Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Holiday Frenzy

Everyplace is crowded
As the holiday draws nigh
And frenzied shoppers roam the aisles
To buy, buy, buy, buy, buy.

Another side dish for the feast?
Some extra beer or wine?
A brand-new tablecloth?
(Although the old one still looks fine.)

A jazzy outfit so they’ll feel
Both festive and in style?
Perhaps some decorations
To make guests take note and smile?

The cashiers ring up purchases;
The buyers leave the store
But rarely head straight home because
They have to shop some more!

Monday, November 23, 2015

This November Feast

My friend makes everything from scratch
For her Thanksgiving meal
And all of it delectable
With savory appeal.

Her table’s filled with choices
From the soup to the desserts,
Though no one quite appreciates
The effort she exerts.

I’ve often been a guest of hers
And it was such a treat
To know that every bite would be
The best thing you could eat.

This holiday we’ll be at home.
The soup came ready-made;
The pies and corn bread also
Baked at Fairway,* I’m afraid.

My husband will prepare the rest.
His cooking is ambitious
And though it won’t be Susan’s,
It will also be delicious.

Of course at this November feast
The food is not what counts,
Despite the fact that we’ll devour
Copious amounts.

If you’re in luck, then family
And friends will join the ranks
Of all the people sitting down
Together to give thanks.

*a local supermarket

Sunday, November 22, 2015

My Husband Wants Chicken

Certain holidays have foods
You cannot do without,
Like turkey on Thanksgiving
‘Cause that’s what it’s all about.

A vegetarian might try
To substitute tofu
Or any other recipes
For which I have no clue.

But otherwise, there’s no excuse
To do without the bird.
Just contemplating such a thing
Is patently absurd.

For the stuffing, yams and other sides
Without the proper fowl
Would cause all the guests (including me!)
To holler “Foul!” and scowl.

Saturday, November 21, 2015

For My Age

I had a bone density test;
My skeletal health was assessed.
            I got the report;
            The numbers support
That my bone mass has slightly regressed.

Expected results for my age
Match the info I read on the page.
            They gave me a tip –
            I could fracture my hip
But most likely will not, by their gauge.

Though the mirror assures me I’m old,
It’s still shocking in print to behold
            That my bones are less dense,
            A direct consequence
Of the number of years I’ve been doled.

Friday, November 20, 2015


My son lives in the suburbs
And his house has an alarm,
A common feature which, when used,
Works better than a charm.

Yet break-ins sometimes happen
When these said alarms aren't set.
The owners may slack off a bit
Or out and out forget.

It's slightly sad, to me, to think
That some can sink so low
They'd rob somebody's house;
To the alarmless ones they go.

I'm sure that break-ins are among
The crimes that are recurrent
But in the city, doormen beat alarms
As a deterrent.

Thursday, November 19, 2015


What can be done when the kids take a nap?
Clean up just a few of the toys;
Then load up the dishes, provided you don't
Make a whole lot of wake 'em up noise.

Catch up on your reading (the paper or book)
And work on the crossword a bit.
Answer an email or talk on the phone
Or stare off into space as you sit.

Of course, if you're somewhat obsessive, like me,
You can rein in your thoughts as they roam.
Find your notebook and pencil and maybe, voila!
If you're lucky, you'll finish your poem!

Wednesday, November 18, 2015


You’d know her by her crazy socks
And ever-present smile.
Her patience and encouragement
Defined her teaching style.

“I’ll never be allowed in Quilters’ Heaven,”
She would jest,
But anyone who’d seen her work
Was bound to be impressed.

She always asked us if we’d seen
Some show on BBC –
A movie from the 40’s
Or some type of mystery.

We never had, but she had hope
That one of us would catch
The latest Sherlock Holmes portrayed,
Of course, by Cumberbatch.

My home is filled with projects
That, if honest, I’d report,
Never would have been completed
But for Julia’s support.

She was more than just a teacher
For our lives she did enrich
And I’ll bet she’s up there watching us
Make every single stitch.

*my quilting teacher, whom I very much miss