189 Blond Blooper

T.F.Simon

would probably be surprised to have his art associated with a joke but I had a hard time finding a Blond, a Redhead and a Brunette!

BLOND BLOOPER!

Picture, Readers, if you will, an island in the sea,

And three delightful castaways, sitting beneath a tree.

The first, called Rita, is brown-haired, while Cora's hair is red,

And Wilma is a natural blond, (at least, that's what she said.)

They've been cast-up on the island for many weary days

And they've had to entertain themselves in a multitude of ways.

In the picture they're sun-bathing, by a little island stream,

But I think they're taking quite a risk! I can't see sun-tan cream!

They're bored to tears just hanging-out and waiting to be found.

But what is this? They've found a bottle lying on the ground!

You guessed it, when they pop the cork, a Genie spirals out!

Which makes the girls excited; see them cavort and shout!

The Genie speaks to Rita first . 'What do you wish my dear?

Name your wish, for that's the reason I've been magicked here.'

'How I long to see my family!' cried Rita, straight away!

'Let me return to those I love!'... Said the Genie 'I obey.'

There was a flash, a thunder crash, and Rita zoomed back home

Making a vow, in transit, that nevermore she'd roam.

Now Cora said 'May I return to my own dear native land?'

Said the Genie' Straight away, my dear; your wish is my command.'

In a puff of smoke she disappeared, to Little Rock, Arkensas;

The little space where she had been was all that Wilma saw.

Finally it was Wilma's turn; she considered her request.

Of all the wishes she could make, which did she think the best?

The Genie waited then he said 'Is there nothing that you lack?'

'Well' said Wilma (she was blond)

'I wish  my friends were back'!

188. Hooray!

The Coming of the Next Ice-Age is hardly mentioned! The downturn in world financial affairs is uppermost in our minds, but that very Credit Crunch may put a stop to Global Warming! The future may be quite chilly!

HOORAY!

Hooray! That Global Warming's on the run!

Though the future doesn't look a lot of fun!

We over-stepped our boundaries

With oil-wells and with foundries

And with smoke that almost blotted out the sun.

Hooray! That Global Warming's in our sites!

We've been using far too many shining lights!

We now must all pay heed

To our gourmandising greed!

Look at us! We're scarcely fitting in our tights!

Hooray! That Global Warming will be licked!

Due to Credit Crunch some habits will be kicked!

No more multiplying cars!

No more spaceships off to Mars!

(Though it isn't quite the cure that I'd have picked!)

Hooray! That Global Warming seemed so dire!

Now poverty will help to quench the fire.

When once we learn to handle,

Evenings with just one candle

The thought of future cooling will inspire!

Hooray! Another Ice Age on the way!

But that is not encouraging to say!

What we heartily desire

Isn't ice and isn't fire!

We just wish that all this angst would go away!

187. Recipe in Rhyme 3: Sinful Supper

That British Woman alerted me to this recipe. But I felt I'd like to add some bacon pieces to it! So as not to adulterate her recipe and photo I looked for something similar and lo (!) here it is! I've changed the name too! The cream makes it sinful!

SINFUL SUPPER

  

In a skillet fry chopped onion,

With bacon bits, in margarine.

Toss some cheese with flour,salt, pepper.

Add the lot! Don't be too mean.

Take a bowl and blend together

Eggs with half-and-half or cream.

Add to mix with cooked potato

Smell that aromatic steam!

Now transfer this lovely mixture

To a 9 inch baking dish.

Medium heat for half an hour.

Maybe longer if you wish.

Cool it. Cut it into portions,

Garnish it with sprigs of thyme,

Serve it with a tasty salad

Hear them shouting
'IT'S SUBLIME!'

Ingredients: I cup finely chopped onion; handful grated cheese to taste; 4 cups diced cooked potatoes; 1/4 cup s.r flour; 3 eggs; 3/4 cup cream.

Extra! Extra!

 ABC WEDNESDAY.

P FOR PRESIDENT!

A Christian with a Muslem name!

A Black who's also White!

If he's a Crazy Mixed-Up-Kid

We'd better hang on tight!

186. Poor Puppet!

FOR ABC WEDNESDAY
'P' photos can be seen on my PLUS Blog.


POOR PUPPET!

A puppet's like a person but he isn't really real.

A puppet's just like people but he cannot think or feel.

He can look like a policeman or a man who bakes the pies,

Or the pilot of a jet plane as it flies around the skies.

A puppet has got fingers and a puppet has got toes;

A puppet has a mouth and eyes and podgy little nose,

But, though the poor old puppet has so many proper things,

It's just a pile of pieces when we let go of the strings.

A puppet can be painted or a puppet can be plain.

It can pop down in a pirouette and pop right up again.

But it cannot eat a pizza or go swimming in a pool

Or play on the piano like a pupil in a school.

A puppet needs a proper person pulling on the strings

When it performs in pantomimes and other party things.

It feels no pain or pleasure it can only just obey,

And its just a pile of pieces when its person walks away.

Extra! Extra!

The cover of our local paper this-morning says it all!

LET'S GET OUR PRIORITIES RIGHT!

There's a little race that's running over there in the U.S.A.

Something to do with Presidents; at least that's what they say.

But the most important race 

Is in quite another place.

It's 

THE MELBOURNE CUP!

'The race that stops the nation'!

Poignant Polka

Terri Moore was a fairly well-known film star 'in my day'. Did she ever gaze at this photograph, in her later years, and sense the melancholy that made me write this poem?

POIGNANT POLKA

Did anyone see her leaving?

The girl in the polka-dot dress?

Seeing's believing

That's true, I guess.

Did anyone see her going?

I looked and she was gone.

And a cold wind was blowing

Where the sun once shone.

The face in the photograph

Looks a little bit like mine.

But there I can trace a laugh,

And, here, a line.

Did anyone see her leaving?

I only know she left.

There's just one word for my grieving...

Bereft.

Did anyone hear that laughter

That hung on the sunny air?

Nothing, coming after,

Could quite compare.

Did anyone see her moving,

The swirl of a passing skirt?

Memory is proving

That time can hurt.

The face that I now see

Is familiar, in a way

But there is the life to be,

And here's today.

Did anyone see her leaving?

I only know she left.

There's just one word for my grieving...

Bereft.