Basket, Bag or Hamper

The hamper of my youth was built
Into the bathroom wall.
You got undressed and tossed your clothes
Next to the shower stall.

When I left home, a laundry bag
Held items for the wash,
As much as in a canvas sack
Your arms could cram or squash.

Today a wicker basket
Is where clothing sits and waits
‘Til the day it’s overflowing
‘Cause of what accumulates.

Be it basket, bag or hamper,
Take a glance and you’ll know when
You must empty out the contents
Just to fill it once again.

Winky Dink

If you are of a certain age
Then you are on the brink
Of possibly forgetting
Watching “You and Winky Dink.”*

A children’s show on CBS
On Saturday each week,
It drew us in because it had
A gimmick quite unique.

For fifty cents you sent away
And got a plastic screen
With “magic” crayons that you used
As part of the routine.

The screen stuck to the TV set
And Winky Dink (a toon)
Instructed us to help him out
At moments opportune:

Connect the dots or else decode
A message being sent;
(The purchase of the screens, of course,
The studio’s intent.)

How many children must have marred
Their parents’ one TV?
For crayons used without the screen
Seems like a guarantee.

Of simpler times was “Winky Dink”
Yet see how life connects –
Those former tots still write on screens
But now they’re sending texts!

*really called “Winky Dink and You”
 (a little poetic license here!)

On the Loose

Fifteen bison hit the road
With freedom on their mind,
Without a backward glance to see
The ranch they left behind.

When word got out, the cops were called
Though they were unprepared
To deal with creatures of that size.
(I’d guess that they were scared.)

The bison crossed a highway;
Trucks were skidding to a halt,
With accidents avoided
(Though no one would be at fault).

There is a sad conclusion,
The decision being made
To shoot them all, a sorry end
To their brief escapade.

The days when bison roamed the plains
Are lost and gone for good,
A fact that these poor shaggy beasts
Might have misunderstood.

Humidity

Humidity’s validity
Is limited to plants
‘Cause people would avoid it
If they only had the chance.

For mugginess, like bugginess,
Does nothing but annoy.
It’s not the type of weather
That I ever could enjoy.

The ickiness of stickiness
Just brings me to my knees.
I’m sure I’m not the only one
Who’d much prefer to freeze!

For the Moms

Mothers always take the blame
When kids do something wrong
And they're the culprits if their offspring
Just don't get along.

Yet they deserve the credit
For their nine-month rent-free womb,
Which isn't quite as easy
As some menfolk would assume.

They kiss the boo-boos, warm the milk,
Make playdates, buy the clothes
And do a million little things
Nobody really knows.

Of course they have some help and yes,
They make mistakes as well,
But Mothers' Day is not the time
On deficits to dwell.

Instead, let's hear it for the moms
Who do what they do best- 
Devote their lives to those they love
With very little rest!

Self-Service Car Wash

Slide your quarters, grab the hose.
(Point away from eyes and nose.)
Power spray to loosen dirt;
One more time now wouldn't hurt.

Grasp the soap brush - scrub that foam;
Top to bottom - almost home.
Coat the roof if you have wet it;
If you're short - well, just forget it.

Timer's ticking - spritz some water.
Uh-oh - better add a quarter.
Watch those suds as they come pooling;
Almost done, but who you fooling?

Though the car looks slightly better,
Mostly it's just much much wetter!

A Patio Umbrella

A patio umbrella
That provides a patch of shade
Makes a backyard much more pleasant,
Worth each penny that you paid.

For the glaring sun can scorch you
Or make sweat run down your face
But beneath your canvas rooflet,
There's a cool and comfy place.

Someone sure deserves a medal,
Plus some royalties in pay,
For outwitting what Apollo
Thinks it's fun to send our way.