Rhymes, Rants & Accolades from North Central BC

TRAILER PARK BLUES (1970S)

The sewers plugged, they said to me
It’s causing some disharmony
The trailers at this end and down
Are “flushing” mostly on the ground

Be prepared, quite soon, to move
The backhoe has to dig a groove
Although your plumbing’s doing fine
There’s “dirty water” down the line!

They yanked my trailer and they tugged
It finally budged from snow and mud!
On the road it sat that day
And there, I thought, we’d have to stay!

That night when it was getting dark
They found a spot for us to park
We slept that night before we knew
Of our new “panoramic” view!

The trailer court is on a hill
Man-made from many tons of fill
Our kitchen rested in its place
Our bedrooms hung way out in space!

The baffle, loosened from the tow
Unknown to us had slipped below
For one whole day our furnace ran
Before it “frazzled” up its fan

Our home was mobilized once more
To a space that fits our floor
The sundeck that I built last Fall
Is yours – if you can find it all!

Our skirting will no longer fit
Our water freezes where we sit
And lately I have seen a sign
Of “dirty water” down the line!!

Christmas Bus Trip [1970s]

Alarm clock bells, alarm clock bells,
We must be on our way
Oh what sense is it to ride,
A Greyhound bus today!

Waiting in the snow,
For a crowded Greyhound bus,
Today the bus is slow,
‘Cause it’s the Christmas rush!

Cars on highways slide,
Headlights shining bright,
What a drag to rise and ride
A Greyhound bus to-night!

Meeting relatives:

Verses 1-7 Refer to eighth verse.

Verse 8: On the eighth day of Christmas
My true love met with me
Eight aunts and uncles!
Seven sister’s siblings!
Six kissing cousins!
Five adult offspring!
Four grandkids growing!
Three son-in-laws!
Two brand new babies!
And in every house a
Christmas turkey!

I wish that I could hibernate
And pass up winter’s frozen state
I think that I would have the weight
From Xmas goodies that I ate.

It would be nice to sleep in late
And waken at a warmer date
When all the land is green again
I would wake up and I’d be thin!

SCRIBBLERS PROJECT: Use the word serendipity in a poem.

“What rhymes with ‘serendipity,’ I ask my husband?

“Stupidity,” he replies, not looking up from his crossword puzzle.

“That doesn’t rhyme properly,” I retort. “It doesn’t have enough syllables.

“I need to compose something for our Scribbler’s project,” I explain. “Perhaps a poem or maybe even a song.

“What was that song Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke sang in the Mary Poppins’ movie? You know the one. It was a word… Sounded a bit like serendipity?”

“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” he mutters, obviously not that interested.

“No, not that one… Now I remember! “It was chim-chiminey-chim-chiminey-chim-chim-cheroo….I think I can substitute the word “serendipity” into the lyrics.

Seren-dip-ity, seren-dip-ity, seren-dip-ity, seren- doo,

There’s snow on the ground and I’m feeling blue

Seren-dip-ity, seren-dip-ity, seren-dip-ty, seren-doo

I’m yearning for Spring and I’m sure you are too!

THE LEMMING (silly poem#44)

Why is the lemming sometimes idle
While other times he’s suicidal?
Is he really that depressed
As he heads east, or south, or west?
Swimming with no hesitation
To a watery destination.
Does he die a planned statistic
Or is he just too optimistic?

Facebook friends are getting younger
‘Cause it’s their childhood I remember
That skinny kid on our school-bus
Was teased but never made a fuss
A square peg in a rounded hole
Taunting could have bruised his soul
But he grew up and l heard tell
He’d married and they’d managed well

His profile pic shows wear and tear
And aging’s greyed my new friend’s hair

An image looms inside my head
Of his father- now long dead
The darkroom way back in my brain
Develops ancient film again…
I was a child- they were our neighbors
We’d visit when the kids were babies
The mother laughed and joked and swore
The father’s words were just ignored

I heard he had a goodly life
After he divorced his wife.

INSIDE OUR HOUSE WHEN IT WAS 38 BELOW

Windows mottled
Frosted etchings
Of ethereal
Landscapes
Chilly drafts
Waft through
Infinitely tiny
Cracks and
Crevices
Door opens
Bitterly cold air
Attacks
Instantly
Overcoming warmth
Permeating clothing
Piercing
Unprotected flesh
Door slams shut-
Better not let any more
Of that outside air in!

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