Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I look at my hand
the expanding wrinkles
like unmarked country roads,
the old veins like baby snakes
of mountain blue sunning themselves
on granite rock skin, spotted
discolored and chapped, this hand
is so familiar to me, there is no
other like it, and no doubt
that it belongs to me, I know this hand

like the back of my hand

now I've done it....taken a perfectly
good poem and killed it with a faux pun
some puns are clever, others make you groan
I must confess here and now before my peers
I am a punaholic on a six decade binge
a pun-user with a daily habit, some call me
Punster Non Gratis, and some call me
Punelope Cruz, and if I'm not repuntant
in the end I could be pun-ished for this,
or even worse ....sent to the punitentiary

This made me snicker.

I like the poem begins seriously enough,
and then...well, it gets punny in a funny way.

Thanks for the laugh; it is a rainy day
and I am at work. I needed it. I wish
I could think of a cleverer pun, but I just
can't at the moment.

a hand leaking ...

Ah one apun at a time it comes to my own to hand back to you some phun! got a good smile from me for the breakfist read I tend to be repundent with my punisments upune my family with puns . I like bothparts of the poem in thier own light. enjoyed