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Mutters
by Charles E MinshallI love the colors of fall,
But cleaning up the leaves
Is not my call.
Leaves on the roof
And clogging gutters,
Cover up your ears
Don't hear my mutters.
The foul mutters I use
Are muttered in vain,
They don't do any clean up
But I've vented my pain.
The time is near
For the BVDs,
When I'll mutter again
Over winters freeze. 10/25/2008 Posted on 10/26/2008
Copyright © 2025 Charles E Minshall
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 10/26/08 at 05:05 AM Indeed. I think just about every season brings it with some pain in the ass chores though. Heh. Nicely done. |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 10/26/08 at 06:56 PM What's a mutter(er) to do! Okay, now I'll "leaf" you alone. Fun, CharMin, thanks. |
| Posted by A. Paige White on 10/26/08 at 07:33 PM gutter mutters... oh yeah. I bet we can all relate to it. I do love to smell them burning though, so that's my reward. The smell ALWAYS brings back some of the best memories I have of camping trips with family and loved ones, sitting around a campfire singing songs, telling stories... I guess that's why fall is my favorite season. Charming poem CharM! |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/27/08 at 03:14 AM Very fun, in spite of your muttering, Charlie, you manage to make me smile. Thank you. |
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