Signal Strength: Revolutionary Blogging Poem

Seeking strength,
I went to my Temple.
Upstairs,
the signal
was never strong.
But today,
when I needed it most,
it was five bars,
loud and clear.
I sat,
by myself,
in my corridor,
(having met Santa twice already),
and connected
more than I have in awhile.
Soon,
after being surrounded
by art
(Russian Impressionism),
tuba,
Utah Lake mud tile,
and children,
I will go find milk
and a cookie.
This is worship.
This is connection.
This is receiving
the signal
at the Temple.

Enjoying Your Cheese: Romantic ConTEXTing Iambic Haiku

As long as your sweet/
decoutage’ is milk creamy,/
like frommage, we’re fine.