distant cousin, our cake-designing wonder Miss Mable.
We were all glad she had come, and brought us this fine cake.
We gave grandpa a party, and a tasty chocolate shake.
poor black moor fish was not dead
sewer-landed on his head
quickly began upward swim
couldn’t get rid of little him
toilet is churning husband said
his mouth an oh, his face all red
a monster I bet he yelled out
followed by a swear and shout
He began to plunge away
then I heard him yell out “hey!”
Is that your black moor? To me
I ran to see, I ran to see.
It was surely my black Betsy!
I scooped her up with lots of glee
plunked her back in with goldfish, Brewer.
He began to scream she smelled like a sewer.
I rarely pay for things in cash,
Although some stores prefer it.
They charge more for a credit card,
So customers deter it.
But at the local bagel shop,
I placed my morning order
And realized that, when tallied,
I’d be somehow short a quarter.
I asked the counterman to please
Remove one single bagel,
To prove I wasn’t out to,
By some method, well, finagle.
He smiled and said, ‘You’ll bring to me
The quarter when you’re able,”
Not wanting to deprive me of
A bagel at my table.
I walked back home and quickly grabbed
A quarter from the pile
And at the shop, I plunked it down,
Which earned a startled smile.
The whole exchange reminded me
Of childhood; before supper,
To hit the grocer’s for some bread,
I was the picker-upper.
I carried change and worried that
I might be short some money.
The fact it happened now, not then,
Is really kind of funny.
Someone’s sitting on my bench!
Of course, it isn’t mine
And so the person perching on it
Isn’t out of line.
Still, every time I’m out here,
It’s the place I choose to sit
And plunked down someplace else
I’m liking not one little bit.
There’s really nothing I can do
But grumble and complain.
(From giving in to baser moves,
I simply must refrain.)
the fishing pole is ready
my victims are as good as in my mouth
her little mind was heady
on her way, she turned down south
the birdies chirped throughout the dale
April approaching made March less grim.
Night crawlers were singing in their pail
Not knowing what was in store for them.
the fishing pole was plunked into the water.
Bass and bluegill fought over the worms.
A terrific day for a fisherman’s daughter.
Enough lunch for six pachyderms.
She was trying to sell her house and she thought it would be easy
Until she noticed what was in the yard of her neighbor Mrs. Breezy
Into her front yard Breezy had plunked a mooning pumpkin man.
Gawkers and house-hunting lookers drove off as fast as a human can.
Grandmother elephant’s sneezes were loud and long.
They came from her gut and they were incredibly strong.
They started the moment she put on her new hat someone said.
You mean the floral arrangement that is plunked down on her head?
There were lilies and cone flowers and roses too.
The flowers were in pastels, scarlet, pink and winterly blue.
She has hay fever, she is allergic! Said her doctor. Take it off her head
Wind sitters plunked themselves down in wheat fields every spring
This one had a seasoned look, we knew knowledge she would bring.
She had a kind face. Her skin was thin and heavenly white.
Her eyes were azure, and she wore flowers in pinks; she felt all right.
We sat down beside her, putting our clothes around ourselves.
She felt mysterious, her mystique was whispered to us by the elves.
The faeries too were delighted with this beautifully calm wind sitter.
Without saying a word, my attitude and mood became a little less bitter.
It is just a simple hole in the wall wand shoppe, the older lady said.
We smelled the magic in there, and I felt a tiny thump on my head.
It’s a cat, and it looks vicious whispered my cousin, Old Ripe Red.
Too busy to care, I asked if I could sample a bit of fresh pumpkin bread.
Oh, sure, the older lady said. She was not wearing a cape or hat.
Is she a witch? Hissed my scaredy cat cousin, Little Timmy Pat.
Who cares? I asked. I plunked myself down in a closet beside a bat.
The bat flew past me and chased off the happy hat-sitting cat.
Would you like a job, Dearie? The old lady asked, looking at me.
I said, “Would it include pumpkin bread and hot lemon tea?”
She nodded her head, and I asked how much magic there would be.
That would depend on your gifts, so I said, “You just hired me!”
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