pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Just for fun

Remotely Interested in Travel

Travel host Rick Steves in Switzerland’s Jungfrau Region
With suitcase in hand as she leaves,
the thought of it drives her to heaves.
Oh what joy it might bring
but it isn’t her thing,
so she now leaves it up to Rick Steves.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021


(Would love to know who to credit for this image.)

MILK DELIVERY

Uncle Ray delivering milk for Warren Sanitary Dairy 1954

Back in the days of house-to-house milk delivery, Uncle Ray had the greatest technology:  a horse-driven, refrigerated milk cart. The horse knew what she was doing.  She would take Uncle Ray to the first home on the route.  He would grab enough ice-cold milk from the cart for the next several homes.  She would walk the cart to the spot where he would need to grab more milk, and wait there for him. Then along came even newer and greater technology:  refrigerated delivery trucks.  Unfortunately, Uncle Ray was not permitted to turn down the newer technology.  Not only did it make his job harder, but he lost a dear friend and coworker. 

Often new knowhow’s
know how is negligible
or nearly inept.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

Aesop’s Barbershop

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

We know much of a fairytale
Of Tortoise and the Hare,
But I can tell you details that
Got lost somewhere out there.

See, Aesop had a barbershop
Where he would share folklore
While snippets of each patron’s hair
Would float from head to floor.

While gleaning nest material
From under Aesop’s chair,
A little bird learned more about
the Tortoise and the Hare.

Not only did Hare take a nap
While racing such a slowpoke,
He also caught a matinee,
And shot the breeze with townsfolk.

He stopped in to the barbershop
To get the latest chinwag.
He wrote it all into his pad,
And stuck it in his bookbag.

That steadfast Tortoise won the race,
Which Hare did not foresee.
How do I know these new-found facts?
A little bird told me.  

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

UNTITLED 5/7/5

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“No more pennies,” we
were informed, and we could make
no cents of this change.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

(Hardly a poem, but it was fun to write!)

I’LL GET IT!

This used to be yelled
in a sing-song way
in every household
every day
when we would all clamor
to answer the call
of the one lone phone
that hung on the wall.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 10 – Writer’s Digest  (Day 10: Write a  Get Blank poem)

CITRUS

Lemonface by Deanna Marie Metts 🙂

She’ll never slice me,
squeeze, or zest me, if you just
sketch me a sweet face.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 9 – Writer’s Digest (Day 9: Write a PERSONA poem)

WHO YOU CALLIN’ LAZY?!

Image by David Mark from Pixabay

Her argument couldn’t be finer:
“Don’t want you to think I’m a whiner.
I’m not just a shirker
I AM a hard worker!”
She said, from her threadbare recliner.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 4 – Writer’s Digest (Day 4: Write an ACTIVE poem).

EASIER SAID THAN MUM

Photo by Keith R. Good

She spewed out a detailed confession.
Her friend made a robust suggestion:
Don’t let your mouth gush –
You must learn to hush
when asked a rhetorical question.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

UPS AND DOWNS

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I put my feet up
and sip down hot tea,
then fall fast asleep.
(That doggone T.V!)

I climb up the stairs
and head down the hall,
then into my bed
I sluggishly crawl.

Too soon I wake up,
‘cause I have to pee.
*sigh* Back down the hall …
(That doggone hot tea!)

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

Schmoozy Sue, the Santa Shrew

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

Few know of Sue, the Santa Shrew,
and that’s a curious thing in view
of all the schmoozing she would do
once scooting down each chimney flue.

She’d shoot the breeze with skillful ease
in English, Welsh, or Taiwanese,
while feasting on her hostess’ cheese.
Then right back up the flue she’d squeeze.

‘Round every tree, she’d socialize –
she’d dramatize and improvise,
and aggrandize, and summarize.
Shrew ebullience, epitomized.

As starlit skies turned pinks and golds,
Sue’d slip ‘tween Santa’s soft cloak folds
and there, she’d dream of each household
and all her stories, still untold.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020