Ten-Finger Exercises

happy birthday to Bill

I suppose, if I want to blog at all today, I'd better get at it. Bill will be home for supper any minute, and wants to go to a movie tonight, a play tomorrow. His birthdays, since they're on Thanksgiving weekend, always seem to extend for several days.

I submitted two poems to a magazine today. And here is a silly one I penned to respond to someone who wrote into the poetry newsletter asking how many stanzas it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop.

The Lifespan of a Tootsie Pop

A Tootsie Pop, it must be told,
Is sometimes young, and sometimes old
Before it’s finally passed away
Into the tummy, there to stay.

The timing of it, I surmise,
Depends upon the eater’s size.
As big and old kids chomp and chew,
In stanzas’ worth, it would take two

For little ones who lick and stop,
Put down, forget, and leave their Pop,
It will take far more stanzas, see,
To reach the part that’s chocolaty.

But with the average suck, I’d say,
The poem wouldn’t last all day.
The tongue would reach the center core
In stanza, maybe, five—or four.