Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Satisfaction Guaranteed

“The customer is always right”
Is what they used to say
Way back when problems got resolved
Much better than today.

Yet there are certain companies
That still believe it’s true
And they will work until
You’re satisfied with what they do.

To prove the point, I had today
An online service “chat”
And to that representative,
I’d like to tip my hat.

She tried a lot of different things
So I would be content.
Our little “chat” was worth the time
And money that was spent.

Though satisfaction lately’s
Oft in very short supply,
I’d recommend the service reps
Who work for Shutterfly.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Drained

I walked three miles this afternoon;
My energy was sapped.
As soon as I got home, I crashed
And hit the bed and napped.

Though not a napper normally
(Its virtues leave me cold),
Today I couldn’t help succumb,
A sign of getting old.

Where once I’d walk for endless blocks
With energy to spare,
I tap into that reservoir,
But nothing’s waiting there.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Last Stop*

A nine year-old girl and an Uzi,
When combined in a singular breath,
Is a set-up for certain disaster,
Which in this case, resulted in death.

At a shooting range in Arizona,
While her parents recorded the scene,
The instructor stood next to their daughter,
A scenario they called routine.

But the weapon was too much to handle
And the bullets flew out of control.
What began as the thrill of a lifetime
Took a somber and sorrowful toll.

For the girl killed her shooting instructor
And must live with that thought evermore,
But the guilt should reside with her parents,
Whose stupidity’s hard to ignore.

Yet the blame must be shared with the venue,
Putting guns in the hands of a child
And there simply is no explanation
That could help things to be reconciled.

*the name of the shooting range

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Leftover Pizza

Want some pizza? Get a pie
And freeze it when you finish.
Wrapped in foil and baggied,
All that taste will not diminish.

Then when hunger strikes, you're set;
Just snatch a slice and heat it.
In ten minutes, grab a beer
And sit right down to eat it.

In New York, the pizza's great
So do yourself a favor - 
Freeze it when it's fresh. You'll always
Have a meal to savor.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

First Birthday Party

I thank you, Mother Nature,
For you kept the rain at bay
So all the kids were in the yard
For Henry’s party day.

Though clouds looked ready to unload
And skies were steely gray,
The swing set, balls and horseshoe set
Kept everyone at play.

Balloons gave things a festive air
And pizza came our way,
So everyone was happy,
Grins and laughter on display.

The cake was smushed, the candle blown,
Some tears appeared, but hey –
The rain held off and all had fun
On Henry’s party day.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Clean

There are those who clean their homes
Like crazy, once a week
(But I am not included
In that group of whom I speak).

They dust and mop and scrub and wax
‘Til every surface gleams.
My house will never look like that,
Not even in my dreams…

Except when I have company.
Then I’ll pull all the stops,
Employing all the sponges, scrubbers,
Vacuum, rags and mops.

I marvel at the way things look –
So shiny, neat and clean
And swear that I will keep it up,
A part of the routine.

But then the company departs.
What happens? Can you guess?
Within a day, it’s back to normal –
Soon to be a mess!

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Inheritance

My mother didn’t cook too well
Although she fed us fine.
Her house was not immaculate,
Much messier than mine.

She didn’t knit, crochet or quilt
But she was great at sports;
She swam and bowled and tennised
Really well, by all reports.

And oh, could she dance up a storm!
She crossword-puzzled, too.
When things were good or bad for me,
Somehow, she always knew.

She passed down many of her traits
But no, I cannot dance
And barely swim but I can bowl,
Though rarely have the chance.

I do the crossword every day
But like her, hate to cook.
While she escaped in naps,
I disappear inside a book.

We all have inclinations
That our parents have bestowed,
Though babies make us wonder
What is waiting down the road.

We hope that they’ll inherit
Just those qualities we’d pick
But we have no way of knowing
What will fade and what will stick.