Goodbye Easter Ham
I loved you like no other, yon ham.
With happy heart and joyous face
I supped with you and not roast lamb.
And licked my lips with poise and grace.
Extra care I gave to save you
In a Ziploc bag sealed with a kiss.
Oh muse, love with absence indeed grew
Fonder, in dreams of you on Swiss.
But something terrible transpired.
Locked gate separated me and fridge.
My bosom was robbed of all it desired
By a chasm that no man could bridge.
Apart from you in pain I dwell
Here all alone in my hamless hell.
7 comments:
I have your ham in my fridge. Nice sonnet... Wuss.
One wonders... Is a sonnet about ham a Ham-let?
to be or not to be.... hmmm.
Once again a resonating ring lingers on my ear like the dew of the summer's first melon seranading one's taste buds long after the forbidden fruit has expired to the depths of one's gastric chamber. If you know what i mean, you're crazy...and i like you.
Oh, and i forgot to add this (becuase i was busy writing stupid things instead): Lacey is one saucy cat. If her looks are as fine as her wit; gentlemen beware.
Aaannd go, I am going to dedicate a book to you, or, if I never write a book, I will at least dedicate a baby to you... even if I never make a baby.
Would that be the same book that you use my poetry as the forward? Will you be writing multiple books that are insignificant enough to merit the forward of a blogger and a dedication to a conjunction/verb? What will the plot of the book(s) be? Will I enjoy reading it, or will it be one of those books that I own because I have some personal tie to the author yet am not particularly of the writing style/subject matter? What will the baby's name be? You simply have not explained yourself very well. That, or you like to make promises about books to everyone who stikes your fancy. And that brings me back to the baby, shouldn't the father of the baby have a say about to whom it gets dedicated? Or was that all just some lip service to me too? I demand a recou...an explanation. And I want to know why people who blog pretend that they can't go back and edit what they've typed.
Don't hide your comments to me in old posts. I only find them because I am obsessive compulsive and lonely. And on that note, please read over your rough-draft (draught?) comment and find that place where you forgot the word "fond," and call me.
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