Going to a wake
for Winter this weekend.
We’ll raise bottles of beer,
shots of chilled Grey Goose,
roll dice,
deal cards,
ante and bet,
burn red meat
‘til the stars get hungry,
keeping one eye
on the Weather Channel,
making sure
the old bastard doesn’t rise.
(all rights reserved Pat Paulk 2006)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
14 comments:
O, the irreverance
I love it
the old bastard is still very much alive and kicking around here. would need someone to put it away.
love it!
Love Word Storms it is as vivid as the struggle to write, I've enjoyed looking back through your blog thanks for dropping by
I'm all for that!!
Well, it sounds as though you're busy tonight but tomorrow if you are able, please come and join the FFMB march. Every Friday, I post 3 friendless blogs that are in need of comments.
I have further info about the band on the bottom of the Friday posts.
excellent poem
excellent idea
i noticed that it was light
06.30 today
got dark
18.30 last night
the end is in sight
burn red meat
'til the stars get hungry
yeah!
damn, if it weren't so far to drive i'd crash winter's wake.
Enjoyable.
liked it..the close was great:-)
Thanks everybody! The "old" bastard di try to raise up last night, but this morning he went back down! Hopefully for the last time!
good stuff. I may have to become a wake crasher.
Shane Wakes are definitely meant to be crashed! Thanks for coming by.
omg I loved!!!! this one.... "til the stars get hungry',, can't wait until this rains eases... THANKZ for the visual !
Thanks, Cheesy, for stopping in out of the rain!
Post a Comment