Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Hamilton, the Play

All the buzz is justified;
If I’d said different, I’d’a lied.
A slice of history unfurled
Like nothing else that’s in the world.

Lin-Manuel Miranda wrote
The lyrics, book and every note
Of music, all in hip-hop time
With such creative, perfect rhyme.

For everyone who has the chance,
Go see it, for it will enhance
Your theater props, with bragging rights
(And more if you’ve seen “In the Heights”*).

*Lin-Manuel Miranda’s previous play

Tuesday, July 28, 2015


My mother wore a duster
(Or a housedress) ‘round the house,
Which was once the garb of women
(Even lacking kids or spouse).

It was likely made of cotton
In a shift-style meant for ease,
Much more comfortable for housework
Than a pair of dungarees.

I’m not sure if stores still sell them
But the reasoning was right,
For when I’m at home I’m wearing
Clothes the opposite of tight.

They may be quite old and baggy
But they’re just the togs for me
Since the most important rule of home
Is comfort is the key.

Monday, July 27, 2015


Laughter is a balm to soothe
Whatever makes you ache
And those who would reject that thought
Are making a mistake.

Just spend an afternoon or eve
With friends from long ago
And reminisce until the giggles
Start to overflow.

For when you’re caught up having fun
The bad stuff slinks away,
Afraid to tamper with the joy
On obvious display.

If only we could bottle up
Those laughs for future use,
Then all the sadness lurking ‘round
Perhaps we could reduce.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

The Spread of Queen Anne's Lace

A weed that’s known as Queen Anne’s Lace
Is here and there and everyplace –
Along the highway, in the fields,
Deaf to every sneeze it yields.

Tall and straggly, it’s beguiled
Flies and bugs where it grows wild,
Lured not by its scent outstanding
But its flat top, great for landing.

Humans, though, don’t like it much
For like dandelions and such,
Its profusion proves, indeed,
That it’s just a lowly weed.

Oft, I rush to weeds’ defense;
This time, though, I’m on the fence
For swaths of land might lose the race
Against the spread of Queen Anne’s lace.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

My Jangly Anklet

My jangly anklet's lined with bells
So you'll know when I'm near.
Its tinkly sound is one that I
Am happy when I hear.

It drives my husband crazy
And when I am in a crowd,
I slow my pace to keep the bells
From jingling too loud.

I do not wear it much 'cause feet-wise
Quiet is the norm
And I don't have the chutzpah*
To take neighborhoods by storm.

Yet when I'm in my comfort zone
Then one of life's true joys
Is jangling at every step
And grinning at the noise.


Friday, July 24, 2015

A Dose of Happy

I'm tired of hearing news that's bad.
It really drags me down.
My smile is morphing into
What's much closer to a frown.

I know the likelihood of this
Increases as we age.
To understand that life will end
One needn't be a sage.

Yet right now I could use a dose
Of happy in my cup,
Which I'm certain Henry* will provide
As soon as he wakes up...

*my 22 month old grandson, currently napping

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Hospital Visit

The outside world does not exist
When you’re ensconced inside.
The rules of weather, time and season
Cannot be applied.

The news is of no consequence;
For movies, it’s the same,
The focus resting on the walls
And what they seem to frame.

The steady beeps of monitors,
The padded nurses’ feet
Provide a soundtrack for the scene
To make it more complete.

To patients stretched out on the beds,
The visitors on chairs
Are welcome interruptions
To which nothing else compares.

The hours drag on with friends’ farewells;
The captives wait or sleep
While lulled into submission
With each rhythmic beep…beep…beep.