Where Bacon and Religion Intersect

I eat a pound of bacon
To start the day off right
And then a pound at dinner time
To get me through the night.
It fills me full of goodness,
A porcine piety,
Culinary righteousness
I think you would agree.

Short But Sweet (or Bitter)

I hate the Bears.
Harumph.  Who cares?

Lieku

I didn't do it.
Billy broke the vase.  I swear!
Am I in trouble?

Victorian Ode

The streets of dear London in bygone years
Were haunted by men with long sideburns.
They wore their nice suits, though frayed at the edge,
And kept close to their vests, taciturn.
Dickensian charmers with unlikely names
Like Picklesworth, Tweedle and Frump,
They ate porridge mornings and when evening came,
Ate stew with indefinite lump.
Black were their lungs from the soot in the air,
And pale was their skin from the fog,
Dickensian men who would gather at night
To drink ale at the Hare and the Hog.
Hail to these gents who have all passed away
Three cheers for their manners so couth.
They were Victorians down to the bone,
Great Englishmen all.  Yea, forsooth.

Ahhhhh

I wrote a paper, now it's done;
It's time for laziness and fun.
I'll hold the baby, change his pants
And read some electoral rants.
Life is good, yes all is right.
I hope the Yankees lose tonight!

Allergies

Allergies are like small invisible elves
Stuffing cotton balls up your nose
Then installing a water feature that flows (and flows).

Allergies are like little angry rodents
Making a den behind your eye
And stabbing you with pitchforks till you cry.

Allergies are like a thousand chickens
Pooping in an unventilated room.
They stink.

Pieku

Oozing hot rhubarb
Dolled up nicely with sugar,
Tart and delicious.

Cognitive Dissonance in Sporting Form

Skol Packers, let's win this game,
Skol Packers, honor your name,
Go get that first down,
Then get a touchdown.
Rock 'em . . . Sock 'em
Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!
Go Packers, run up the score,
You'll hear us yell for more. . .
P-A-C-K-E-R-S
Skol, Packers, let's go!

Baby at the Table

There's a baby at the table
Who doesn't know what's up.
Forks and knives and barbecues
And bottles of ketchup
Are sitting there and looking back
At his gaze perplexed.
"What are all these things about?
They've really got me vexed."
Worry not my babykins
For one day you shall eat
Not just milk from mama's breast,
But lots of yummy meat!

Short But Sweet

School starts today.
Yay.

Take it how you will.  ;)

A Wedding

I went to a wedding and what did I see?
A groom and a bride in their felicity,
Saying those vows with a calm savoir-faire
Promising always their whole lives to share.
The key to this bliss, the place where it starts
Is to serve one another with servant hearts
Like the Lord Jesus Christ, (as written by Paul).
Enjoy one another!  Go have a ball!

Words for the Wee One

It seems there are days when a baby decides
To leaven our lives with some tears.
Crying with vigor and patience to spare,
Eventually stirring up fears.
Is he unwell?  Has he gotten the bug?
Is there something that we haven't done?
Or is he just grouchy for reasons unknown?
Either way it isn't much fun.
So sleep little baby, I thee do entreat,
For the sake of your mother and me.
And sleep little babe, for the sake of yourself,
Lest your face freeze looking angry.