Stumpy the squirrel awoke one day,
and stretched in his usual squirrelly way~
then froze with sudden dread.
My tail is gone! It’s disappeared!
That fluffy plume I’ve always cheered~
it’s vanished from my bed!
He searched the oak, he searched the pine,
he checked the clothesline (twice) for signs,
he even sniffed the air.
He asked a jay, Have you seen fluff~
a swishy, swooshy, poofy puff
that used to be right there?
The jay squawked back, I saw a breeze
run off with something soft as fleece~
it headed toward the creek!
Stumpy dashed so fast his paws were sparks,
he scoured every woodland park
till chipmunks came to speak:
Your tail’s right here, you silly nut~
it’s on your backside, firmly stuck!
Stumpy blushed a rosy hue.
He spun around—Well, mercy me!
My tail’s been right where tails should be
looks like my brain took leave of me—adieu!
in the sixties we girls wore our hair like poodles
teased it up in a poofy way curled and high
stuck a small velvet bow right in front
two inches above our noses
and thought we looked rather posh
not understanding we looked like fancy poodles
Shelly has a new perm from an old kit high on a shelf
It is a curly perm that somehow managed to feed itself
Every day there are more curls and it is poofy and round
It travels outward and upward, does not head for the ground.
What kind of a perm is it? Curious neighbors want to know.
The perm has a mind of its own, and has taken on quite a glow.
Now there is glitter, and streaks of color thanks to this perm boss.
Shelly stays silent; her powers of being in charge are a loss.
An Eiffel tower with a red bow popped up in the back
Of a head full of unauthorized ideas encouraged by whom?
Strings of pearls began lounging around, hanging from her poofy hair
Who is in charge of this dream? She asked her busy muse.
Tea kettles and pears, the muse replied tea kettles and pears.
She woke with a start. Sweat in the small of her back.
Her nightie clung to her chest, feeling scratchy.
She picked up an ink pen with lavender ink.
Heard the sound of her muse laughing.
There were no words now, no memories.
No ideas, nothing at all.
Heaven must be a library -
An acquaintance in boredom said -
With many open levels that are airy
And plush carpet on which to tread
With sliding ladders on the aisles -
Coffee on tap and a poofy chaise
On which to read the gilded titles
And infinite time to waste.
I replied I'd love to meet her there
To help explore the nooks and crannies
And she promised me she'd share -
To my surprise, spaces such as these.
That way, every now and then -
She could break from reading
And come find the alcove I'm in
To see how I'm doing.
poofy and pretty
dresses of the royal court
all her pretty things
untouched; the affable king
an ineffectual spouse
2/16/2021
*Teens when they married,
it took Louis XVI seven years
to have sex with his wife.
I’m a man of no great ambition
Often described as a proper
Piddly poof…
Piddly, poofy, Godawfully goofy
Shnickered and shnookered totally
Over the roof…
Being a bit of a dipstick, is my claim to fame
Not a hint of dignity
To my name…
To most men this would be… cause for dismay
But not for me
I like it this way…
I have no obligations
My days are totally free
I’m free as the birds in the trees…
I live like most men would love to be
Absolutely, resolutely, positootly
…free to be me…
In our late teens
We’d all doll up
Half moons at our heels
Spit shined our shoes
Bell bottom pants
Precisely creased
Bright shirts with poofy sleeves
Hitting the snooker halls
And other local hangouts
Smoking cigarettes
So groovy and so cool
Radio blaring from our cars
Chick magnets
Destination
A&W drivethru
Rolled down windows
Waiting for our trays
Burgers and root beer
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~RANDOM MUSINGS VOL.2~ 2020
AP: 3rd place 2021
Submitted on March 22, 2020 for contest STRAND CHOICE N sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 2ND
Cat
Stares at
The floor then
Smacks at the air
Jump, sprint poofy tail
Repeats process
Clearly she
Is so
Bored!
The snow crunches under my toes.
I feel like Frosty, wrapped up and poofy yet bitterly cold.
Cracking ice, frozen breath, my nose turns a painful pink.
I scoop up snow without gloves,
To examine each individuality...
My life-long curiousity with Wilson A. Bently's science.
My fingers tighten and prickle with cold,
so I follow animal tracks home.
I, bundled and cheerful,
Amble home from the frost to the hearth.
Today I feel a little goofy
Hair wild and is all poofy
I made oatmeal it is so sloppy
Have to drink it with my coffee
Can not walk as my feet are going flip floppy
No swimming either the water is to choppy
Ding dong no nothings wrong
My clock just went bing bong
If this poem to your face brought a smile
Or maybe you just laughed for awhile
Then please know that I am happy as well
As I am locked back up in my padded cell
"Straighten your sash
Don't wrinkle your dress
Listen when I scream at you
Just wait til I get you home"
Little girls in beautiflu dresses
Heavy make up, poofy hair
Some so young they don't know
It's their mom who wants them there
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