A Quintet of Silliness

In the tundra you’ll not find
A stand of trees of any kind.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
A hologram is just the thing
To make the holy angels sing.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Anyone who sings at dawn
Should just shut up and be gone!
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
No parking in the garden, no parking close to trees!
But if I cannot park there, then tell me where, O please!
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Touch my lips and touch my crown,
Pick me up and set me down.
Let this be your lifelong task—
Is this much too much to ask?

 
Poems © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #170
 
More Poetry Pantry #411 at Poets United