On Reserve

Someone recommends a book;
I put it on “Reserve.”
The list is often long enough
To actually unnerve.

Of course, I’m reading while I wait –
A novel from the shelves,
For some just seem to call my name
To advertise themselves.

So I am in the middle of
A story I’m enjoying,
When in my email there’s a message
Just a bit annoying.

The books I have been waiting for
Are ready for me now.
All 3 showed up together,
But I know not why or how.

Which means I have 2 weeks (no more!)
To get through all those pages,
A challenge I can’t meet
Even if every book engages.

Like many things I know, this is
A niggling little glitch,
Another fine example of
Why life is such a ….. stitch!

Jiggety Jog

Fight the jet lag; stay awake.
Mail to deal with; calls to make.
Clear the suitcase; clean the clothes.
Fridge needs filling, I suppose.

Hit the market, as you must. 
Trip is over – readjust!
Mind is in a time-zone fog.
Home again, home again – jiggety jog!

Time to Destination

My seat belt's fastened as I watch
The map upon the screen - 
There's Europe and the USA
With ocean in between.

Right now my plane is on the blue -
Atlantic down below
And I've five hours, give or take,
To get where I must go.

The ground speed's listed; I can choose
Kilometers or miles.
The altitude and outside temps
Are shown from pilots' dials.

But all I really care about
Is "time to destination,"
The minutes marking the official
End of my vacation.

Reality kicks in again
When touchdown's been completed
And with the routines of my life 
I'll once again be greeted.

A Perfect Hotel Room

Lots of light, a comfy bed,
Quiet when you're sleeping;
Curtains blocking out the world
When morning rays come creeping.

Reading lamps, two cozy chairs, 
Some drawers to do unpacking;
A fridge, tv and coffeemaker 
(Which some rooms are lacking).

A nice hot shower where the water's
Strong yet gently flowing;
A concierge to help you
Figure out just where you're going.

A great location so that you
Can walk to local places;
A staff whose smiles are welcoming
As breezes' warm embraces.

A hotel room like this will make
Your visit a delight 
And if you guess I'm staying at one,*
You'd, of course, be right!

*Hotel Am Steinplatz, Berlin

Outdoor Cafes

The little streets near our hotel
Are peppered with cafes
And every night we choose one
On these almost-summer days.

We stand out from the locals
But we're welcome, with a smile,
To sip a beer and have a meal
And people-watch in style.

A lovely way to settle down
From visiting the sights,
As hectic hops around the town
Dissolve to quiet nights.

How fortunate to be away
When weather's on our side,
For suppering outdoors is great;
It cannot be denied.

Waiting for the Bus

A group of schoolkids joined the line
While waiting for the bus.
It seemed to take forever but,
Of course, they made no fuss.

As kids will do, they horsed around
To make the time go by,
When one, a blonde with glasses,
Somehow turned and caught my eye.

I smiled, for he reminded me
Of someone close back home.
He spoke to me in German, then,
Inspiring this poem.

For when I answered, poorly,
That I didn't understand,
His face lit up and "English?"
He responded, close at hand.

"New York," I said, at which
Another student whipped around,
His mouth agape at me,
A foreign creature they had found.

The bus arrived; they scampered on
And so did I, at last,
Another mem'ry in the bank
Of travels I've amassed.

Berlin

Berlin's a place that contradicts -
It's vibrant, but it's haunting,
The paradigm of hipness, with
A history most daunting.

The damage done in World War II
Reduced it to a rubble 
And then the famous wall went up,
Which led to years of trouble.

You can't forget (and never should)
The Nazi reign of terror.
Memorials abound atoning
For that awful era.

Yet everything has been restored.
You won't see ancient buildings,
But modern takes of what was lost,
Replete with domes and gildings.

This is a city worth a trip,
With coolness overriding,
Defiant that to all the world
Its past will not be hiding.

Navigating

Use your map or use your app
In a foreign city.
Still confused? Some bemused
Insiders may take pity.

Find your way, once you pay,
To bus stop or train station.
Hop on board; hope it's toward
Your chosen destination.

If you're right, pure delight!
Your stress starts to unravel.
What you learn will, in return,
Add lightness to your travel.

On the Side Streets

Staying in a neighborhood 
Where locals live and shop
Gives a taste of life beyond
Where all the tourist buses stop.

Discovering a small cafe
And breakfasting outside 
Opens up a little window
To a place where folks reside.

Of course, the highlights beckon -
The museums and the parks,
The monuments and buildings
From which history still harks.

But there's something very special
When you start and end each day,
On your travels, like a native,
In an unassuming way.

Lists

My vacation prep consists
Of checking items off my lists.
Toiletries and extra socks?
One more pair of shoes, sans box.

Make-up? Check! A book to read?
More clothing than I really need.
An umbrella? Meds and snacks?
Passport? Chargers? (Can’t relax!)

Bills paid up and cards all sent?
Nothing left to thus lament.
Pencil and my writing pad?
The checking off is ironclad.

As the time to leave draws near,
One by one they disappear.
When I’m headed out the door,
My lists aren't needed anymore.

The Bouquet

The bride created her bouquet
With seeming just-picked flowers,
The pretty kind that benefitted
From a day of showers.

Her perfect simple long white gown
Fulfilled part of its mission –
To highlight those sweet blossoms
In accordance with tradition.

But this bouquet was different
Since a secret it concealed,
A tribute to her dad to whom
The thought would have appealed.

For wrapped around the clutch of stems, 
Right where her hands would touch,
Was a necktie of her father’s
Whom she surely missed so much.

She didn’t advertise the fact,
A private gesture; still,
Just as touching as I’ve ever seen
And think I ever will.

Two Weddings

One was sunny; one had rain.
One had beer and one champagne.
One had singing by a choir;
One had Dylan to inspire.

One had tender, choked-up vows;
The other, guests more used to bows.
One, a Windsor staid event;
The other had a porch and tent.

Both had salmon, garden peas,
Asparagus and meat and cheese.
For dessert, ‘twas no surprise
That one had tartlets, one had pies.

Both had music going on;
Only one had Elton John
But the other, I attest,
Played dancing songs that were the best.

Though the weddings can’t compare,
Love at both was in the air.
Gazing in each other’s eyes
Were sparks we all could recognize.

Two new couples said “I do”
And one of them was you-know-who.
The other people I do treasure
And their wedding was a pleasure.

Excluded

It hurts to be excluded
Even if you're feeling mixed
'Bout the venue that's reputed
To be one some people nixed.

For at least if you're included
You know someone seems to care
And it's not like you've intruded;
You're encouraged to be there.

Often motives are occluded
So conclusions may be reached,
But you're likely not deluded 
When a courtesy is breached.

Greek Dinner

Had some time to kill while in
A town we don't know well.
Found a place to eat - looked good,
As far as we could tell.

The booths were cozy, seats were filled
And portions (took a peek)
Looked generous and yummy;
The proprietor was Greek.

The salad was delicious
And the grape leaves were the best.
The soft warm bread most surely
Put will power to the test.

The spinach pie and baklava
Did help round out the meal,
A random unexpected find
And also, a great deal!

Amazon Prime

My shoulder bag is zippered;
The zipper up and broke.
I needed a replacement;
My inner genie spoke:

You're going on vacation.
You cannot have a bag
Without a working closure,
For that would be a drag.

Check Amazon and order.
You have a trial for Prime*
So you will have a new one
Before your leaving time.

I found a likely suspect;
It's cute but small as spit.
My wallet (like Costanza's**)
Won't let other items fit.

The obvious solution?
On Amazon today
I found a mini-wallet
Which will soon be on its way.

*guarantees 2-day delivery; I have a free trial.
**a character on "Seinfeld" with a ridiculously fat wallet

The Notorious RBG

Bigger than life, though petite in the flesh,
An outlet where coolness and intellect mesh,
A mind where ideas and decisions are fresh,
She’s as hip as a justice can be.

At 85 years, she’s still sharp as a tack,
With feistiness others before her did lack.
She opened the door and there’s no going back;
Even those on the right must agree.

With her trainer, her workouts have earned her acclaim
And her night owl habits put others to shame.
Like the rapper from Brooklyn, she merits the name –
The Notorious one – RBG!*

*Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg

Waiting for the Rain

The branches start a swaying dance
Like plastic hula dancers.
The sky turns charcoal gray and
Pretty soon we’ll have our answers.

For questioning if it will rain
When Nature’s giving notice
Is like thinking there’ll be wisdom from
The tweeting of the POTUS.*

Anticipation’s half the fun
As briefly clouds will straddle
The sunshine and the darkened sky
Before the raindrops rattle.

*President of the United States

Hindsight

Where we live and what we do
Are choices made without a clue
If we will thrive at home or work;
We cannot know what problems lurk.

Decisions made when we are young,
Some based on plans to which we’ve clung,
May work out just the way we’d hoped
Despite some pitfalls never scoped.

Yet other picks may not pan out
And leave us filled with dread or doubt.
Of those selections, most will curse them;
It takes courage to reverse them.

Age makes hindsight crystal clear
So regrets may thus appear,
But since magic we do lack,
There simply is no going back.

Mothers' Day Traffic

Add rain and roads and Mothers' Day
And multiply by stress.
Subtract the patience you have left
And marvel at the mess.

Then inch along and make a vow
That next year you will stay
At home and do a Face-Time call
To celebrate the day.

Pre-Replacements

I bought a new pillow
But you may behold,
In back of my closet,
Where I hid the old.

My chair pads were faded;
I purchased a set.
Did I ditch the first ones?
I haven't quite yet.

My glasses, old-fashioned,
Looked blah on my face.
My new ones sit next to
The old model's case.

Replacements look spiffy,
But part of the deal
Is chucking the old stuff
That's lost its appeal.

If I beat my spouse
To the Grim Reaper's door,
Tossing my pre-replacements
Will be his first chore.

Nut-Free

The signs are plain - No nuts allowed!
Though I am sure in every crowd 
Some nuts are hiding in disguise,
At times right there, before our eyes.

Of course, that's not the kind they mean,
For allergies have made the scene
So peanut butter won't be found
When any kids might be around.

A childhood staple has been banned
But what I do not understand
Is why, back then, we could not see
That peanuts were the enemy.

It seems today, there's so much fear
Of germs and gluten and it's clear
That as more items miss the cuts 
The state of things, to me, is nuts!

Hot Sauce

The restaurant was Vietnamese
And so, for its clients to please,
On each table there sat
Bottles filled with sauce that
Would make someone like me start to sneeze.

For some cultures like heat in their food
Thus for zestiness, they might include
Certain chilies or spice,
Sometimes sprinkled on twice,
So a torridness they will exude.

Though some patrons such heat will exalt
And use hot sauce, perhaps, by default,
I like flavor, not heat
Yet my meal’s not complete
‘Til it has a few shakes of the salt.

On the Streets of New York

More people trudge on every block
Than live in many towns,
Their faces blank or manifesting
Current ups or downs.

I check out what they’re wearing
And the way they stroll or strut.
Deciding which are tourists
Doesn’t take much thinking, but…

I wonder how it feels for someone
From a tiny place
Confronted with more humans than
They’ve ever had to face.

Are they excited by the crowds
They knew that they would find
Or aching for the peace and quiet
That they left behind?

My guess is that the frenzy
Of New York sets them aflame,
But they’re relieved when they return,
At last, from whence they came.

Sandbox

There used to be a sandbox
Where some plantings are in bloom.
The germaphobes today
Would never use it, I assume.

But years ago I plopped my son
With shovel, pail and truck
In that sand where he would dig
And I could read, with any luck.

The benches formed a semi-circle
So the moms would sit
And enjoy some peace and quiet,
Even if for just a bit.

Though the playground had a sandbox,
This one by the mayor’s manse
Had no slide or swing distractions –
Just the river’s smooth expanse.

I look fondly on those hours
When my child played in the sand,
Something mothers of today most likely
Wouldn’t understand.

One Letter

My name's Ilene; Ilene's my name.
Irene, though close, is not the same.
When people switch that "l" for "r"
I find that just a tad bizarre.

It's rarely those who know me well
Although my boss would never spell
My name correctly if he wrote it;
Even spoken, I would note it.

You may think it's no big deal,
But that isn't how I feel.
"Just a name!" I disagree
For it defines and pinpoints me!

Induction Ceremony*

Watch the rock and rollers
With their bellies and their wigs,
Playing songs performed at
Oh-so-many early gigs.

The keyboards and guitars still sound
Real good, though maybe slower
Yet their voices simply cannot reach
The high range or the lower.

Blown-up photos from the past,
Not meaning to, are mocking
Their current selves who do their best
To do their roll and rocking.

The audience, all old as well,
Belt out, with zeal and passion,
The lyrics they remember
From when tie-dye was in fashion.

The music bubbles in my blood;
I watch and I’m transported,
But find it sad attempts to bring
The past to life are thwarted.

*Rock and Roll Hall of Fame

Up to my Neck

I love to wear a turtleneck,
A boat neck or a cowl
But offer me a V-neck
And I guarantee a scowl.

A scoop’s a possibility
And I will sport a crew
Yet I cannot explain just why
A V-neck will not do.

A sweetheart neckline flatters
And a halter is ideal.
A square or off-the-shoulder,
If the mood hits, has appeal.

Whenever I go shopping,
I know what feels right for me,
And that is why I’ll rarely wear
A neckline with a V.

Potty Field

On a high school track there has been found
Some human feces on the ground
And more than once had Nature called;
A camera therefore was installed.

Was it a prank or would it show
A jogger who just had to go?
The fact that it was left to find 
Implied there was an axe to grind.

Today the perp at last was caught
And everybody was distraught.
It was no kid who had a grudge 
But the district head who they must judge.

His reasons haven't been revealed
For leaving poo out on that field,
But I would guess as of today
That he has flushed his job away.

Heat Wave

Flew home to a heat wave
Though it’s not supposed to last.
The temps down south in Florida
We’ve already surpassed.

I’m usually not sockless
And in shorts the third of May,
But that’s just how I traveled
To my New York home today.

This morning down near Tampa
It was sixty-five degrees
When we took an early walk to town
With quite a lovely breeze.

It’s a topsy-turvy world we’re in
Yet what I find most strange
Are the people who insist that there
Has been no climate change!

Completing the Circle

In Disney, with my favorite aunt,
My son some months past three,
She carried him right past the guards,
So he could get in free.

For children not yet three years old
Paid no admission charge.
"They'll never stop me!" yelled Sydelle 
And onward she did barge.

That was in 1984
And now that son is grown,
Vacationing in Disney World
With children of his own.

And so we made a special trip 
With this same aunt in tow
To spend the day together
Like we did so long ago.

The grandkids fill the spaces
So the circle is complete 
And being there to witness it
Was such a lovely treat.

My son may not remember
How his great-aunt cast her spell
But the Disney circle is a tale
I'll always love to tell.

My Disney Day

My stress was through the roof before
This day at last arrived.
So many problems could crop up,
Plus I was sleep-deprived.

The heat, the crowds, the lines, the waits,
The grandkids, 2 and 4-ish,
As well as my devoted aunt,
Who's 89 or more-ish.

Yet it indeed was magical -
"A Small World" ride and others,
Amazing since this trip, I'd never
Choose if I'd my druthers.

The rip-off dinner worth each cent 
With characters there hugging,
The pictures proof with smiles so wide
My heart-strings got a tugging.

To share this day with those I hold
Most dear cross generations
Was worth much more than I foresaw 
Despite my trepidations.