In Which Sleep Is Proven A Questing Beast And I No Pellinore

Requirements of the service, lo, have bid

That Tuesdays I work nights in this month. Lo:

I bow my head to this, but flip my lid

At what else this foul day has wrought, and so

Sit up when I should still be fast asleep.

My house's new roof had some flaws, and rain

Was coming through the ceiling. It would keep

On doing so till fixed. My quest became

To get this repair done ere winter's snows.

Success, at last, is mine, but why today?

Just as a pleasant dream ramped up, here shows

Up all the crew with power tools and, hey,

With noise and strangers fill my afternoon

And morning, too. Quick, hand me the harpoon.

In Which Cocktail Hour Finally Gives Us An Excuse To Stop What The Rain Could Not

Late afternoon, after a hard day's toil

In my backyard with Dad cracking his whip,

It's cocktail hour. We watch the stormclouds roil

And lightning flash oer all that we did strip

Of weeds and bunch grass at no little cost.

I eschew power tools whene'er I can;

Expensive to maintain, then there's exhaust

Inhaled while working. But as Carol Ann

Sherrod might say, you does with what you has.

And what I had was a vast crop of weeds

Beyond what I felt I could cope with as

A single girl. But now my father bleeds

From helping me. The least that I can do

Is get him drunk, and yes, my mother, too.

In Which An Idle Ass Keeps Getting Kicked At Work Or Play

My dad is here to visit, and that means,

A restless, wild work ethic with two feet

Does stalk my halls and rooms in ratty jeans,

A tool in hand and goals he seeks to meet.

We've leveled up my old washing machine,

We've tried and failed to clean the furnace vent,

We've shoveled so much snow it seems obscene

(Especially for April!). Now I'm bent

And sore while he keeps asking, well what more

Should we be doing with this idle time?

Hooray for Mom, who said pinochle or

Some dominoes, would that not be sublime?

We played a while, and they both kicked my ass,

Thank goodness it's now cocktail hour at last!

To Be A Way-Station For Friends On The Road Is Another Great Reason To Be A Homeowner!

Another reason that I love my pad
Occurred this week. I had a house guest, who
Is not related to me. I was glad
To put up an old friend, just passing through.
He stayed for just one night. We dined and talked;
And reminisced on old pals. It was good.
He met a newer friend of mine; we walked
Our silly dogs through my new neighborhood
And in the morning, much to my delight
He tuned up Deep Blue so he's at his best
For summer rides (Deep Blue is my dear bike),
Then said good-bye and left for the Midwest,
His destination Brooklyn and beyond.
Farewell, dear Adam, of whom I am fond.

This Sonnet Is Sort Of Late For A Lot Of Good Reasons

If there was an event at all today
That could be called important, I missed out.
Between my cold and new home's disarray,
Deliveries and running all about
Cheyenne on errands, I lost track of time,
I missed the news and missed all of the tweets
That are these days more timely, for my dime,
Than any broadcast show or scandal sheets.
I got a lot accomplished, I may claim.
My kitchen's up and running and I bought
A lot of little things I shall require
A smoke detector -- no, I had one not --
A freezer and the all-important fire
Extinguisher. I'll take on faith that no
Attacks, impacts or meltdowns happened. though.