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My review has been submitted for consideration in "
Perfect limerick style
Great humor
Rhythm and rhyme -- spot on!
Loved the choice of words, "aplomb" "cordite" used in the third presentation of turkey doom. I think that was favorite of the three. However, the buildup was great right through to the finale. 
Good Limerick style! 
You followed the contest rules.
You have brought back memories that made me 8 years-old again. My mind wandered to life in the fifties and the innocence we otherwise had growing up but for the imminent threat of war. I remember being scared to death in the sixties when Kruschev was banging his shoe on the podium in a threatening fashion. 
You know something? It was sort of a life in black and white. Our TV shows were not in color. It took a while to start them up and a while to watch them go dark after being turned off.
Otherwise, the impending rain is something we have all thought about as our plans do depend on the weather at times. 
I found your item while perusing the Public Review page. Your title and brief description drew me into wanting to read it.
I could really relate to this poem because I've had the same sensations about her spirit being around after she passed away. I even talk to her at times and my mind perceives what she would be saying to me. Sometimes it's a simple thing like asking her to help guide me through one of her favorite recipes to be sure I don't mess it up.
I have spent many days penning Haikus and Senryus during the challenging contest "
I liked the big picture that you painted with so few words. Being one who loves the ocean, appreciating its power and hidden dangers, this poem reached out to me in a profound way.
Complete portrait of the ocean's raging is tied together with winter entering the scene and the changes that come with that season.
I've lived by both the Atlantic and the Pacific oceans, as well as the Gulf of Mexico. They each have their own form of beauty and rage. However, I think I perceived more change and roiling about with the waves' clashing in the Pacific. I miss it, but not so much the state where I used to live as it has become in recent years.
Nicely penned Haiku
The AI soldiers were to defeat and beat down the evil forces that escape into the wormhole every so many years to wreak havoc on the populous. This wicked witch would meet her comeuppance and suffer the wrath of the soldiers from another time.
The wormhole timing is the essence of their ability to complete their task.
) 
I like the way you set up the characters into the position to solve the mystery.
I even enjoyed the amusing thought of picturing Old Mrs. Stone coming clean with the embarrassing truth.
You solved a mystery in exactly 20 sentences
I loved the amusing ending and the fact that Mrs. Stone is the birth mother of Mayor Writon! 
You managed to dig up some real dirt that needed to be buried in Bardstown and never divulged publicly. Yes, it's true that a fire can burn what is printed--but what about what is imprinted between hubby and wife? 
Such a scandal should this be if the truth ever leaked out. However, the family ancestry tree will become an interesting oddity for the generations to come! 
Who was the baby switcher/s
Ireland, music, jewels and clouds ...this folder has it all.
There's also a place for my favorite WDC pet, "Boo" not that I don't love "Hooves," too! 
Top it all off with silver and gold, and you have brought to life a jewel of a folder filled with all things precious! 
Music is the connection to everyday life and memories and dreams.It heals and soothes.
The fairies, goddesses, and princesses, too. It is a fabulous dream come true for the young and old, as well. You put the magic into everyday life and let your readers escape for a few precious moments of "what ifs." What if I lived in a palace? With fantasy, we can all be there front row and center. Such is the pen of an author and a wonderful muse to bring it all together.
This was an enthralling drive in that Ford Escape! I felt the road beneath me, the feel of great suspension, the softness of the seats. Then, I got hungry from the aroma of French Fries. I felt the steering wheel's ridges and how comfortably my fingers grip the leather covering. I see the road ahead, and behind in the rear view mirror. And, yes, the taste of those salty fries does linger. I even heard the sigh released from the driver's lips!
And, if that was a prompt word -- it fit nicely into the whole them of the poem.
I'm a winter child, too, although I'm in February. But I loved reading about such a special birthday, the night before Christmas. The light of saving grace was shone upon you. I could feel the love, faith and spirit woven within the lines of your poem.