Winner Grinner Spinner

Last Sunday after dinner at my nephew's, I played Star Wars Monopoly with him & his 2 oldest boys. Eventually I won and got to recite this poem.

Winner Grinner Spinner
21 June 2013

I won, I won!
I'm number one!
It was hard won
But so much fun.
When all was said and done,
I'm the favorite son.
I won, I won!
I'm number one!
It was hard won
But so much fun.
When all was said and done,
I'm the favorite son.
I won, I won!
I'm number one!
It was hard won
But so much fun.
When all was said and done,
I'm the favorite son.
I won, I won!
Ad nauseam.

After all the action
I'm getting traction
From the satisfaction
Of your reaction.
From the composition
Of your disposition
It's an imposition,
I'll supposition.
In addition
I have a premonition
You'll commission
My verbal rendition
As future ammunition.

Hard-Won Dry Run

When I went to the Affirmation conference for gay and lesbian Mormons in September, one of the speakers was Joanna Brooks at the Kirtland Temple. Yesterday as I was driving home from dinner at my nephew's, I was surprised to hear her being interviewed on NPR. Today there was a new post from her blog. Someone had written in asking about going back to church after a period of inactivity. This poem is a response to her blog.

Hard-Won Dry Run

24 October 2011

Here’s a plan for your first time going back.

Pick a chapel where two or three wards meet.

This maximizes chaos and minimizes flack.

You simply go into the foyer and have a seat.

There you can watch the toddlers running,

The Primary girls sharing stories and gossip,

The young men bettering each other’s cunning

And parents doing their best to worship.

When you’ve had enough, as you please

Get up and leave. No harm, no foul.

Most chapels are built with entries

On both sides in the back. When you prowl, 

And people are filing in, you join the tide 

To collect a program. Then continue 

Across the chapel and out the other side.

The flyer will have information about the who

And what of ward events. You now know

About potlucks and campouts, activities

That let you mingle on your status quo

Without violating your own proclivities.

This poem was made by a guy

Who hasn’t attended in years,

Is once-burned, twice-shy

And understands your fears.