View from the Moon, and Short People CAN Walk!

Hi, Sillies,
How are you?
Please be well and in good spirits. Thank you.

I was imagining a view from the moon (or worse, the sun) today -- hundreds of thousands of school kids, adults, anyone who likes a good show, all staring up at it to catch a glimpse of the total eclipse. Could this country's people look sillier? Oops, we probably have and could.

Or maybe not!

I copied this in "Sunscreen" filter for your retinal protection. 

Regardless, I don't recommend staring directly at it for any length of time. 

Speaking of silly, someone said the most silly and bizarre thing to me yesterday. I was at a picnic, and a friend's much older relative said "It's strange to see such a short person walking around like that". Really? I've had nearly 50 years of practice at it! Yeah, they let us short ones roam around on weekends. They even loosen the wardrobe restrictions. We can expose nips and kneecaps on casual Fridays. Ha! They assume mine are in proportion to my size. Wait til they see these girls!

 "What does being small have to do with walking around? I'm perfectly mobile."

"Oh don't mind me. I'm an old lady, my brain is foggy. I meant that you're cute as the devil." Great! Who doesn't want to be as adorable as the devil? I've only danced with him briefly. When he and I get together, it's for a quickie at best. I have to close my eyes too. 

Then, at the same time, she and I said "The devil isn't cute."

Flustered --she had no more feet to put in her mouth-- the old lady went for Strike 3. "Well I meant that you're cute as a button." Where does that phrase come from? Nobody seems to know for sure. It's thought that because buttons are small, they are cute. That's stupid. If you need a microscope to find it, there's nothing "cute" about the mission.  Give me something I can work with, for a change.

At this point, I quickly moved away. I wouldn't tolerate witnessing her take another turn at bat. 

Later, I told my friend what his relative had said to me. We laughed about it, and he claimed to have no idea who she is. I can't blame him - such a tall person walking around like that. It's a strange thing.

Have a good evening and week, my friends. 

Words ~ A Poem

Dear Sillies,

I'm always thinking of you. Though I wrote this for a friend who's not well enough to utilize the social media, I know that a lot of you (and your loved ones) are battling conditions over which you have little or no control. That said, I hope this poem provides spiritual warmth and comfort. It's my intent, though words are so limiting. And that's kinda the point of my poem.

Also, this is the first (non-erotic) poem I've written in years. Naughty rhyme is much easier for me. 

Anyway, take gentle care of yourselves.

 

                                             dried roses, my coffee table centerpiece

With wholehearted sincerity:

If words were verbs, this verse would serve

To spin plight into light like you deserve.

To trade the pains and strife you bear

With regained faith in life that’s fair

Erase all portions of your toll

Embrace and restore your gracious soul.

If words could expel your gravest fears

They’d repel what plagues you

And those you hold dear.

Inject youthful zest and the same flashing spark

That helped move you through

Past patches of dark.

They’d kill the ills and cease the disease.

Fill you with seamless steam, thrill, and ease.

If words could convey your out-of-sight worth

They’d bathe you in every last diamond on earth.

Words: they can blast, pop, and pound

And yet not make a sound.

They can crowd real loud

When there’s no one around.

Yet in times of travail

When hours require fight

Words, flail, fail, and 

duck out of sight.

They can’t serve as elixirs

Or tenderize the gruff

But they’ll render an

“I love you.”

I wish that was enough.

Robyn Alana Engel 8.17

Pat Hatt and the Cat, parental guidance suggested

Dearest Sillies,

What can I say? Pat Hatt gave my secrets away.

Here's part of his rhyme about me, posted Sunday at his sea.

In non-highlighted font you will find, my comments in kind (well, actually, naughty, not so kind).

I'm assuming you're all following Pat Hatt.

He's phenomenal, weird, quirky, over-the-top creative, and very generous. He'll put you in the spotlight when you least expect it. Thank you, Pat!

Be well, my friends.

Rawkin Robyn

Odds are a bobbin

Robyn likes large.

Slim won't work.

Neither will quick discharge.

Large and long is a perk.

I won't lie or fake it.

What you say is true.

If it's too stubby or slender

I say: "We didn't start, but we're through."

I mean, shrinkage can't be the excuse every time

When I need binoculars to see it

A banana works fine.

Wow, went there.
Odds are I would.
We've got verses to spare.
Were those odds understood?

 Your naughtiness rivals 

my scandalous ways

We're both odd, so the odds were 

we'd confuse all for days.
That could be the why.
Why no new posts fly.
She's off under the sky,
With some new guy.

 Truth about why, no new posts fly:

There have been teasers, but no dates and no pleasers.

One hot chocolate man 

did make me beam

After I read my erotica (at Open Mic) - like a dream.

He bought me a drink, got my hopes up and then

stepped out for a phone-call

I'd ne'er seen him again.

Then there was one

with whom I shared a quick kiss and some fun

Later when I reached out to chat

he had to . . . sell baseball cards on EBay. Well, how 'bout that?

Alas, last week, I had finally met

someone decent and nice

I was ready to bet

There was a good vibe

and a two hour phone-call

He said he'd come up with plans.

I figured we'd have a ball.

Yeah, that didn't happen at all. (He didn't even call.)

So you see, this is why

no new posts fly.

I haven't been dating,

not even a smidge.  

Good thing I have friends

and bananas in the fridge.