My 17 Syllables of Fame

The last time I entered a poetry contest, I was 18, and in search of a scholarship prize of $500.  I didn't win anything, except the opportunity to spend $75 on a poetry anthology that had the literary ambience of an encyclopedia.  Suffice it to say, I didn't splurge on a copy of my "published work".  Because even at 18, I was wise enough to know that if I ever needed a makeshift booster seat, I could get a phone book for free.

Fast forward many years and subtract about ten inches of height from my bangs, and I find myself engaging again in competitive iambic pentameter.  Only this time, the contest prizes include mommy gear and Little Debbies.  And nothing motivates me like an Oatmeal Cream Pie.   

Anyway, much to my surprise, my haiku about New Year's Resolutions is one of 5 finalists, and voting is going on all weekend at Rocks in my Dryer to choose the winner.   You decide, America.   And if any of you guys want to share in the loot, Little Debbies included, I suggest you get on over there and Rock the Vote.  But only if you are going to vote for this one:

Treasure fleeting hours
While little feet run the halls.
Toss the to-do list.

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