Trophy Wives, Season 6, 2014-2015

Chief, Polly, Laurie, Val, Vivian, Susan


A Spicy Golfing Mix

Trophy Wives, I welcome you 

To Season number Six.

We've proven thru the years to be 

A spicy golfing mix.

I hope that all your summers' were 

Befitting of a queen,

Lavishing in travels, 

And spending all your green.

Now it's time to reunite and 

Share our summer stories.

Take in all the sunshine and 

Bask in all our glories!

Sandy, Vivian, Ardella, Laurie, Chief

Cooking Birds

Turkey Wives, put aprons on

And prep your birds for heat.

Internal temp one eighty renders

Tender juicy meat.

Then sit beside your loved ones.

Be thankful. Spread some cheer.

Pour your most expensive wine,

Rejoice that family's near.

Then pack them each a doggy bag,

And send them on their way.

You're Trophy Wives Remember?

Our Motto is "Let's PLAY!"

Sandy and Vivian


Pay To Play

Trophy Wives are gamers.

And I'm not naming namers.

But when we play, and what we pay,

Will make the "winners" famers!

Golf gods can be jerks.

Momentum has its quirks.

Shot one's astray; it lost its way

Shot two's now in the works!

But geriatric jokesters,

With knees and necks in holsters.

Will see someday their disarray 

And lose their bragging bolsters!

Carol, Chief, Laurie

Trophy Books

Trophy wives are interested

In novels... mysteries.

Inquisitively questioning 

Our reading histories.

Perhaps in leu of golf clubs,

Their dreadful fades and hooks.

We opt to take up reading,

Cocktails and some books!

Vivian and Ardella

Winning All The Dough

Trophy Wives excessively, 

Succeed in life successfully.

Despite some inequality,

Or constant frivolity. 

We're passionate at playing games.

Excited when we hear our names.

Except when we repeatedly,

Turn putts from one to two then three!

In jest we spread or Trophy word

Uncaring if we sound absurd.

The goal is winning all the dough.

A language we've all come to know!

Vivian, Susan, Sandy, Ardella

Deflated Balls

Trophy Wives don't give a crap,

If all our balls 'deflated.'

Cuz if and when they find the cup,

We all are so elated!

Next week when we play our round,

We'll rub our dimpled ball.

And watch it launch into thin air,

Then find the cup and fall!

Laurie and Ardella

Avery & Jake

Trophy Wives have cloudy days,

And balls that fly through thick grey haze.

They soar above the trees that split,

'Til sand is where they finally sit.

Too fluffy just to pluck it out.

We smash and bash and bitch and shout.

The green is where it needs to be.

We want the score to be Net Three!

A just reward the team will take.

A kiss from Avery and Jake!

Jake and Avery (Vivian"s Grandchildren)

Animal Lovers

Trophy Wives love animals,

With or without tails.

Preferably a purr or sigh,

Not screeches, gasps or wails.

Ardella killed a ducky-poo,

And Sandy saved a mole.

Two dogs were spared coyote meal,

On the seventeenth hole.

On number 8 when Mitch arrived

With Lily in his arm,

We learned how scary bites can be;

The trauma and the harm.

For someone who does not have pets,

And calls herself a Chief.

I'm writing down this poem now,

And sighing with relief.

 Ardella

A Chiefly Do-Over

Trophy Wives need Do-overs; Make-overs; Repeats.

Lift-me-ups; Pick-me-ups; Rewinds from Defeats.

Face-lifts; Ego boosts; Refreshers and then...

Yoga; Pilates; Aqua Sports and Zen.

Anything to turn back the clock and say, "Hey!"

Who invaded my body that day?

Erring is human; It's all part of life.

But not when your title is, "Chief Trophy Wife!"

Thank goodness for Partners and Thursday's and Wine.

With great Wives like You, I know I'll be Fine.

Vivian, Laurie, Ardella, Chief, Val

Trophy Pot-Luck

Trophy wives so tastefully,

Converse at Pot-luck's gracefully. 

Caesar speckled salty glass.

Toasting to our upper class.

Pizza sizzling under dome.

Laurie's dog-less gorgeous home.

Chief adorned in suit and hat.

Nasty talking this and that.

Teddies, panties, boxers, tees,

Boy shorts, house-coats, flip-flops, sleaze.

Garments that we wear at night,

We all discussed by fire light.

Then came time to leave the house,

And practice kinky with our spouse!

Sandy, Laurie, Cheryle, Chief, Ardella, Val, Vivian

Sinners

Trophy Wives are Winners.

Enjoying Birthday Dinners.

They Win their Flight,

With All their Might,

Then spend their Nights as Sinners!

Chief and Laurie

Anne and Sandy

A Bit of Nostalgia

Trophy's are nostalgic,

Observant lady creatures.

Keen to inequalities,

Yet lauding flawless features.

Like chiefly boobs caressed in bras,

That always need a raise.

And noticing that Jonsey's skin,

Deserves some added praise.

We hunger for the simple things;

Cheese Whiz spread on Ritz;

Anne's thick hair with perfect sheen;

And Haley's perky tits.

No wonder when we're cocktailing,

An audience draws near.

Trophy Wives say risqué  things,

That others want to hear!

 Susan, Vivian, Sandy

Champions

Trophy Wives know how to live,

Vicariously thru Jo and Viv.

Who showed they're masters in their flight.

Their smiles feature sheer delight.

For they're the ones who made it through.

Shot 2-2-9 and 2-9-2.

Congrats from all of us

To you!

Joanne and Vivian


Find My Phone!

Trophy Wives use cellphones,

And they don't sweat the cost.

But "Find My Phone"

Perplexes them

Because the damn thing's lost!

The App was on the cellphone,

And that cannot be seen.

The techno geeks in cellphone land

Are definitely mean!

Laurie, Chief

Pearls of Wisdom

Trophy Wives love pearls.

They're cultured, classy, sheik.

Luminescent balls of white 

Sophisticated, sleek.

Renee Russo had worn them,

In making the "Tin Cup"

Now Trophy Wives adorn them,

So things are looking up!

Sandy and Vivian

Vivian's Hole-in-One

Trophy Wives must be informed

What Mrs. Jones has done.

In team play out at Indian Wells

She scored a Hole-in-One!

The distance was identified;

One hundred twenty-two.

Elevated tee with wind,

Was all that Jonesy knew.

A seven iron was the club

That hit the green and rolled

Right in the cup on Seventeen

And now her story's told.

Sandy & Vivian

Susan, Kyla, Sandy, Vivian, Chief

Laurie, Sandy

The Longest Wait

Trophy Wives were in a race,

Though none of them had known it.

The threesome at the finish line were, 

Freko, Francis, Fugate.

With onion rings, hard lemonade,

Digesting in their belly.

They watched the Masters casually,

Up on the clubhouse telly.

Some sixty minutes later,

The others filled their guts.

A just reward for focusing, 

Intensely on their putts.

Some sage advice for future rounds, 

That start off with a gun.

You're greatest chance for keeping up,

Are 18 holes-in-one!

 

Susan, Vivian, Ardella, Laurie, Chief at Vickies

Sandy, Polly, Carol, Susan, Vivian, Cheryle
Ardela, Val, Laurie, Chief

Two Tequila Floor

Trophy Wives can take a shot

On or off a tee.

Tequila with a squeeze of lime,

Whichever pleases she.

For when she's in a party mode,

Tequila does the trick.

Sprinkle salt upon your hand

Then take a sloppy lick.

No matter what the toast is for,

A hole-in-one or 94,

We practice with tequila more,

And end up on the dancing floor!