Walk With Me

(Written upon request of Mad Kane's "walking" prompt.)

Walk With Me

(A Haiku for You)

Let’s walk together;
Stroll by my side at midnight,
No one else around.

Whisper secrets here;
I will never tell a soul,
Except my own heart.

The moon lights our way,
Walking on the empty lane.
What could be better?

CAPTION:
"Starry Night Over the Rhone,"
by Vincent Van Gogh (c1888)

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A Stroll That's Droll

(Written upon request of Mad Kane's "walking" prompt.)

A Stroll That's Droll

(A Limerick on My Sidekick)

This morning, as we were out walking,
My pony and I were a-talking.
He let out a neigh,
But I said, “No way!”
And our friends all thought us laughing-stocking.

c2008 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Image:
Photo by LAN/Nickers and Ink. All rights reserved.

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Sadie Hawkins Day - Leap Year

(Written upon request of Mad Kane's "time" prompt.)

Sadie Hawkins Day –
A Limerick on Leap Year

The passage of time, each four years,
Reduces most menfolk to tears.
They wait for the chance
To be asked to the dance,
By women who swallow their fears.

A bit of history:

Who was Sadie Hawkins, and how did she come to be associated with Leap Year?

Sadie Hawkins Day originated in November 1937 in the “Li’l Abner” comic strip by cartoonist and humorist Al Capp. Part of the much-loved Dogpatch U.S.A. citizenry, Capp’s Sadie Hawkins was called “the homeliest girl in the hills.” Her father, Hekzebiah Hawkins, grew concerned that his ugly daughter might remain an old maid, so he made a plan.

Hekzebiah Hawkins created an annual foot race. All of the town’s single girls would chase the local bachelors. Each young lady would marry the man she caught. (Of course, fathers with shotguns were present as added motivation for matrimony.)

Within a few years, hundreds of American colleges and universities had picked up on the craze and held Sadie Hawkins Day dances, or turnabouts. For one day, it became socially acceptable for a woman to ask a man to join her on a date.

Although it was originally celebrated in November, eventually, Sadie Hawkins Day became linked with Leap Year, on February 29^th. Every four years, according to the tradition, women are encouraged to invite men to mingle or even marry.

Although historians differ somewhat on the origins of the Leap Year link, the general consensus points to Sts. Bridget and Patrick, both of Ireland. Apparently, St. Bridget complained to St. Patrick about the social restrictions on women, forcing them to wait for a man’s proposal of marriage. St. Patrick instituted a plan, whereby women might propose marriage to men during a Leap Year. Irish legend indicates that, during the next Leap Year, St. Bridget actually proposed to St. Patrick!

Fusing these two turnabout traditions, popular practices eventually found their home on February 29^th, every four years.

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Ageless - A Leap Year Haiku

(Written upon request of Mad Kane's "time" prompt.)

Ageless - A Leap Year Haiku

Words for a Gal With a Great Rationale

How does she do it?
She’s always so much younger.
Her Leap Year birthday.

CAPTION:

My friend is young and sweet,
And yet, beneath her feet,
She walks the wire,
Ever higher,
As the years repeat!

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His Perfect Passion

(Upon request for Sunday Scribblings.) 

His Perfect Passion -
A Rhyming "Whoa" on Love Let Go


"Real cowboys never run. They just ride away."
Traditional Cowboy Proverb

In the ring, the lightning flashed,
As humankind and nature clashed.
His style was rugged, free of fashion;
Peril was his perfect passion.

With fiercest fight, he held on tight;
The mount beneath him took to flight.
He met the ride, a-rolling, crashin' -
Peril was his perfect passion.

She loved him once, but didn't dare
Determine if he'd cause to care.
His heart was held with roped-in ration;
Peril was his perfect passion.

She eyed him often, cutting loose,
Aware they'd come to no good use.
He had no room for kind compassion;
Peril was his perfect passion.

Still, in her dreams, the cowboy rode,
And in her soul, his ember glowed.
But as she'd wake, her heart a-thrashin',

Peril was his perfect passion.

At last, her heart was broken, tamed,
And then her surname changed, reclaimed.
To see the match, his face was ashen,
But peril was his perfect passion.
Copyrighted by Linda Ann Nickerson

Image:

A Bad Hoss

by Charles Marion Russell

1904

Library of Congress/public domain

Licensed to Drive

Have a student driver in the home? Perhaps you remember your own driving test.

I swear, upon my driver's license, that this is a TRUE story!

Licensed to Drive -
A True Story in Rhyme,
But It Oughta Be a Crime!

My sixteenth birthday finally came.
With three ID's that bore my name,
I prayed not to be put to shame
And headed out, my card to claim.

Arriving at the DMV
To take my test and beg and plea,
An older dame waved, "Pardon me,"
And cut the line, ahead of me.

Her four-door Buick was a tank;
The rear-end bumper sagged and sank.
And, if I were completely frank,
She drove the thing just like a crank.

We sat in line and hoped to pass.
Her turn arrived; she hit the gas
And ran her car right through the glass,
Which shattered clear out to the grass.

Her Buick landed on one side;
The staff, they laughed until they cried.
The lady, certainly tongue-tied,
Was on-the-spot disqualified.

The testing clerk was unimpressed.
He wiped his eyes and called out, "Next."
And just in case you haven't guessed,
With flying colors, I passed my test!

(OK, so this wasn't yesterday . . . . but it's still a true story!)


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The Glow - On Moon's Eclipse and Lost Guilt Trips

Be sure to watch the night skies for a lunar eclipse on February 20, 2008, at 10:26 p.m. (EST). A full lunar eclipse may only occur during a full moon. The next full lunar eclipse is not expected until December 21, 2010. Click here for a full schedule.

The Glow -
On Moon's Eclipse
and Lost Guilt Trips

Can real joy be eclipsed by experiences?

"If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,'
even the darkness will not be dark to You;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to You."
(Psalm 139:11-12)

The moon's eclipse had masked my soul,
As longings lunged for full control.
I dared not open up my eyes,
Afraid to view the dark night skies.

In taxing turmoil, sorrows black,
From whence there seemed no turning back,
The lunar light lent no assist,
To offer reason to exist.

Despair then threatened to destroy,
Obliterating all my joy.
Entrenched in mire to my chin,
I sensed, in sorrow, guilt as sin.

Until the Sun of Light arose,
Just how, 'tis Heaven only knows.
But inner life bestowed a seed,
And from regrets, I then was freed.

The moon's eclipse and dark most foul
May never make me bay and howl.
My soul is well, though once 'twas sick.
I need not be a lunatic!

My course is set upon the Son,
Who every victory yet has won.
Though darkness threaten, I can stand
Complete with Heaven's helping hand.

A glow of life surrounds me now,
Arising from a solemn vow.
His covenant, it makes me swoon,
Far greater than the changing moon.

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A Rude Awakening

To mark President's Day in the United States, let's take a look at how life might look from behind the great big desk in the Oval Office in the West Wing of the White House in Washington, D.C. Can you just imagine? Do we have a clue?

A Rude Awakening -
A Rhyme Picturesque from the President's Desk

"Do not tell secrets to those
whose faith and silence
you have not already tested."
Queen Elizabeth I
(1533 - 1603)

First day on the job, in the President's shoes
Must be so much more than the public construes.
Advisors will gather; the Cabinet will meet
To bind up his hands and put chains on his feet.
Conspiracy theories and rumors may fly
Among all who see not through his private eye.

"Guess who has pictures, and guess who has oil.
And guess who has weapons, right here on our soil!"

For treaties are made in a confidence deep.
No wonder the President suffers ill sleep!
As despots and moguls shake hands in the dark,
The President paces inside his landmark.
The vows that he took and the promises made
May be broken in light of advice from an aide.

"Guess who has pictures, and guess who has oil.
And guess who his weapons, right here on our soil!"

Still, many desire this position extolled,
To stand in the great Oval Office threshold,
Where secrets and strategies closely are kept,
And issues and truths may be lost and sidestepped.
The sly power-mongers, who stand close behind,
Are ready to turn a new President's mind.

So here's some wise counsel, whoever may win:
"Select your friends wisely, before you're sworn in!"


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Knock-Knock Know-How

"Knock-Knock!"

The weekend is here! Just for fun, we're taking a look at knock-knock jokes.

The secrets to knock-knock jokes are twofold: wordplay and timing. Here are a few examples of our favorites for all ages, both comical and corny, to elicit either chuckles or groans from punsters or pundits.

After all, when it comes to knock-knocks, you either love 'em, or you hate 'em, but you certainly will repeat 'em!

Knock-Knock Know-How

"Knock-knock."
"Who's there?"
"Sally."
"Sally Who?"
"Sally-brate good times, come on! It's a Sally-bration!"

"Knock-knock."
"Who's there?"
"Hatch."
"Hatch Who?"
"Gesundheit! Need a Kleenex?"

"Knock-knock."
"Who's there?"
"Water."
"Water Who?"
"Water you doing in my house?"

Disappointed Diners

Since today is Valentine's Day, it seems only right to issue this culinary warning to all who plant to dine out tonight. Perhaps you will fare better with your fare!

If you and your sweetie plan a sortie to your own favorite eatery, may you enjoy your meal!

Disappointed Diners - A Rhymed Recourse for a Rejected Course

The menu made it sound delicious,
But what they brought was simply vicious.
The food was cold, the meat too rare.
The vegetables were bland, I swear.

We flagged the waiter and sent it back.
The chef, he had a panic attack.
The plate returned with extra spice
And hair that seemed to belong to mice.

The meat was covered
with something gooey,
The vegetables looked quite mildewy.
The garnish resembled some kind of foam.
I paid the bill and ate at home.
Copyrighted by Linda Ann Nickerson

Image:

Public domain artwork

He's a Dog

In honor of Valentine's Day, here's a bit of comic relief.

He's a Dog -
A Poetic Parting Shot

They say a dog's a man's best friend,
And truer words were never penned.
I loved a man, who loved his dog,
And so I left him, on his Hog.

He was a snarly furry thing,
Who suffered hard from static cling.
His dog was worse and loved to bite,
Particularly overnight.

He loved to saunter on the prowl;
He'd see a lovely thing and howl.
His dog was not so ill behaved,
Except for certain treats he craved.

He doted on that nasty mutt,
Which made my case open-and-shut.
Because he favored his pooch more,
I showed that dirty dog the door!

I fired up that bike and sped
Before resorting to bloodshed.
He's in the dog house now, for good,
And I have dropped him like dead wood.

They say a dog's a man's best friend,
And truer words were never penned.
I loved a man, who loved his dog,
And so I left him, on his Hog.
c2008 by Linda Ann Nickerson 

Worthy Wealth

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men." (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Lord, please grant that I may leave footprints in souls, not merely in the soil. Make my life count for eternity, for Your Name's sake. Amen.

Worthy Wealth -
A Cinquain on True Gain

What really matters?

Blessing
Finding Favor
Seeing, Sharing, Sowing
Leaving Marks for Eternity
Worthy


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Nick-Mom.minti.com

Muscling into Fitness

It seems as if everyone is getting all pumped up about exercise these days. Maybe we're trying to burn off all those Christmas calories. We might be attempting to earn the dietary rights, in advance, to eat the Dove chocolate roses, Godiva chocolates, Whitman's Samplers and sassy Sweethearts conversation hearts that will possibly come our way on Valentine's Day. Anyway, we are all exercising our aerobic abilities to get into tip-top shape.

Muscling into Fitness - An Exercise in Rhyme

My doctor says to exercise;
I look in the mirror with gawking eyes.
Once I had biceps and iron thighs,
But now I can only rationalize.

I'm so out of shape that I think I would hurt,
And I can't seem to find a single clean shirt.
Besides, I wouldn't want to overexert.
Frankly, I'd much rather eat my dessert.

Guilt doesn't work, and it's not just the cash.
I'd like to go back to the gym in a flash,
But I'm afraid I'd develop a rash
Or lift and grunt into whiplash.

Workouts simply take too darn long,
Waiting in line for machines, to get strong
With guys that are built like old King Kong.
It's just a place I don't belong.

My sneakers are old, and they give me a blister.
Besides, I'm still not as fat as my sister.
I think I might need a breathing assister,
Or maybe a no-membership black-lister.

The guys might ogle my leotard,
As I struggle to make my flabby form hard.
And my body's rather battle-scarred
From years of fitness disregard.

OK, so I'll get up and go to the gym,
'Cause it's true about fitness, "You sink or you swim."
c2008 by Linda Ann Nickerson

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