Quarantining in South Carolina

A whole new dictionary-us

Thanks to their contrariness

Those politicians constantly changing

Forget there’s lives they’re rearranging

Don’t be hoarders

Follow orders, 

They’re all so Conflicted

Deciding what’s Restricted

The president says “it’s up to me”

The governors seem to disagree.

New Yorkers who cant’ leave town

Will have to be in lock down

What means this “self isolation?” 

Is it the same across the nation

And what do I do in self-quarantine 

Keep washing hands until they’re clean?

They say “essential” workers aren’t confined
by whom will “essential” be defined?

Don’t you dare to ask, 

just wear the mask.

So we’re at home just resting

Confined without any testing

Hoping that some curve will soon be cresting

Go home

Stay home

Never to roam

Except to shop, buy drugs, exercise, visit family

Get a haircut, watch wrestling

Ozarks at New Year's

My muse this morning perched upon my shoulder

Just to jabber at me about getting older.

Now I sit here in the daylight at the Matye’s Lake House

Mostly trying out here to be quiet as a mouse.

We’ve come to observe the arrival of the year 2020.

If I’ve heard it right I think we’ll see chocolate aplenty.

What else, if you please, would you find in a “chocolate martini”

Chocolate Bailey’s, liqueur and syrup in a glass not so teeny.

Me, I prefer the contemplative moments, 

Soberly looking at the parting year’s remnants.

Who and what lives on, what is frowned upon,

Lake d’Ozark’s a fine place to gaze down on.

 My conclusion—we should all stick around another year 

While we breathe there’s nary a thing to fear.

Waiting For Those Gingerbread Men

Days before Christmas are still in double digits

As he sits sadly around the house and fidgets.

He’s the anxious cookie maker. 

Not willing to be such a premature baker

Of his most-favored cookie treats

That his gems get stale and no one eats.

I Wonder Where That Blogger Went?

If you wonder where that blogger went

If his absence leaves you discontent

There’s a path I know 

Where you just might go

.......................................................

To some light verse will just annoy

To others it brings some simple joy

There’s a pocketful of dreadful rhymes

That don’t rise to the level of crimes

Stay If they cheer you on your way

But if you dislike them, just go away.

Its location’s at one of those “blogspot.com’s”

Idontknowson3rd.blogspot.com

Go ahead, type it in, it is no sin

The workings of a silly mind you’ll find therein.

I’m Looking For An Equinox

Not the Chevrolet—the one I want’s no car at all—
For certain though there is, in fact, a new one every fall,

This long awaited equinox, 

That all my neighbors want so much, 

has less to do with cars and such

And more to do with clocks. 

All of us see them more than once, 

But unlike football there are no punts. 

This equinox of which I speak often is so cool,

It can make the “good ol’ boys” surrounding me just drool

That equinox by Chevy
Which can be so very heavy, 

Some blasts of cool air it may bring;
But we crave cool air from shorter days, not air conditioning

When it offers respite from the sun’s hot rays 

The equinox autumnal is our favorite down here.

You “Yanks” can have those warmer days of vernal spring,

 We’d sooner have some fresh cool air, than almost anything.

Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Husbands

Mamas why do the husbands all have to be killers 

On Forty-Eight Hours, and Dateline so much

Though they might even seem to be society’s pillars

Even businessmen, lawyers and doctors and such.

You know those that aren’t killers are just plain old boring

And husbands like those you’d soon be ignoring.

Though it might seem at first the killer’s unknown

In the blink of an eye, the guilty husband is shown

Even those that play cards wind up guilty as heck 

Sure as fifty-two cards there are in a deck

If you find out he really loves huntin’ and fishin’

Then to be rid of his wife he’ll most always be wishin’

The husband just couldn’t see walkin’ away

Though he knows for certain he’d be a free man today

He’d surely have kept those sheriffs and judges at bay

But he can’t get on Forty-Eight Hours or Dateline that way.

Sue Grafton--Thoughts About Sue That Might Make Us Blue

Is there a day coming when we will all moan

Where on earth have you gone, Kinsey Milhone?

The Alphabet Mysteries were Sue Grafton’s creation, 

And they became a detective story treat for the nation. 

We first met Kinsey with A is for Alibi

From imminent danger Kinsey never did shy,

As the years went by Sue led us along

Through the rest of the alphabet and didn’t do wrong, 

Meaning of course that she never skipped a letter 

Though Sue might have titled some a bit better. 

Which leads me on to a dumb question 

Did she write these books before creating the title?

Or was the title itself really quite vital

In setting the course of each succeeding book,

Which left the rest of the story for the players to cook.

I find myself looking ahead to her grand finale  

Ah, but Z is for Zipjust sounds right up her alley.