En.Citatepedia^®.ro

To Redefine A Re-alignment Of Things

To redefine a re-alignment of things to come,
To do to get done with a fresh outlook...
That appears to be organized and knowledgeable,
Is to know how to bake a cake from scratch.
But the itch to do that and deliver an accepting taste,
Seems not to be of benefit and too much of a waste...
For those who wish to lead with grandma's old recipes.
And with outdated sentiments too stale but used.
Even they are trying to find sense to make...
In times when the eating of cake,
Can not be faked...
For those demanding what has been promised,
From those making promises who have never been honest.
As an unbelievable heat increases in the kitchen.
And although they are dressed to make impressions,
No one knows a thing about the use of an oven or stove.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Difficult To Relate To This Concept

It takes know-how with specifics,
To create a delicious cake.
And only those experienced,
Know what it takes.

First a mixture of ingredients is needed,
With a whipping up of batter,
Allowing the cake to bake for taste.
Ultimately satisfying the anticipation.

However there are those impatient and can not wait,
Who find it difficult to relate to this concept.
And they are the ones who refuse to comprehend...
That the oven has to be heated,
BEFORE the cake goes in.

'So...
Why are all the people protesting outside? '

They are the ones who have decided,
The baker should be replaced.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Like Cake

I like cake
I like sweet things
I like those tastes
That on my taste buds sing
But i don't like biscuits
They are far too dry
And the thought of eating mussels
Makes me really want to cry
But i do like cake
Don't even ask me why
It's not as if i haven't even had to try
All those other things that other people seem to like
For i like cake
And cake is what i like.

poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From Seats to Feet

A style that brings the people,
From seats to feet...
Is something that isn't easily done.
Especially if more than a few are pleased.

This is a skill of a master,
Unmasked.
And more than any other,
Who has crafted a task.

And it...
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
It takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
Yes it,
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
To whip a cake to taste takes more than a...
Shake and bake!

A style that brings the people,
From seats to feet...
Is something that isn't easily done.
This is a skill of a master,
Unmasked.
And more than any other,
Who has crafted a task.

And it...
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
It takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
Yes it,
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
To whip a cake to taste takes more than a...
Shake and bake!

No need to ask a master what is the task.
When people move from seats to feet,
They've been razz-a-ma-tazzed.

And it...
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
It takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
Yes it,
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
To whip a cake to taste takes more than a...
Shake and bake!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take Your Life Off Pause

If you hesitate to bake it,
You or anyone will get to taste the cake.
Why is there a procrastination?
What is it you await to negotiate?
You will never know how that cake is rated.
Or even worthy of debate.
If you hestitate to bake it,
Pointless becomes the time wasted.

Take your life off pause,
Because you're seeking first to appease.
Take your life off pause,
Add to your life flavor.
Don't be afraid to dip into mystique.

Take your life off pause and bake it.
Take your life off pause and bake that cake.
Take your life off pause don't you fake it.
Take your life off pause don't wait too late.
Take your life off pause.
And...
Eliminate those tightened jaws.

You will never know how that cake is rated.
Or even worthy of debate.
If you hestitate to bake it,
Pointless is the time you waste.

Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
Why negotiate?

Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
Don't wait too late.

Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
There is no need to debate.

Take your life off pause and bake it.
Take your life off pause and bake that cake.
Take your life off pause don't you fake it.
Take your life off pause don't wait too late.
Take your life off pause.
And...
Eliminate those tightened jaws.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sister's cake

I'd not complain of Sister Jane, for she was good and kind,
Combining with rare comeliness distinctive gifts of mind;
Nay, I'll admit it were most fit that, worn by social cares,
She'd crave a change from parlor life to that below the stairs,
And that, eschewing needlework and music, she should take
Herself to the substantial art of manufacturing cake.

At breakfast, then, it would befall that Sister Jane would say:
"Mother, if you have got the things, I'll make some cake to-day!"
Poor mother'd cast a timid glance at father, like as not--
For father hinted sister's cooking cost a frightful lot--
But neither she nor he presumed to signify dissent,
Accepting it for gospel truth that what she wanted went!

No matter what the rest of 'em might chance to have in hand,
The whole machinery of the house came to a sudden stand;
The pots were hustled off the stove, the fire built up anew,
With every damper set just so to heat the oven through;
The kitchen-table was relieved of everything, to make
That ample space which Jane required when she compounded cake.

And, oh! the bustling here and there, the flying to and fro;
The click of forks that whipped the eggs to lather white as snow--
And what a wealth of sugar melted swiftly out of sight--
And butter? Mother said such waste would ruin father, quite!
But Sister Jane preserved a mien no pleading could confound
As she utilized the raisins and the citron by the pound.

Oh, hours of chaos, tumult, heat, vexatious din, and whirl!
Of deep humiliation for the sullen hired-girl;
Of grief for mother, hating to see things wasted so,
And of fortune for that little boy who pined to taste that dough!
It looked so sweet and yellow--sure, to taste it were no sin--
But, oh! how sister scolded if he stuck his finger in!

The chances were as ten to one, before the job was through,
That sister'd think of something else she'd great deal rather do!
So, then, she'd softly steal away, as Arabs in the night,
Leaving the girl and ma to finish up as best they might;
These tactics (artful Sister Jane) enabled her to take
Or shift the credit or the blame of that too-treacherous cake!

And yet, unhappy is the man who has no Sister Jane--
For he who has no sister seems to me to live in vain.
I never had a sister--may be that is why today
I'm wizened and dyspeptic, instead of blithe and gay;
A boy who's only forty should be full of romp and mirth,
But I (because I'm sisterless) am the oldest man on earth!

Had I a little sister--oh, how happy I should be!
I'd never let her cast her eyes on any chap but me;
I'd love her and I'd cherish her for better and for worse--
I'd buy her gowns and bonnets, and sing her praise in verse;
And--yes, what's more and vastly more--I tell you what I'd do:
I'd let her make her wondrous cake, and I would eat it, too!

I have a high opinion of the sisters, as you see--
Another fellow's sister is so very dear to me!
I love to work anear her when she's making over frocks,
When she patches little trousers or darns prosaic socks;
But I draw the line at one thing--yes, I don my hat and take
A three hours' walk when she is moved to try her hand at cake!

poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Take the Cake

If I didn't provide you with munchies,
You wouldn't find a munch to crunch.
You would complain about the labor.
That it takes for you to make your lunch.

If I didn't provide you with munchies,
You wouldn't find a munch to crunch.
You would complain about the labor.
That it takes for you to make your lunch.

You take the cake.
With nothing brought from you to the table.
You take the cake.
With judgements passed and faked fables.
You take the cake...
And you leave no one a taste.

If I didn't provide you with munchies,
You wouldn't find a munch to crunch.
You would complain about the labor.
That it takes for you to make your lunch.

You take the cake.
With nothing brought from you to the table.
You take the cake.
With judgements passed and faked fables.
You take the cake...
And you leave no one a taste.
With a demonstating of your greed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Catman

Catman, you're looking cool today,
We say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my hangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So keep your high-heel boots and your knee-high mind,
Come up to my pad and see my work,
Go for a meal and hear my joke,
Or get in a bag and take a poke,
But don't be too clever or we'll kick your fillies in.
Look out, look out,
The rosies are coming to town.
Look out, catman, look out, catman,
The rosies are flashing along.
Catman, we feel a fool today,
I say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my wangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So leave your well polished tail and your uptight suit,
Show us some funnies that are better than daddies,
Or bake us some cakes that are better than mommies,
Or give us your witties that are trapped in your willies,
But don't be too clever or we'll scratch your goodies out.
Watch out, watch out,
The rosies are riding the town.
Watch out, catman, watch out, catman,
The rosies are slashing about.
Catman, shining your tools today,
They say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my fangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So save your thigh high thoughts and your banana skin,
We'll burn your pansies and give you a bug,
We'll squeeze your lemon and give you a mug,
We'll cut your daisies and give you a slug,
And don't be too clever or we'll blow your sillies off.
Keep out, keep out,
The rosies are passing the town.
Keep out, catman, keep out, catman,
The rosies are bashing around.
Coochy coochy coo, bunny bunny boo, patti patti poo,
Catman! catman! where are you?
Don't be a prune, catman, give us all you've got.
Your blueberry eyes and your evergreen lies.
'cause after all, by this fall you might grow too old,
And you can't ask your mommy to use an old fruity in her pie.
Patter cake, patter cake, baker's man,
Bake me a cake as slow as you can.
Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with 'o'
And put it in the oven for me and my mo.
Batter cake, batter cake, baker's girl,
Fake me a cake as fast as you curl.
Bat it, and whip it, and mark it with blood
And throw it in the oven with trickles and mud.
Wetter cake, wetter cake, baker's boy,
Make me a cake that's sweet as your toy.
Wet it, and slick it, and mark it with 'p'
And leave it in the oven for lizzie and me.
Catman! catman!
Hey, dumballs, get me a pair of rubber dolls, will you!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Man -
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Catman (The Rosies Are Coming)

Catman, youre looking cool today,
We say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my hangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So keep your high-heel boots and your knee-high mind,
Come up to my pad and see my work,
Go for a meal and hear my joke,
Or get in a bag and take a poke,
But dont be too clever or well kick your fillies in.
Look out, look out,
The rosies are coming to town.
Look out, catman, look out, catman,
The rosies are flashing along.
Catman, we feel a fool today,
I say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my wangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So leave your well polished tail and your uptight suit,
Show us some funnies that are better than daddies,
Or bake us some cakes that are better than mommies,
Or give us your witties that are trapped in your willies,
But dont be too clever or well scratch your goodies out.
Watch out, watch out,
The rosies are riding the town.
Watch out, catman, watch out, catman,
The rosies are slashing about.
Catman, shining your tools today,
They say, catman, umm, catman, umm.
My name is rosy and my fangs on you,
Catman, umm, catman.
So save your thigh high thoughts and your banana skin,
Well burn your pansies and give you a bug,
Well squeeze your lemon and give you a mug,
Well cut your daisies and give you a slug,
And dont be too clever or well blow your sillies off.
Keep out, keep out,
The rosies are passing the town.
Keep out, catman, keep out, catman,
The rosies are bashing around.
Coochy coochy coo, bunny bunny boo, patti patti poo,
Catman! catman! where are you?
Dont be a prune, catman, give us all youve got.
Your blueberry eyes and your evergreen lies.
cause after all, by this fall you might grow too old,
And you cant ask your mommy to use an old fruity in her pie.
Patter cake, patter cake, bakers man,
Bake me a cake as slow as you can.
Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with o
And put it in the oven for me and my mo.
Batter cake, batter cake, bakers girl,
Fake me a cake as fast as you curl.
Bat it, and whip it, and mark it with blood
And throw it in the oven with trickles and mud.
Wetter cake, wetter cake, bakers boy,
Make me a cake thats sweet as your toy.
Wet it, and slick it, and mark it with p
And leave it in the oven for lizzie and me.
Catman! catman!
Hey, dumballs, get me a pair of rubber dolls, will you!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Man -
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!
Catman!

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Out Of the Kitchen

Ready and hoping for that taste of cake,
After the last slice of it is gone?
To then express attitude,
With an announcement made...
Of how selfish everyone else is.
And at no time saying a thing,
When the cake was being baked?
Or mixed with all of the ingredients,
Put into it 'before' it was placed into the oven.

Nor mention did you one word,
About having a craving for a piece?
Until the last crumb of it,
Had been licked away!
And the aroma of it from the air has ceased.

Look here...
You have no right to point a finger,
At nobody, no time soon.
But you can take all the time you need,
To blame yourself.
I will be your witness if you seek one.

No one here,
Is living to be your personal mind reader!
Let me make that clear...
No ONE here, H with an E-R-E,
Has been assigned to be your personal mind reader.

Take the first step you can away from yourself.
Not to make mental notes or excuses to abuse anyone.
But to open your mouth and declare what it is you wish.
No one is obligated to do that for you but yourself!
Now get out of the kitchen.
You are about to get me heated.
And you don't have it like that.
Not in my home.
You were offered a piece and said nothing.
Do you remember that?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Baker Man

Well here comes a dance that will never be banned now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Yeah, stolen from a story called "The Baker's Man" now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
It's impossible too sweet to cross the land????
(Patty cake patty cake)
Put your favorite records on and start the show now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Abra-cadabra look at everyone go now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
Alakazam this dance has got to grow now
(Patty cake patty cake)
Well they tell me that it's optional to use your feet
But now you really don't need them if you keep your beat
Well Arthur Murray's gettin' blurry tryin' to learn that jive
When all the kids from coast to coast are really comin' alive
Well go tell the gang what a time you've had now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
This Friday night we'll start a regular fad now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
We'll do the Baker 'til it drives us mad now
(Patty cake patty cake)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Come on and take a lesson now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Clap your partner's hands
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Not too hard
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Now slap her in the face
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
What a disgrace
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
(Patty cake patty cake)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nutritious

That banana cake taste,
Grandma use to bake.
And was loved?
Is gone with the deep dish apple pie.

That smothered blade steak.
Served with black eye peas,
Collard greens and candied yams.
Sometimes with peach cobbler,
With rich vanilla icecream.
That too,
Locks in memories.

Those golden brown biscuits,
Fresh from the oven.
Buttered.
And topped with homemade,
Strawberry jam.
Or that cornbread no one can resist.
That too...
Is gone with the deep dish apple pie.

And today...
As grateful as I am,
To witness the arrival...
Of another Thanksgiving Day to celebrate.
I've never seen so many butts and thighs so wide.
And none of us who ate at grandma's,
Waddled from the table.
No matter what we ate.
Or nibbled all day...
On the honeyed ham,
Turkey sandwiches, potato salad...
Turnips.
Or just to sit to sip on eggnog.
None of us who ate at grandma's,
Waddled from the table.
Or stretched spandex!

Maybe fast food is fast!
But it sure is not nutritious.
Forget delicious.
It's just addictive and quick.
That's it!
And when we ate at grandma's...
We knew something whipped up with love,
Was coming out of the kitchen.
And not to sit too long,
Waiting for a decision made to eat.

And none of us,
Who came to eat to leave...
Did a waddle from the table.
Or stretched spandex!

'Why didn't you mention,
My fried chicken? '

I didn't even get a piece, grandma!

'Next time,
Eat!
And stop running your mouth so much.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cake And Eat It

when I was a child
people kept telling me
you can't have your cake
and eat it...

I replied what point
is there to having a cake
if you do not eat it
cake is made to be eaten...

and if the kept cake
is soon not enjoyed eaten
it will be stale turn rotten
be thrown away wasted...

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Recommend Everyone Eat Cake

In regards to your digestion,
I would recommend...
The eating of more fruits and vegetables.

'That already poses a disagreement,
As you can see.

Now...
'If' you had 'suggested' the fruits,
And vegetables...
No one here would have ordered,
The icecream and cake.
Just to prove to you,
There are decisions they alone make.

To recommend is one thing.
However...
To suggest implies a willingness to try.
Now no one is concerned about their hips or thighs.'

What a difference a suggestion makes.

'I've been telling you that!
You will learn not to recommend,
But suggest.
The results are unbelievable.'

Hmmm,
I see.
I RECOMMEND EVERYONE EAT CAKE.

'You are wasting your time.
You've got to be a little more pro-active.
Can't you see that is what they are doing? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Be or Not to Be?

To be or not to be on diet?
That is the question!
I think I won’t.
I better prefer an entrecote.
I certainly love to eat,
My favorite dishes are so sweet.
I never ignore a cake.
How delicious is a juicy steak.
Sandwiches with caviar,
Spaghetti and meatballs,
Pilaf and goulash,
Cucumbers and fish …..
Why should I lose weight?
To eat is never late.
Why shouldn’t I eat?
I can stand on my feet.
Why should I care of my waist?
I so much enjoy the food’s taste.
I will not listen to anyone.
It’s the greatest fun
To eat fried mushrooms with sour cream.
Food is so good cooked on a steam.
Chickens in the oven I’ll bake,
Pancakes on the stove I’ll make.
Then I will drink wine
And my eyes will shine.
Someone will be surprised,
But some will be just enticed.

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I miss you...

I miss hearing you say 'Miss. Long Legs'
I miss you showing me how to make a cake
A cake that you would make from scratch
Decorate yourself
It would take all day long
But I would sit right next to you
I miss the advice you would give me
I miss hearing your stories
Oh My Darling...
I miss the jokes you would tell me
I miss being able to call you
I miss going to your house for sunday breakfast
I miss saying 'grandma can I have more toast'
I miss going for rides with you
I miss collecting cans with you and grandpa
I miss seeing you smile
I miss the hugs you use to give me
Most of all I miss you more than ever
The day you past
It felt like my whole world caved in
I don't think I ever cried so much
The family just wont be the same
You held everyone together
Now who's going to tell me stories?
Who's going to make sunday breakfast?
Who's going to give me advice now?
Know one could ever replace you
I love you so much
I wish you where still here
I need you more than ever right now
I know your in a better place
Hopefully I will be able to see you soon
I cant wait for the day
That I can see your smile again
I miss you grandma

poem by Ashley Olson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lemon Cake

The radio plays
Sunny afternoon, it's The Kinks
She's in the kitchen, cooking.

All chaos reigns,
flour, butter, mixing bowls
her, trying to make lemon cake.

She sings loudly
as chefs do in restaurants,
cafes and bakery shops.

It's a lemon cake
like her ma' used to bake
She sings loudly

and the radio's blares,
the telephone rings
and the dog barks.

The neighbour, next door,
throws her watering can about
in protest of the racket.

Fresh lemons fill the air
as I watch from the cat basket
my whiskers twitching

fur bristling, back arched
my eyes -
on the cat flap.

poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Few Came to Socialize with the Baker

~There's an 'old' player on the field.
One who has yet been revealed,
As appealing with significance.
But...
Significant this player is.
Significant to 'that' which lives.
Under the current circumstances.
And the benefit to 'whom'...
Those significant looming circumstances,
Come to grow and groom.~

The easiest thing to do...
For those in positions of leadership,
Appointed and likeable too.
Was...
Not to create opposition,
For those elated who appreciated...
A charading done in masquerade.

When favorite cakes are baked to taste...
Those waiting in anticipation,
Can be counted on to celebrate.
But...
When that oven is finally turned off,
And the aroma of baked cakes fade away.
People once patient,
Begin to show a disrespect.
With a desire to twist the leader's neck.
And a stirring of the masses begin to rise!
When the incompetence of the leader...
Catches all by surprise.

What now becomes prioritized,
Is what has happened to the funds?
And why no one accepts responsibility...
For paying bills that has not been done!

~Has the baker taken ill? ~

No one had ever questioned,
The credibility of those 'appointed' to lead.
Or an ability to think.on feet...
To keep a sinking process,
Now believed and seen as getting deep.

Those looks of impressions,
Seem to be consciously addressed.
Those dressed impeccably with images given...
Are lost to define leadership qualities felt to express.

However...
Everyone knew the taste of good cake.
But very few came to socialize with the baker!
Or knew a thing about what the baking of a good cake takes.

They just came prepared to eat.
Feed pretentions and agreed to meet.
Slap a few backs in 'glad-hand' chatting.
Before exiting with pocketed money arrangements.
Then to hop in luxurized cars to leave!

~There's an 'old' player on the field.
One who has yet been revealed,
As appealing with significance.
But...
Significant this player is.
Significant to 'that' which lives.
Under the current circumstances.
And the benefit to 'whom'...
Those significant looming circumstances,
Come to grow and groom...
Is lost.!

And the baker has stated to the candlestick maker...
'Let them try to do this again.
Without paying 'upfront'...
Every cent that is due us,
In unpaid dividends! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Itch and Scratch

You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.

Just like a train
on a railroad track
You go away today
and tomorrow come back.

Try taking an aeroplane
instead of a car,
then hop on a rocket
to a distant star.

You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.

And just like an itch
you’ve got under my skin,
this is a situation
that I just can’t win.

Please give me a break
and get off my back.
Get out of here
and don’t come back.

You’re just like an itch
that keeps coming back.
Every time I itch
I have to scratch, scratch, scratch.

poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Brunt Of The Heat

A frying cake blamed a frying pan
And the frying pan, the frying cake
For the brunt of heat they bore from the stove
Like a woman and his son’s wife do.

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ban The Void

Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.

Grandma stopped baking cakes.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
Brought me my first heartbreak.
Tch.
Ban the void.
I told her I couldn't take it.
She 'had' to bake another cake for me!
Tch.
Ban the void.

She said she was going on strike!
Tch.
Ban the void.
And even though I didn't like it!
Tch.
Ban the void.
She's not gonna cook in the kitchen,
She's itching to do something else to please!
Tch
Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.

She brought herself a brand new car.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
And drove to wherever she wanted.
Tch.
Ban the void.
She said she had her own special needs.
And will come and go whenever that need pleases!
Tch.
Ban the void.

I got so annoyed...
And I tried to stop that void deep down in me!
Oh...
Ban the void!

I couldn't go to sleep!
I dreamt of grandma's baking,
And it teased me!

I even cried my eyes.
But grandma's sweet potato pie kept creepin'.
Oh...
Ban the void!
Ban the void!
Oh...
Ban the void.

Grandma loved her brand new car.
And never got one ticket,
For her speedin'!

Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
Ban the void.
Oh...

Dedicated To:
In loving memory...
Clara Louise Countryman Pertillar

'Miss you, grandma! '

Love,
Larry

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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