HUMOR
ONCE I WAS A REDHEAD
Many, many years ago,
And I know this to be true,
Old ladies went to the beauty parlor
And tinted their gray hair blue.
Emerging from the salon,
Always smiling and demure
They paraded about town
Showing off their new coiffure.
Now old ladies with blue hair
Are artifacts from the past;
And the color they are opting for
Has me feeling quite downcast.
You see red has been my color.
It makes me feel vibrant and alive.
But now I'm noticing other redheads
And most of them are pushing seventy five.
I'm way too young to be old.
I'm still in my prime.
Would it be terribly gauche
To be a blonde by dinnertime?
My red tresses are now lackluster brown;
And I'm desperate for a magic wand.
There's been a lot of dyeing and bleaching,
But still I'm not a blonde.
My hair has many colors.
It's like a grand buffet
With numerous delectable choices
Always on display.
DOCTOR'S VISIT
I'm sitting in the doctor's office
Counting the tiles on the floor.
I've been here for over an hour,
But it absolutely feels like more.
Have they forgotten I am here
Stuck in a two by four room?
It's supposedly the examining area
But its' eeriness is comparable to a tomb.
Payment must be rendered upon entering,
Which seems a little bit out of whack.
Should I decide to leave before he sees me,
May I respectfully request my money back?
Appointments seem pointless
As it appears to be on a first come basis.
With an appointment at ten and still waiting at noon
It is difficult to be gracious.
Eventually I flag down a nurse
To find out how much longer I must wait.
She says dinner is at five o'clock
And that she'd set me up with a plate.
Tis' a grand entrance the doc makes
Strolling in nonchalantly and carefree.
He glances over my chart remarking
How wonderful things seem to be.
Arising after only a few minutes,
At his watch he causally peaks.
Then he tells me to check with the nurse,
And he'll see me again in six weeks.
THE FLU SHOT BLUES
On Thursday I rushed to a clinic.
I knew the lines would be long,
But what a surprise upon my arrival
To find the vaccine already gone.
Friday morning I was twentieth in line,
Feeling good and so alive.
Then it was announced only Medicare B,
And you must be sixty five.
My efforts never waivered.
I was please with how I was coping
Until Saturday when I read the cancelled sign.
The clinic had closed before it opened.
I've run from county to county
All to no avail
For the elusive vaccination
Simply is not for sale.
I'm not sure what comes next.
Think I'll phone all my closest friends
And tell them I'll be in my room
Until the flu season ends.
SNOW TRAUMA
Take this snow and shovel it!
I can't take it anymore.
Perchance a flare or two,
But the rest go back to the store.
Can't afford much heat.
The thermostat's kept low.
I admit it gets quite chilly,
But I'm tough, don't ya know.
With the bone-chilling cold
I'm left intensely numb.
The snow has buried everything,
But I vow to overcome.
Still there's times I'm overwhelmed
And wail I've had enough.
Especially when I'm indoors reading
And just exhaling makes my glasses steam up.
Florida has crossed my mind.
I thought it sounded nice
Until I saw the photos
Of oranges encased in ice.
Now you've heard my tale of woe
And there's one thing you may surmise;
The weather stinks and I'm on the brink
Of being permanently traumatized.