I think I've mentioned in this journal my recent discovery of "CSI"... The reruns of the original.
Joanna came all the way from Virginia to get me hooked on this show I'd never watched before, which led to my developing a huge crush on Grissom. I now watch two hours of CSI every evening, on Spike.
I had been skipping my "daily poem" lately, and some of my fans mentioned this. So I forced myself to write the following rhyme:
I’ll try to write a poem, since I’m in the house alone;
I’d better do it quickly, for the girls will soon be home.
I’ve rhymed all my adventures as a grandma and a wife:
There’s not that much excitement in my silly little life.
I’ve written verse on every subject I can talk about:
I’ve rhymed some prayers for rain, when we were going through a drought;
I’ve done some several poems on my husband and my pets
(And most of them were feeble works I’d just as soon forget).
And yet, I do have readers, and some say they miss my rhymes,
So I’ll attempt to make some poems about my life and times.
I’ll try to look around me and see different things each day,
So when I write a poem, I’ll have something new to say.
And now, my gentle readers, it is time for a confession...
Here's a major reason that I miss my rhyming session:
The time when once I wrote my poems (I cannot deny)
Is now spent watching Grissom gather clues on CSI.
It was a pitiful attempt, but that last verse is true. If it weren't for CSI, I'd probably sit at my computer and write one of my mediocre poems every night. Anyhow, guilt took over, and I jump-started myself with that poem. Then I received the following poem from one of my readers in California. She's also a long-time chat friend.
I've read them all and saved a few
Her life is fascinating
To a woman such as I
Who'd soon be abdicating
City life all crowded in
And find my farm life waiting,
But now I know that I can see
Just what that farm wife's waiting
With joy to watch; her favorite boy,
Who criminals berating,
Calms all our fears, (and such cute ears)!
With DNA debating.
I like to read of farm and Blue
But nowI am equating
Those cows and corn and maters,too,
With Hunk who's so elating.
I forget the farm so soon.
For CSI's fine rating.
Now, Cliff was already having fun with Grissom, pointing out how bow-legged he is (I said, "Yeah, Cliff... he rides a BIG horse." (Of course everybody knows real cowboys are bow-legged from riding horses all day.)
Now that he's read Colleen's poem, he calls my hunk "squirrel ears".
We sure have fun around here.