One Week Warning
It's my 42nd birthday one week from today.
*IF* you want to do something special for me (and you certainly are not obligated to... although I will feel unloved if you don't)(no pressure), this year I want a poem.
Here are my rules:
1) You must include the words "birthday" and "Roses";
2) It must be funny;
3) Bonus points for including your own name and/or blog name.
That's all.
I'll put up a post next Monday, and you can leave your poem in the comments where everyone can admire your talents.
Go grab your Crayon. Have fun!
(But don't put a LOT of effort into it... it's not like I have prizes other than my undying love and devotion...)
8 comments:
Heh...my brain is now engaged...
Muse...muse....must find my muse.
I am exactly one week and one year older than you.
No need for boredom or fear/
Nor cause for jabs or jeer/
For Hapkido, you see/
On your birthday foretells glee:/
Either RonnyEngrish's proses/
Will more than entertain Roses/
Or banned from Crunch Time he'll be!
:-P
This is making me crazy. You know I love you, so of COURSE I wanna participate.
However....I got nothin'. I woke up this morning and the first thing I did was try and think of something...ANYTHING....I got nothin'.....
Haiku or limerick - decisions, decisions, decisions ...
Me? I poem... baw ha ha ha... I got noth'n... but who knows... for you... I'll try.
I was in my car;
I gave myself a lift,
To go buy Roses
A birthday gift.
And while driving on my mission
To buy a gift for Roses,
I noticed all the motorists
With fingers in their noses.
What were they seeking?
Were they mining for gold?
Car windows are transparent,
Or so I am told.
So as you drive
With finger up nostril,
Know that others can see you
And think you're a wastrel.
Booger-hunting while driving -
It just isn't done.
Not by Mr. Debonair
At Blog d'Elisson.
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