SALT . .. . ..
Salt on my food is not very good,
Physicians continuously say.
Martha Stewart uses, even in juices,,
salt in a mirade of ways.
I must insist that tomatoes permit
a liberal dousing of salt.
but when abused and salt not used,
tomatoes are highly at fault.
And soda crackers with their shiny tops,
it's salt that makes that sheen.
To have them plain in my domain
seems a crime to humanity.
Oh yes, I have seen those substitutes,
and it takes my breath away,
To think that people are using those
each and every day.
But my diets not fit unless I sit
at a table with pepper and salt.
And my pressure goes higher
my mind on firer when I think that I might halt.
So, get off my back! Don't lead your attack offering oregano and fenugreek.
I'll just look away and be satisfied to say,
I'm a faulted, salted sneak freak.
Virginia Lynn Kerr 2009
My fist is clenched, the veins protrude
Around the leash of my dog, sweet Gertrude.
We are approaching the well know place
Where cats run amuck and fly in your face.
A dangerous path, that every night,
We need to pass quickly and get out of sight.
For around the bushes, the porches and stairs
Are the calicos, the Manx’s and the black short haired.
This is their turf, their homes and they demand
That if you intrude, you are taking your health in you hand.
Not a dog in the world would refuse this walk,
For his honor is at stake, his growl and his bark.
No where else can he let go “full dog”,
Hair raised, collar tight, a beast in the fog.
Me… I am just along for the ride,
But I admit that screeching cats scare me alive.
Never is Gertrude so virile and strong,
So wanting to ravage those cats and all along,
I am counting the doorways,
Three then two and then one.
One more evening walk,
Thank goodness that’s done.
Virginia Lynn Kerr
These poems are my strange sense of humor creeping out on a page. They are protected by a copy right, and I would appreciate you not using them without permission. Thank you Lynn
I have arranged my garden to match my varied pests.
It was not hard to do.
Just look around at those tasty leaves,
the slugs all think so too.
So, I have planted dandelions instead of precious flowers,
and in all my decorator pots, weeds that aphids will not dervour.
For color I have plastic geraniums, no water and they are not frail,
and in the morning with robe adorned, I drink my coffee, not looking for a snail.
I love those tall Iris, Cosmos and the Roses Queen,
they bloom early for me and I take them out to clean.
In the fall I change my turf to beige with an with an orange hue,
sweep up those foreign leaves and put Chrysanthemums to view.
Oh yes, I still have visitors, but they hate that plastic grass,
and I enjoy my garden instead of working off
my arse. :o)
Virginia Lynn Kerr
A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN
I use this cream at night that is supposed to me beautiful.
For 20 minutes while exerting muscular tension throughout the neck region, holding eyes in a heavenly angle - posture relaxed but poised in a sitting position, thinking thoughts of delight, I gently apply the cream from a little silver jar. Stroke after stroke and stroke.
Shoot, is that all it takes !
Virginia Lynn Kerr
Fannies are “in”, just look around
In thongs, in swimsuits, in briefs they abound.
They swing, they sway, and they pound to the beat
That rear that appears is always in retreat.
When Adam and Eve first discovered the trees,
The first thing they covered was above their knees.
Since then it’s been buttoned, bustled and beat,
Browsed, burdened and busted into defeat.
In refined circles, the sight of some britches
Brought giggles to ladies and the men got the itches.
Fannies were once a word whispered its true,
But no longer are Fannies just a location on you.
Now it’s toushes, and hinnies and of course the posteriors,
Your seat, you tail end- no rear ends are inferior.
Rump, a tutu, a backside or a bottom,
Some are quite generous and others don’t got ‘em.
Don’t forget buns, buttocks or your tail,
And whatever they call that thing up on the nail.
No longer shunned, butt sunned in the nude,
Brown, round and sunny or back haired and rude.
Humanity arise! Learn to live with butt masses
A world of people and we all have our arses.
A MAP PLEASE
I want a road map to this life. One with yield sign, sharp turns ahead and especially dangerous curves and detours.
This trip seems pretty complex with few rest stops and a lot of knobby tracks to cross.
I did not ask for the ability to have these directional decisions, and, had I been born elsewhere my energies would have been curtailed for survival.
Those exotic folk know the road from the time they are born. Having all these red lines, blue line decisions, exits, overpasses and left had turns printed on my thigh, would make treading into my future a lot more secure.
AHHHHHH but could I get it folded
Virginia Lynn Kerr 2011