Monday, June 27, 2016

The Coppertone Girl

There once was a girl
In the Coppertone ad
And her dog pulled her bathing suit down;
So her pale little butt
Was exposed by the mutt
Though the rest of her body looked brown.

It was harmless and sweet
And offensive to none
So for years it made Coppertone's name;
But society's changed
And for people deranged
What was innocent's not quite the same.

Now the Coppertone girl,
While her doggie still tries
To perform the same stunt he once did,
Looks abashed, but for what?
For this time he had not
Been successful at making his bid.

Though his little teeth nip
At her suit, he cannot
Bare her tush for the whole world to see.
It's a sign of the times
That because of some crimes
What was cute once no longer can be.

Sunday, June 26, 2016

At the Music Fest

A shady spot, a comfy seat,
A quiet crowd, a breeze
And music played so sweetly
It could bring you to your knees.

An ice cream cone, a friendly buzz
Of fans and families strolling
And folks when asked to sing along
Not needing much cajoling.

The Milford Music Fest rolls ‘round
One weekend every year.
I always feel so fortunate
When I can make it here.

Saturday, June 25, 2016

The Humble Square

My favorite quilting shape’s a square;
It’s simple, quick to stitch and spare.
Such plainness shouldn’t be ignored,
For it can form a checkerboard.

This pattern’s friendly and it’s neat.
To quilt beginners, it’s a treat.
Each square attaches to the next;
No circle folds, which leave me vexed.

A rectangle’s not bad to sew;
It lacks the square’s attraction, though.
And triangles can be a pain;
I seek those perfect points in vain.

Next time you see a quilt, please note
The shapes and think of what I wrote -
For every quilter everywhere
Got started with a humble square.

Friday, June 24, 2016

Brexit

So Britain's made its exit
From the Union it was part of.
No one can predict what this
Will really be the start of.

Hits to the economy?
A government in flux?
Changes in the worth of pounds,
Of Euros and of bucks?

Political upheavals
As the EU muddles on?
Equilibrium upset
With Britain really up and gone?

It's way too complicated, though,
For me to understand.
I watch the news but just don't have
The facts at my command.

The commentators slyly
Have some questions up their sleeve.
My favorites are "Will Portugo?"
And, too,  "Will Italeave?"

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Offspring

On this date some years ago
A mother I became
And everything I thought I knew
Has never been the same.

To bring a life into the world’s
Miraculous and brave,
With claims upon your heart
That child will instantly engrave.

And watching as he navigates
The paths along his way
Will bring joy and much anxiety.
(No wonder hair turns gray!)

Yet as years progress, you’ll fill
With such an overwhelming pride
That the person he’s become
Was once the babe you held inside.

So a happy birthday, offspring,
Now with children of your own.
Hope you’ll feel the way that I do
Years from now when they are grown.

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

The Royal Guard

Saw a photo in The Times
The Royal Guard on view,
With tall black hats and perfect posture –
Nothing very new.

But on the ground nearby there lay
A member of the group
Who’d fainted ‘cause his furry hat
Most likely made him droop.

The heat was quite intense that day.
The fact that he was prone
Was not a big surprise, but he
Was passed out all alone.

Not one stiff soldier broke the ranks
To lend a helping hand,
For courtesy just doesn’t count
As much as a command.

A picture’s worth a thousand words,
As the expression goes.
If that were me, I’d not forgive
The guards in those neat rows.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Under Lock and Key

The eyeglass store’s brand new; it moved
From just across the street.
The stock is current, fresh and cool;
Displays are nice and neat.

But unlike some establishments,
Its style is from the past.
The frames are under lock and key,
Although the choice is vast.

So every time I saw one
I’d consider for myself,
A store employee with a key’d
Unlock the drawer or shelf.

He’d watch me as I’d try it on
And wait for my decision.
My interest waned beneath the weight
Of constant supervision.

In other shops the customer
Is left to his devices
To try on every single pair
That possibly entices.

I left the store with my old glasses
Perched upon my face.
My search will now continue
At a far more trusting place.