Death of a Lemon Thingy

I’ve never claimed to be a good cook.

In the kitchen I just fake it.

But that Keto friendly lemon thingy,

Well, I thought I’d try and bake it.

It’s made from scratch, not a mix,

So I tried to get into the groove.

I measured, mixed, stirred and blended,

But this shit just wouldn’t get smooth.

So I shoved the damn thing in the oven,

Set the timer and hoped for the best.

An hour later, this shit’s still runny.

Is this some sort of a test?

Three hours later, the middle’s still wiggly

And the lemon’s not even zingy.

This frosting shit needs cut with a knife.

It’s the death of a lemon thingy.

 

Written by Taffy O’

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In the Night

In the midst of the night

The Dark Prince, he takes flight

In search of his fair skinned maiden

Her senses aware

She feels his presence there

While lying in the night waiting

The young maiden has no fear

As her Dark Prince does appear

Yet wonders is this but a dream

They gaze into each other’s eyes

As if passionately hypnotized

She is too entranced to scream

Then with one fleeting bite

The two own the night

Locked in eachother’s embrace

Yet with the rising sun

The Dark Prince he is gone

Leaving not a trace

But the mark upon her soul

From whence the passion did unfold

And this fair skinned maiden

Her senses aware

She feels his presence there

While lying in the night waiting

written by Taffy OKelly

Grandpa

The greatest man I ever knew

Lived at 414 Richmond Avenue.

LaGrange Park, IL was the town

Where this man so world renown

In the beautiful ballroom would entertain

When he wasn’t driving the Sante Fe Train.

He would play the guitar and he would sing.

When he tickled the ivories, he made them ring.

Friends and family would gather around

Just so they could hear the sound

Of the piano playing and the songs he sung.

I’d sit right by him, I was so young.

I was amazed and perhaps in awe

Of this great man, Harry Roland, my grandpa.

Sometimes he’d do little magic tricks,

I’d watch real close because he was quick.

Then I’d look at him and say

“Grandpa, how’d you do that anyway?”

And, of course, he wouldn’t tell,

Not wanting to break his magic spell.

He loved entertaining everyone.

He was so cool and so much fun.

I remember we went for ice cream one day,

We stopped at the bank along the way.

The teller said she’d like one too,

So he dropped her ice cream at the drive thru.

I guess, at heart, he was a big kid

Who enjoyed life and all he did.

But grandpa was also very wise.

I could always go to him for advice.

He lived life to the fullest, right up to the end.

He was my hero, confidant, friend.

Then one day my grandpa was gone.

He’d played his last tune, sung his last song.

He was very unique in his own way

And I love and miss him still to this day.

I carry his memory deep in my heart,

So we’ll never be truly apart.

And if I close my eyes I can see

Grandpa at the piano, singing to me.

Written by Taffy OKelly 5-17-1999