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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Scribble and Scrambles ~ St. Patty Lame-Poem...


Top of the Evenin to Ya

A little Poem in honor of St. Patrick and Green Stuff

My name is Kelly
Doesn't get more Irish than that... jiggity, jiggity, jig
I write, so I must be a poet... jiggity, jiggity, jig
I speak much blarney, I birthed a St Patty day babe...jiggity, jiggity, jig

My dad's name is Patrick...jiggity, jiggity, jig

St. Patrick, or someone, played songs and lured snakes, or was it rats, or mayhaps children...jiggity, jiggity, jig
I lure dogs with little brown bones and chewy fake steaks...jiggity, jiggity, jig
So if you're in Ireland kiss the Blarney Stone and if you are in America eat corned beef and cabbage and celebrate with a jiggity, jiggity, jig.

Mayhaps this poem is MUCH better if read after a stumble/minor head injury during a riverdance jiggity, jiggity, jig