Ode to the Annual

Thin gowns. Paper sheets.

Stirrups for my cold, bare feet.

Long deep breaths to get me through.

Scraping, pressing, turning blue.

Poking. Prodding. Felt for lumps.

Going in cup. Asked about dumps.

Nothing personal; it’s part of the ride

Of getting checked from all inside.

A few more years, then getting squished

Will be added to the dreaded list.

Wish me luck, feel my pain,

At least condolences you could feign.

Once a year, it’s my fate.

3pm today; it’s a date.

If You Give a Mom a Reece's Peanut Butter Cup

If you give a mom a Reece's Peanut Butter Cup, she may just ask for some salted "Movie Butter" popcorn to counteract the sweetness.

And if you give a mom some "Movie Butter", salty popcorn, she may just ask for an ice-cold Diet Coke from the can to wash it down.

And if you give a mom an ice-cold Diet Coke from a can, she may just want to sit in a comfy spot for a minute while she partakes of such delight.

And while you let a mom sit and relax for a minute, she may just get out her cell phone and start to catch up on funny texts or emails or blogs.

And while she is texting or catching up on funny emails, she may want a refill on her drink.

And if you give a mom a refill on her drink, she may find the urge to put her feet up.

And if you let a mom put her feet up, she may just ask you for a blanket.

If you give a mom a blanket, she may just ask you to turn out the lights.

If you turn out the lights, she may just suggest you put a movie in.

And if you put in a movie for a mom to watch, she may just fall asleep.

And if a mom falls asleep, she might just wake up an hour or two later ...

...and ask for a snack...


...like a Reece's Peanut Butter cup. ;)

ABC's of Me

[A]ttention is something I enjoy,

[B]ourne Movies are my all-time fave.

There's no such thing as too much [C]heese;

[D]ollar and cents, I'm trying to save.

I'm [E]agerly searching for Mr. Right to forever be my lover.

Bare [F]eet gross me out; So keep 'em Cute, Clean or Covered!

Hawaii is where I went to colle[G]e,

But I'm a [H]oosier, 'cause that's where I was born.

My [I]pod's full of tons of tunes,

[J]uxtaposing love and scorn.

Amish is my daddy's bac[K]ground,

[L]DS is my religion.

[M]assages are like Crack-Cocaine,

and I love snuggli[N]g (just a smidgen).

H[O]bbies & adventures keep me busy.

I've [P]layed the piano since I was four

Which helps to [Q]uiet many thoughts

'cause insomnia's a bo[R]e!

[S]ushi rocks! Need I say more? ("Connect" and "Las Vegas" rolls, to-die for!)

"[T]hat's what she said" is my favorite line, (though it gets me into trouble).

[U]tah is where I live now (What some call the "Mormon bubble").

Con[V]ersating is my obsession,

[W]riting is my passion,

To e[X]cel is my drive, being myself in true fashion.

One stop short of Insanit[Y]ville, some onlookers just might decide.

But with [Z]eal, I continue, for I've nothing more to hide.

Not Mine To Make (an attempt at poetry)

I have in my mind two different plays;
the one that ends in fortune and the one that ends in plight.

I feel I must consider the road where each one lays
where will they lead me and how long until there's light?

As circumstances have it, currently to ponder
the obvious is not so, the ending not so clear.

So often I sit, allowing my mind to wander,
the meanings I transpose; but the author is not here.

What if the outcome is one of naught?
Into tiny little pieces my heart will surely break.

To be still as I have been taught;
Demeanor, grace and poise is the coat that I must take.

My mind I am preparing, my heart the worst I fear
for that one ending moment of crushing, utter despair

And yet the other path, the one that's not so clear:
A small, yet hopeful glimpse; do I even dare?

For that is the song that makes my heart sing,
that gives breath to life, and purpose for being.

That is the song I so want to hear ring
but afraid to reveal the path I'm foreseeing.

For me, I know it's right; for me there is no choice.
And yet I cannot share my words, lest fear and doubt creep in

The answer must come from another voice,
from another path I have not since been.

From that author; he gets to write
He gets to create this ending; what's in store.

Only this I know with all my might,
I could never love an author more.