This is the poem I recently wrote for a poetry contest.
A tush motivated by the mush,
while another tush is elliptically commanded to mush.
Beads of sweat scour baggy sweats,
it looks like a dicey bakery -
butter and rolls are making bets.
The yoga instructor is out for the weekend.
yoga is on the couch, eating chocolate,
and devouring your meek-friend.
Ride motivation like a crotch rocket,
whatever you do, don’t stop-it,
persistence and movement encased in the same locket,
always moving - mimic that watch inside your pocket.
A New Year begins on Winter’s frost,
resolutions start to toss - while hanging from a chocolate cross.
Four months later, you’ve resolved to eating chocolate covered moss.
We’ll keep your secret while you exercise in Victoria’s underwear.
Stay clear of yesteryear, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Wait! - You mustn't hibernate, there’s too much at stake.
For goodness sake, leave that to a bear.
You’ve got holiday parties to bear
and ugly Christmas sweaters to wear.
Company parties with eggnog - liquored and spiced.
Attempts at the president’s vice to become your new vice.
Make a girl’s toes curl to a tippy toe,
while she’s kissing you under a Mistletoe.
Kiss her progressively slow, just go with the flow,
she stops and says, “It’s February,
what’s up with the Mistletoe?”