Even into boring lives some rain (And an occasional snow flake or two) must fall. There was no snow yesterday until I posted, then we had about an inch or so fall and woke to a head cold. Sneezing, and a runny nose.
I went to the chiropractor. He showed me a neck x-ray with arthritis (which I knew). He adjusted my neck because it had lost some of its natural curve. I do know that it is sore even with the ice pack.
The bank at Indian Head Pa. was robbed again yesterday and although I haven't watched the news, it's being said that this robber was captured. I feel really sorry for the tellers to have been robbed not once but twice.

Poetry's an art and a talent
important words, rightly bought and spent.
Some artists work with clay, paint, or stone.,
but a writer uses words alone.
Writers write in order to express
what other souls might try to repress.
I write stories, tales, and words that rhyme.
I love to write and write and write anytime,
writing of people, places, or things.
I make tales gallop or give them wings,
make them roll trippingly off the tongue,
about someone old or someone young
I'll write about the living or dead
or create someone out of my head.
Strength of a pen is mighty indeed
bringing to light corruption or greed.
Each writer will shape words to their will
sharing their thoughts with infinite skill,
sharing plots of love and tenderness.
Writing words that will curse or bless.
Writing takes lots of effort and time
Whether writing stories, tales, or rhyme.