Speaking while hiking: a pronunciation guide for the trail

Put your foot
into a boot.
Check the map,
and choose your route.

If, on your hike in,
your route sounds like "boot,"
then, on your way out,
try to speak of your route.

Was it a Seizure to Seize Her?

The doctor will know,
I expect,
when he sees her.

It might be a seizure
that happened to seize her.

In Rome,
I am told,
It once happened
to Caesar.

"This exhibit's a bust."

With thanks to Jim and Jane for letting 'er rip when the lunch-time inspiration seized 'em

The Sewing was just So So

The sewing was just so so
on the field hand's dungarees.

So, after all the sowing,
and germination of the seeds,

When the time came for weeding,
He would bend down on his knees,

And, more often than not,
His dungarees would split,

Right up the backside,
And you'd hear him mutter,

"Aw, SH...

...ucks!"

Whether They'll Whither

Whether or not the flowers will whither

depends on the weather,

and whether the weather's been dryer or wetter.

And whether or not they can weather the weather,

Also depends on

whether or not

they've had enough water

(or too much).

Unless I'm Wrong, I'm Right.

Unless I'm wrong (or left), I'm right -

With pen in hand, I write.

A maker is a wright.

A priest performs a rite.

Underwear Shopping On the Isle of Guile

For some strange reason,

on the Isle of Guile,

the underwear aisle

seems to stretch for a mile.

And after you've browsed

for a little while,

you can tell that - 

here on the Isle - 

polka dots

are always in style.

Faithful Hound

Although we didn't know where to go,

or how,

or when,

or what to do,

but to march on...

"Ruff! Ruff!" barked the dog, when the going got tough,

and the weather got rough,

and we trudged through icky, sticky, stuff.

That dog got us through.

He knew what do do.

But how did he know the way to go?

Or how to lift the hearts of men,

who had lost all hope.

Emptied of pride,

grown men stopped in their tracks and cried.

And doubtless, many would have died,

but for our canine friend.

When, at last, our homeward march was done,

amidst the rising of the sun,

I marveled that each and every one of us was there.

The prize we'd sought when we'd begun

was lost to us.

We hadn't won.

And yet we did, by that return,

escape the ultimate defeat.

And so, on that night, and every night since then,

for his faithfulness to all my men,

the choicest cut of meat and bone,

I serve to him, and him alone.

Brave Matilda

Under the old wizard's gaze, students usually whither.

But not brave Matilda,

who kept her wits with her,

when he asked her,

"With which little witch did you switch?"

"Switch what?" she replied,

looking straight in his eyes.

And although he was easily three times her size,

he seemed smaller than she was

for a moment, and then 

he coughed and said, "I wondered whether..."

But then he just trailed off.

And he walked off.

And we all dispersed,

Wondering if somehow

The old man she'd cursed.

Holey, Wholly, Holy

With lots of holes, it's holey.

With all its piece, wholly.

God alone is holy.

Buzzing Bees

The thing I learned from the beekeeper was,
a hive of bees will always buzz.

The reason why is because,
buzzing's what a bee does.

You Can Count (to Five) on Me

It isn't dumb
to use your thumb
to count.

Some sums
require the thumbs -

Especially those
divisible by
five.

The Sensitive Plum Eater

With great aplomb
he stuck a plum
upon his thumb.

Then he held it high
up to the sky,
a tear in his eye,
(I don't know why.
He's a sensitive guy).

Then he ate it.

News You Can Use

Here's some news that you can use:

If you should lose your brand new shoes,
don't lose heart!
Before you start
to search,

Just lie
down and do
your best to try
to shut your eyes,
and take a snooze.

You may dream of important clues.

Then, when you wake,
go back again
to all the places you have been.

If you still can't find them anywhere,
Chin up!
Don't give in to despair.

I've got some flip flops you can wear.

Here a Tear, There a Tear

Here is where I got a tear
in my favorite shirt.

It didn't hurt.
But I LOVED! that shirt.

So, there is where I shed a tear
about it.

The joyful noise of unchaperoned boys

All the boys grew quiet when our counselor said,
"That's it! You're on your own. I quit!"

But as he stormed off in a huff,
I knew I hadn't had quite enough.

And conferring with the other boys,
our quiet soon gave way to NOISE.

"Good riddance!" someone said.

And we all hiked on ahead.

We're Where We Were

We're right where we were
when we weren't sure
we'd ever get home again.

And unless we avoid
coming back here again,
we might not.

Misfire and Getaway

The archer gripped his trusty bow,
drew an arrow,
let it go,

accidentally struck a cow,
and, fearing it might cause a row,
he took a rather hasty bow,
and disappeared into the crowd,
whose cheers by then had grown so loud,
no one heard him throw his bow
into the bow of his boat or no-
tice as he took up oar and oar,
to row, row, row to the opposite shore.

He tied up his boat,
mounted his horse
(who was surprised to see him so soon, of course)
and rode off down the road.

He never did return again.
And so he never knew that when
the farmer pulled the arrow out,
the cow was perfectly fine.

Banished from the Bakery

The morning rolls were oh so nice,
I asked the baker for advice.

"To fluffy up your daily bread, you need to kneed the dough," he said.

"I see," I said. "And how do they rise, just so to this specific size?"

"The yeast!" he said. "You knead it through. And then the bread knows what to do."

"It does?" I asked, a bit confused.
(That bread could "know" to me was news.)

"Of course it does!" he spat right back
(as if I'd made a rude attack).

Seeing the look of hurt in his eyes, I did my best to apologize.

But the damage was done.
The baker stormed off.

Then, clearing his throat with a dignified cough,
"It does!" he declared, and SLAMMED the door.

I don't go to that bakery any more.

The Daring Young Waiter on the Flying Trapeze

Without spilling a pea from a bowl full of peas,
or losing a slice from a plate piled with cheese,
the daring young waiter on the flying trapeze
sailed over our heads with the greatest of ease,
a look on his face of absolute peace,
each hair of his mustache painstakingly greased.
At the pinnacle of his swing, we all gasped.
He released!
Then flipped five or six times!
(I wasn't quite able
to be sure of the count.)
He landed at our table.
Bravo! We all cheered.
And though the menu was weird,
I'd come back anytime for such service.

The Ultimate Race

My rival and I,
We traded the lead,
As up hills and down hills we sped.
First he,
and then I,
and then again he
overtook the leader
and led.

But on the last uphill, he passed me once more.
And as he did he said,
"How much do you want this?"
That was it!
Six words!
Like the arrow to Achilles' heel when he bled.

The fire in my heart
That had fueled me from the start
went out.
My legs felt like lead.
With astonishing speed,
I lost my lead.
My rival, he raced on ahead.
And as I faded back
into the pelaton pack,
His words spun round and around in my head:

How much did I want this?

Not enough was my answer.
And that's why I became
a dancer
instead.

The Herring Plate in the Bering Strait

We were bearing straight
through the Bering Strait,
when I looked at my watch.
It was nine fifty eight!
I asked our waiter why our food was so late.
"It isn't," he said, and delivered our plate
of herring
for sharing.
Oh, boy! Was it great!
Freshly caught.
Piping hot.
Without question - worth the wait!

Why not buy a new gnu?

If I knew then what I know now,
I'd never buy a new gnu.

I love my gnu. I really do.

But for the price of two new gnus,
You can buy six or seven gnus used.

And even if the odd one's bruised,
You'd still have a working herd.

That's at least what I have heard.

The Sloppy Patron

The sloppy patron had the guile
To leave a sticky, stinky pile
Of empty wrappers in the aisle
Right there beside his feet.
(And two rows behind me).

No one could pass
Around or through.
And none of us knew what to do,
Until the ushers came and threw
It out,
and with it, you know who.
(I sneaked this photo from my seat...)