Last night my daughter was singing a song
With lyrics that went something like this:
“I want to play volleyball but no one will
Because my whole family is selfish.”
She was singing badly on purpose
An ear-splitting kind of yell
“The voice of an angel,” I said out loud.
To which my oldest son replied, “From Hell.”
(mean, I know, but funny)
So we finally gave in and played some ball
And afterwards I went for a walk
On such a nice warm night for family and friends
To stay outside all evening and talk.
(Here’s where the poem takes a dark turn)
But tonight it’s supposed to snow outside
On this second day in May
The first time ever it’s snowed this late
Except maybe once when my grandpa was eight.
It’s wrong. It’s awful. This 40-degree drop
Global Warming’s great, big joke
Somewhere surely Al Gore is blushing
Such a silly, inaccurate bloke.
Which brings me back to where I started
It’ll snow sometime tonight.
In May, practically summer, supposedly warm
Not one thing about it is right.
Which means
Either Hell
Has frozen over
Or I live there.
*flick your lighters and feel free to applaud*
I bad ending, I know, but necessary. Sigh.
Despite the rude return of winter, things are going good here. Just working away, up to my eyeballs in two books edits. Which makes seeing really hard, but I guess that’s just another challenging part of this book-writing thing. And speaking of writing—I’m also working on (courtesy of an awesome designer—I’m really not doing anything because I am completely computer illiterate) a new website. Which should be up and running by my next post!
So…I’ll see you next time. On my new and improved site. One on which I will not be sitting on railroad tracks in imminent danger of getting hit by a train.
Amy