MUFFIN AND A MATCH
Of course, we went to Red Lobster later for dessert.
You like seafood or steak, how about mushrooms or margaritas? Well, me too, so I had a surf and turf; for dessert topped with 2 huge margaritas on the rocks, no salt of course, sodium you know. Anyway, dessert was fine, my wife drove me home and I crashed out like a big dog. That is a birthday to disremember.
Ain’t no better than muffin and a match,
Sulfur aroma big cake cannot catch.
Muffin tasty, no nasty sugar on it,
Birthday just my style, sort of like this sonnet.
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I am writing number two in my series of marital discord blogs and poems.
Marital disharmony came to mind as I walked up the drive the other night.
Big game today, or every day for us patriots.
A short 55 years have passed since last I shot myself, seems like only yesterday.
I’ve always been a dog man, oh don’t get me wrong, cats are ok but they just aren’t loyal like a dog, so we had dogs.
A man in church with my wife listened to the sermon and remarked how he guessed we are all “second string angels.”
I’m full up on taking crap and keeping my mouth shut.
My fanciful love story, don’t you love this this time of year!
For some reason, I started thinking about a chicken in the hen-house.
My mind works in devious fashion sometimes, and this one came out at my wife’s request.