A Packing Fairy

I’m leaving on vacation soon,
My suitcase mostly packed,
But certain items I’m deciding
If I should extract.

That extra long-sleeved shirt?
And will I really wear my jeans?
I need a packing fairy
Who swoops in and intervenes.

She’d point her wand and I would have
Exactly what I need
And from the drama in my mind
I’d thankfully be freed.

But as it is, I’ll do the job
And while I’m gone, I bet
I’ll agonize ‘bout things I brought
And those I did forget.

Death of a Gorilla

I don’t know how a boy slipped down
And landed in a cage
Which housed a huge gorilla,
Prompting anger, grief and rage.

For when the ape then dragged the boy
The keepers at the zoo
Decided that a killing shot
Was what they had to do.

I’d hate to be the person
With that awful call to make,
But I understand the reason
With a human life at stake.

Yet, after all is said and done
I still can’t understand
Why there wasn’t anybody there
To hold that young boy’s hand.

A Cupcake to a Kid

To eat a cupcake like a kid
You have to do as Henry did:
With mouth wide open, bite the place
Where frosting waits to glaze your face.

Repeat ‘til frosting disappears
(Forget the smears on nose and ears)
Then tackle all the cake beneath
(The crumbs of which will coat your teeth).

Let mom and daddy clean the floor,
The chair and all the clothes you wore
While you’re enjoying every bite,
Your face aglow with pure delight.

The grownups all will find it cute
But here’s a truth that’s absolute –
Such manners are a toddler’s job;
We’d call a teen like that a slob!

Memorial Weekend Barbecue

The clouds roll in, the sky gets dark,
The trees sway to and fro
And thunder rumbles, getting set
For Nature's rainstorm show.

Of course the timing coincides
With readying the grill
But if I have to barbecue
While rain pours down, I will.

The burgers and the dogs deserve
A charcoal bed below
So I'll attempt with all my might
To see that it is so.

Three Day Weekend Travel

A three day weekend used to mean
That roads on Friday night
Would be so packed you'd barely move -
Vacationers in flight.

But somehow patterns shifted
And the exodus began
Maybe Wednesday night or Thursday - 
Leaving early was the plan.

So with fingers crossed, I'm praying
That's the way things still appear
For I'm traveling this evening
And I hope the roads are clear!

New York's Top Dogs

Max and Bella topped the list
Of New York doggie names.
Lola and Lucky, Rocky and Jack
Were other common claims.

Charlie, Buddy, Lucky, Teddy
All were top 10 males.
Toby, Oliver and Milo
All way top-tier tails.

Daisy, Coco, Princess, Molly,
Chloe, Sophie run
With the females on the list.
Poor Fidos – not a one!

Every state most likely has
Its own peculiar set
Of monikers that people chose
To name their precious pet.

It’s curious how names evolve
From what they used to be.
I wonder who decides which gain
In popularity.

On the Promenade

Tour boat, ferry, sailboat, skiff
Bounce along the briny;
Sunshine sparkles on the waves,
Reflections bright and shiny.

Blimp and copter in the sky
Meeting no resistance;
Bridge, majestic, guarding all –
A pillar in the distance.

Police boat passes, pulsing blue
And beeps at people waving;
Children, on a trip from school,
Reluctantly behaving.

Downtown on the promenade,
The river slowly flowing;
I soak up my surroundings,
Glad for time before my going.

The Road of Life

The road of life has potholes, cracks,
Misleading signs and ruts.
We must accept the things it lacks –
No ifs, no ands, no buts.

The ride is rarely smooth and yet
Our journey moves ahead
With detours making us forget
The route we’d planned instead.

We travel ‘til our exit looms,
A fate we can’t avoid
Despite the fact that one assumes
There’s much we have enjoyed.

Repair crews never fix this road
So everyone must hit
The bumps that make our lives implode
At least a little bit.

Visiting Sunnyside

Ichabod Crane sprang from the brain
Of someone most deserving
Of Sunnyside, his proud domain.
His name? Washington Irving.

He also wrote a tale of note
About one Rip Van Winkle
Who found a sleeping antidote
To shoo away each wrinkle.

His home, intact, you can, in fact,
Both tour and pay a visit.
The costumed guide will not distract
From landscape most exquisite.

With river view, we wandered through
The rooms that Irving favored
And sampled life the way he knew
When simple joys were savored.

A worthwhile trip and here’s a tip –
Before you go farewelling,
The gift shop’s one you shouldn’t skip –
Cool souvenirs they’re selling!

At the Concert

The concert hall was fully packed,
A sizzle in the air.
I’d waited oh, so many years
To finally make it there.

At last they dimmed the chandeliers
And, strutting out on stage,
Guitar in hand, was he whose voice
Has not succumbed to age.

He started strumming and the crowd
Went crazy with delight,
Enthusiasm climbing
To the most audacious height.

My son and wife were there with me
To make up for the fact
They’d never seen him either;
(Opportunities they’d lacked).

My grandson clapped excitedly
To songs he mostly knew.
Like most of Raffi’s audience,
He’s 8 months more than 2!

Young and Old

My aunt, who’s nearly 88
And grandson, not yet 3,
Enjoyed a lovely afternoon
With age an absentee.

She watched him playing basketball
And cheered his every shot,
Then helped him catch the balls she tossed,
Which he enjoyed a lot.

His sister, at a crawling state, 
Indulged in all the fun,
Despite the fact her walking days
Have not, as yet, begun.

Observing from the sidelines
I was happy in my heart
Seeing such a sweet connection
Though they’re years and years apart.

Who We Are

Who we are begins at birth,
Our DNA a start,
But every soul upon the earth
From others stands apart.

Our personalities are there
From when we take a breath,
Remaining with us everywhere
'Til we succumb to death.

The quiet, shy, rambunctious, rude,
The introvert, the prankster,
The one who has an attitude,
The serious, the gangster...

Show early glimpses to the world
Of who they are inside
And as the years become unfurled,
Such truths they cannot hide.

Though nurture has its own effect,
Experience as well,
Not coddling or, worse, neglect,
Can break that magic spell.

Genetics and the dash of luck,
Or lack of it, we've got
Create the traits with which we're stuck,
Both liking them or not.

Driving in Manhattan

On the highway, traffic crawls
With stops and starts and braking.
Seems that progress isn’t something
That the traffic’s making.

On my right, the river gleams
With tour boats smoothly gliding,
The passengers much more relaxed 
Than we on asphalt riding.

Manhattan is an island, but
It rarely can deliver
On any street a trip as fast
As those upon the river.

Passing the Mantle

When you’re in charge of something,
It’s prepared the way you like.
The past few years, I’ve hosted
A poetic open-mic.

It’s through a group of teachers
And we hold it once a year.
Attendees vary – just a few
Or thirty may appear.

I always planned a writing drill
To get folks in the mood.
It broke the ice and worked its charm
On even those subdued.

We then went ‘round the circle
Sharing what we had produced.
Supportive comments always helped
To give a welcome boost.

Today I’ll be attending
But I will not run the show.
I’m curious to witness
How the afternoon will go.

It may be an improvement
Or not worthy of acclaim
For the passing of the mantle means
It won’t be quite the same.

Roz Chast

To understand the humor
In the cartoons of Roz Chast,
Check out a new exhibit*
Of her work – it’s unsurpassed.

My favorite is an ABC book
Titled “Things I Hate”
Which features many items
To which I can sure relate.

Examples such as “Undertow”
And “Waterbugs” and “Heights”
Are illustrated in a way
That’s filled with pure delights.

I couldn’t help but smile as I
Perused each cartoon page
And noted that all comers
Did most equally engage.

How special to have talent
So specific and unique!
Go check her out and you’ll agree
I know of what I speak.

*at the Museum of the City of New York

Purple and Red

A kindergarten memory
I have is very strong
And no one can corroborate
Or prove that I am wrong.

We’re gluing shapes to paper
And two colors we could use.
I look at all the choices
When deciding which to choose.

I proudly pick the purple
And to go with it, the red.
My teacher, though, suggests
I switch to red and blue instead.

Her reasoning is simply that
My colors do not match.
As I remember it, she felt
She’d saved me with her catch.

Imagine if I’d had the guts
To stick with what I liked.
Perhaps when projects came my way
I might’ve been more psyched.

By nullifying what I chose
The teacher, I think, fails,
For all she did was knock the wind
Right out from ‘neath my sails.

An artist I will never be –
Those skills I don’t possess.
Yet red and purple still look good
Together, I profess.

Mercurochrome

When I was a kid, if I got a cut,
My mother would grab the glass vial
And slather a swath of no other stuff but
Mercurochrome; that was her style.

Inside of the bottle a thin tube of glass
Was for dipping and coating with goo.
Then you dabbed it on so that no germs would amass
And the medicine knew what to do.

Every household did stock it, like aspirin and Vicks
(VapoRub, used if we had a cold),
But the FDA sometimes gets wise and restricts
Certain products which stop being sold.

That’s the way things went down in Mercurochrome Land.
It’s been years since it’s legal to buy it;
Though its mercury content, we now understand,
Isn’t healthy, some still would deny it.

It’ surprising to me that what once was assumed
To be helpful can lose its cachet,
So perhaps with Purell use we all might be doomed
As our safeguards it withers away.

At the Pump

If your gas tank is empty,
Unless you're inept,
You can fill it yourself
In all places except...

Oregon and New Jersey
Where you're not allowed.
If you tried, you would certainly
Be disavowed.

It's a mystery why
Such a law's on the books.
Likely some politician's
In debt to some crooks.

So when I'm in New Jersey,
In gas lines I'm stuck.
Though the prices are better,
It's not worth the buck.

Super Nana

They’re both asleep for naptime
But bound to wake up soon
And so I can’t resist
This writing moment opportune.

The older one is stirring;
The little one as well
But as to which will wake up first –
It’s hard for me to tell.

I’m with them every Friday,
My husband by my side
But for today I’m on my own –
Not easy, I’ll confide.

Just call me Super Nana!
For things are in control.
My face displays the truth, though,
For such effort takes its toll.

Still, time with them is precious
And I’ll gladly pay the price
For a nana or a grandpa
Gets the joy from children twice!

The National Mammal

Though the eagle needn’t worry,
For its place is still secure,
A new symbol has been chosen
And expected to endure.

Now the huge and shaggy bison
Has been picked to represent
This great land of ours where thousands
Grazed and wandered, quite content.

Since the bison is a mammal
And the eagle is a bird,
Both may symbolize our nation –
All the feathered and the furred.

But who stands for all the reptiles
And the fish with shells or scales?
Maybe there should be anointed
Some symbolic newts or snails?

I have nothing ‘gainst the bison;
It’s a fine majestic beast
But I wonder who decided
That our icons be increased.

The Proper Way to Cough

When I was young, we learned the drill
On how to cough; I do it still
Until my brain gives me a nudge,
Reminding me that others judge.

For I was taught to cough in hand
So that’s where all the germs would land
Instead of floating in the air
To be breathed in by others there.

We never thought about the fact
That all those germs would stay intact
Contaminating all we touch
Like doorknobs, subway poles and such.

And back when we lived pre-Purell,
Bacteria we would expel
Would coat our palms, a big mistake
If someone gave his hand to shake.

Today, to keep us off the hook
Our coughs should go into the crook
That’s formed by having elbows bent;
The spread of germs this might prevent.

Just one thing isn’t really clear.
If to this tactic, folks adhere
Then why are colds still being caught?
So many sleeves be-germed for naught!

Fashion on Display

When fashions get their own displays
Arranged in a museum,
It’s guaranteed that I will be
One person who will see ‘em.

I study all the sketches and
The mannequins all dressed
In fancy outfits sure to leave
All comers quite impressed.

Today, at the Mizrahi show,
The staff did help contrive
To take the dresses, coats and gowns
And make them come alive.

For after gazing at the clothes
Most artfully on view,
There was a film where models
In those threads came strutting through.

As wonderful as garments look
When hanging there, inert,
It’s so much better when we see
The swaying of a skirt.

Beneath the Skin

Sometimes veins play hide and seek
When blood draws are required
And nurses who can nail one down
Deserve to be admired.

My daughter’s veins are tiny
Though the rest of her is not.
Unfortunately, doctors need
Her bloodwork quite a lot.

Today two experts, though quite nice,
Just couldn’t find a vein.
They poked and prodded, trying hard
To not cause any pain.

At last my daughter’d had enough;
Attempts came to a halt,
With lots of reassurances
That she was not at fault.

Our bodies on the outside
Don’t allow the slightest glance
Of what lurks beneath the skin
Which we discover just by chance.

Happy Mothers' Day

Happy Mothers’ Day to me
And every other mother!
Today I spent some time with both
My daughter and her brother.

And since my son and wife have kids
The day passed quickly by,
With Hadley laughing up a storm
And Henry, who’s my guy.

My kids and grandkids got me cards
And pictures in a frame;
My husband bought me tulips
I received with much acclaim.

This holiday was never one
That ranked high on my list,
But now with grandkids on the scene,
It’s one I can’t resist.

Being Tired

When being tired knows no bounds,
It's time to make those zeeing zounds.
Zzzzzzzzzzzz.....

Stain

My jacket has a little stain
So should I wear it? I'll refrain
Except on days I babysit;
My grandkids will not mind one bit.

In fact, I really do suspect
(But can't be sure - I never checked)
That where this blotch first took its bow
Was in the place I'll wear it now.

A garment's lifespan must depend
On how it's treated 'til the end,
So what one wears with babes along
Will never really last too long.

Leafy Greens

Despite the fact that children
Keep increasing as to size,
If Ted Cruz had been elected
Every school'd be serving fries.

For while blasting Ms. Obama,
With her push for “leafy greens,”
Ted announced, that as first lady, 
Heidi'd shake up those routines.

If obesity’s a problem
(And most experts say it is)
We should thank our lucky stars
That school lunch menus won’t be his.

The Commuter Van

My cold not quite over –
With sniffles and cough –
I had a commitment
I couldn’t blow off.

The thought of the subway,
Its rush-hour crush,
Was turning my insides,
Congested, to mush.

But then I remembered,
A few blocks away,
Commuter vans idled
Each morning, each day.

And so I inquired –
How much? Was there room?
I paid and was welcomed,
Or so I assume.

In 15 short minutes
I made it downtown,
Preventing my usual
Subway ride frown.

For just 7 bucks
I could sit and relax
With no getting-stuck-underground
Panic attacks.

I don’t commute daily
But next time I must,
I’ll splurge on the van –
Let my wallet adjust!

Lilacs

I always bought a big bouquet
Of lilacs every Mothers’ Day.
My mother loved their sweet perfume
Which wafted over every room.

There were no flowers other days
To spruce things up with bright displays,
Just once a year to celebrate
A date for those who procreate.

Today, the lilacs’ cloying scent
Reminds me of when I’d present
A bunch for which I’d proudly paid
On my own Mothers’ Day crusade.

I did it more for me than her;
Were she alive, she might concur
For giving them, I felt more pride
Than what, to her, they could provide.

Crawling!

She’s been able to maneuver
And to turn herself around,
Scooting backwards on the carpet
As a way of gaining ground.

Also, rocking back and forth
While on her knees she’s seemed to nail
But our efforts to encourage
Her to crawl all seemed to fail.

‘Til today! I saw the video
And there before my eyes,
Hadley crawled to reach some playthings,
Such a wonderful surprise!

Guess the easy days are over;
There’s a world she must explore
But mobility means babySITTING
Days are nevermore!

Lingo

In basketball, there is a hoop
Through which an orange ball
When arcing, in a graceful loop,
May very likely fall.

A candidate, in quite a gaffe,
Mistakenly said “ring”
Instead of “hoop;” on his behalf,
Attention it did bring.

But notoriety is not
Considered as a plus
And lack of sporting lingo’s what
Makes him not one of us!