Dedicated to Witchypoo
P. Avium
But, that’s not what I call you.
I lust after you,
Dark red and sweet
And day dream
That your trees
Line my street.
I consume you
By the pound
In quantities that
Would astound.
When on sale
For a mere,
99 cents a pound.
No, this poetry thing
Is not my forte,
Yet, after sitting and
Eating them all day,
This, I can
Assuredly say,
I like the sweet ones,
Not the tart.
What’s that noise?
Why, that’s a fart.
Love the poetry! Well, the loose translation of poetry, I guess.
Tried to figure out your rhythm and figured it was for a Texas two-step, and since I’m not really a fan… well, you know.
I like to read your blog
Because my mind you tend to jog
Your rhymes are sweet, not tart
I bet you’re thinking I’m gonna fart
So with that I shall surely go
And find something to do with the play-doh
Yes that may sound childish and immature
but it’s better than playing with manure!
Bye-bye
Roger´s last blog ..Why Government is Evil
LMAO. Im married to a poet. That is funny.
My recent visit to the Lone Star State gave me new, positive insight about the region. Now this just pretty much shot that all to Hell. :>)
It’s good you associate me with farts. Fruit farts smell like fruit, no matter what yours smell like.
witchypoo´s last blog ..Mocking my Dead Mother
Snort. I remember you tweeting about cherry farts, but seriously…this is beyond even *that* gem.
Ree´s last blog ..Honest Rebellion
You are quite talented! I love cherries too, but grapes even more.
grandma j´s last blog ..
You crack me up silly! I love silly! Cherry fart tarts???
I hope you wiped.
Fruit farts are often times a little juicy.
Hyphen Mama´s last blog ..WWYD?