I do believe that some Silver B.L.O.B.s are in order here! ;-) Now that my thumb is less swollen and finally fits into a bandaid, I'm back in shape to dish 'em out!

To Amos, for 'keeping up appearances' around here with:

When I sent that tacky pine thing back to Walmart,
You'll forgive me if I did not look within!
How was I to know you'd put her ashes in it?
Cuz it's not like having standards is a sin!

To Jack the Sailor for his setting of the sybling set-to in:

Well the handle it was broken
When Judy unwrapped her Christmas Prez
But her sister was inside it
At least that is what her brother sez

To mo chara, derrymacash, for this description of the sister's just desserts:

But her hopes for a gift of renown were soon dashed
She moaned with dismay "A box full of ash!"
For she had been naughty, haughty and brash
Bitchy and mean and unpleasant
And she imagined St Nick sort the bad and the good
In the former compartment placing our Jude
And scooping the remnants of burnt-out firewood
And making them into her present

AND for this pithy commentary of the 'hole' business:

But ashes are fickle debris
Easy victim to vapours and humours
Happier folks we would be
If we knew that the earth would entomb us
Not to be flambeéd or fried
Not to be flame-grilled or seared
But in a fine box to reside
Complete with a long silver beard
(Or some other sign of great age …)

To MMario, a Double Dip of the S.L.O.B. for these evocative verses:

On her mantle
She puts me on constant display
In a new box, bought today.

No more broken, Walmart boxes
No more trash bins and dumpsters
A new urn holds me, a new wheel turning
Another life unfolding


Well done, my darlin's -- Keep 'em coming!

-- Áine (the less thumbless . . .)