Rain Shoes

A fellow tenant asked me,
“Do you think that it will rain?”
She carried an umbrella, so
Her thoughts were very plain.

“I heard it might this afternoon,”
I answered in reply.
“I wore my rain shoes just in case,”
She said, explaining why.

A glance revealed some normal flats,
Not waterproof-appearing,
But maybe older ones to wear
When raindrops might be nearing.

I understood her right away
For I would never chance
A rain-soaked pair of favorite shoes
With warnings in advance.

Camp Visiting Day

We visited the camp to see
Our grandkids hard at play.
Of course, the temps were broiling
On this sunny summer day.

The camp had lots of water and
The trees gave lots of shade
And lots of cool activities
Were planned and thus displayed.

The kids were thrilled to see us
As were we to watch their fun
But, despite the shade and water,
We were fried when it was done.

The campers all looked happy,
Too absorbed to note the heat
While we grands were glad to make it
Back to our A/C retreat.

Retreat

When the weather’s as hot as a marshmallow roast
Or the orangey wires that turn bread into toast
Then the person who will be complaining the most
Is – you guessed it – uncomfortable me.

For the heat makes me sluggish and ughish and such
And when skin gets all sweaty and slimy to touch
I won’t venture beyond my own walls very much
Where I relish the humming A/C.

There are those who do well in the 90-plus heat
But I’ve learned, through the years, to acknowledge defeat.
When the mercury’s up, home becomes my retreat
And there’s no place that I’d rather be.

Riven

A small tornado passed on through
And split some neighbors’ trees in two.
The toppled pieces hit the ground
So branches scattered all around.

No harm was done to man or house
Thus it makes zero sense to grouse,
Though clean-up will be far from cheap
And losing trees could make one weep.

Still, Nature’s worthy of respect
For so much strength, yet I suspect
Her power will not be forgiven
By those whose trees were wrongly riven.

A Gentle Breeze

A gentle breeze can't help but please
When do-si-do-ing through the trees.
It moves the air (to who knows where)
With grace, panache, elan and flair.

When I can sit a little bit
And bask within the realm of it
I feel delight and that just might
Inspire me to start to write.

Handshake

A handshake's no longer in style
And fist bumps just lasted a while
But at a first meeting
There should be a greeting
Perhaps one that's more than a smile.

Yet some folks still offer a hand,
Though if they are taking a stand,
Their grasp should be strong
Like their palm does belong
And it didn't, by accident, land.

With a person whose handshake is limp,
You might think you're confronting a wimp 
So it's best not to shake
'Cause you might, by mistake,
Form impressions on which you might skimp.

Moon Landing

Fifty years ago, Neil Armstrong 
Walked upon on the moon,
An act unparalleled which caused
All 'round the world to swoon.

Yet memory's a funny thing,
'Cause in my brain, like glue,
More than that was John Glenn
Splashing down in 1962.

They called all classes down to watch,
On stage, on a TV;
To us, it was the most exciting 
Thing we'd ever see.  

It set the bar for future feats,
(But seven earth years sooner)
Yet that's the one I treasure
More than triumphs strictly lunar.

The Antidote

When you’re home after taking a trip
In a car or a plane or a ship
And your bags are unpacked
You may find yourself racked
With the doldrums, so here is a tip:

Do some research and start to explore
Places you haven’t been to before.
Get your calendar out
And, without any doubt,
Start to plan and your spirits will soar.

For the antidote to being bored
Is to have a goal worth working toward.
So if travel’s your thing
Let your fancies take wing;
Looking forward will be your reward.

After the Vacation

Vacations let you sneak away
And block out from your mind
The problems and the obligations
That you leave behind.

The paint job that is overdue,
The bills you need to pay;
The birthday gifts to buy
All freeze in place when you’re away.

The emails you must answer
And appointments you must keep
Create a pile vacation brooms
Beneath the rug will sweep.

It’s lovely to be burden-free
When in a different place,
But coming home, reality
Just smacks you in the face.

Broom

I passed a store that just sold brooms
On Granville Isle, B.C.
Two sisters weave them in Vancouver
For their company.

I marveled at the many styles
In varied shapes and sizes
That many folk no longer use
As home life modernizes.

I rarely use a broom myself
But, swept up by temptation,
I bought a mini version
As a kitchen decoration.

Red-eye

Whoever named the red-eye flight
(The one that flies your overnight)
Got everything exactly right –
For you’ll appear depleted.

In cramped confines you’ll try to sleep
But even if you’re counting sheep
Your snips of slumber won’t be deep;
Your brain will thus feel cheated.

Such deprivation takes a toll
On eyes (the windows of the soul)
So catching up will be your goal
Once travel’s been completed.

You make it home and need to crash;
Unpacking hopes begin to dash
For both your eyes, from lid to lash,
To dreamland have retreated.

A Day in Vancouver

To see a city, you must walk,
Each neighborhood inviting
And areas, like waterfronts,
Give reasons for delighting.

To stroll the streets, check out the stores 
And people watch, together
With sampling the local wares 
Works well in any weather.

But when the sun is shining and
It's not too hot or cold,
It's great to be a tourist 
With reality on hold.

We wore our soles out and for sure,
Tomorrow we will suffer 
But motivation in a place
Like this just makes us tougher.

After the Cruise

Say goodbye to all that food
And plugs for each promotion,
Though you'll miss the balcony
And gazing at the ocean.

Bid farewell to fawning staff
And pulsing entertainment,
Whirlpools that you never touched,
The spa for stress containment.

Wave adieu to high-priced shops,
The neon-bright casino,
People traipsing 'round in robes,
The endless pours of vino.

Soon enough, you'll be back home,
The empty fridge a'waiting.
Will you welcome normal life?
To me, there's no debating.

The Open Sea

We're traveling on the open sea;
It's rolling, gray and vast.
My husband's feeling the effects -
I hope it doesn't last.

The endlessness I do not like.
At least when I see land,
The world reverts to someplace
I am apt to understand.

Below us creatures swim around,
Oblivious, I'm sure,
To all of us who sail on by
Outside of their front door.

I'm sitting on the balcony 
And staring at the sea.
It's hours 'til we dock and that
Is way too long for me.

Hoonah (to the tune of "Camptown Races")

We're on an Alaska cruise - Hoonah Hoonah
Seeing many scenic views - all de Hoonah day
Gonna sail all night - gonna sail all day 
Spending money in the tourist shops - all de Hoonah day 

Skagway, Juneau, no debate - Hoonah, Hoonah
All seem similar 'til Icy Strait - where the Tlingit stay
Hoonah is the town - not of great renown
Grizzlies, whales and people coexist - that's the Hoonah way

Souvenirs seem much less tacky here - in Hoonah Hoonah
Authenticity won't disappear - all de Hoonah day
Though it's quite remote - it will get my vote 
As a place you'll be surprised to like - all de Hoonah day

White Pass Railroad

It took 2 years, 35,000 men
And 10 million dollars to build,
But the railroad in Skagway, both scenic and cool,
Still keeps passengers awestruck and thrilled.

It climbs to the summit in just 20 miles
Where it reaches to 3,000 feet
And for heart-stopping views on a narrow gauge track,
The experience cannot be beat.

You can stand between cars if you're daring and dressed
In some layers to keep you like toast,
But it's worth it, for that's where the vistas impress -
And the mem'ry will stay with you most.

In Juneau

In Juneau, it's thrilling -
The air's always filling
With seaplanes, propellers a'whirl.
They glide on the water 
And land where they oughta,
As smooth as a necklace-grade pearl.

The cruise ships are looming
But business is booming
In stores selling t-shirts and gold.
The tourists are buying,
In their way complying -
More crowds equal more items sold.

The world's surely changing
And life's rearranging
In towns, even those quite remote,
For travel has let us
And ships and planes get us
To any location of note.

Ice Krispies

We approached the Hubbard Glacier,
More than seventy miles long,
And we watched it calve and listened
To its snap-pop-crackle song.

As chunks of ice broke free and fell
(That's calving) we could hear
The glacier pop and crackle
Very loud and very clear.

Occasionally, underwater 
Pieces broke off, too
And they popped up to the surface 
In a burst of white and blue.

They're fondly called "ice krispies,"
Like the cereal whose goal 
Is to crackle, snap and pop
When milk is added to the bowl.

It's super cool (no pun intended)
Watching Nature's feats
So I'd rather watch ice krispies
Than consume Rice Krispie Treats!

Photo Op Stop

We made a stop
For a photo op
By a lovely glacier lake.

Our tour group posed
And we supposed
A nem'ry was at stake.

The sun appeared
And we all cheered.
(Our smiles we didn't fake.)

The gorgeous view,
The glacier blue -
A picture meant to take.

We do not know
(One week to go)
If friendships we will make...

But in my book
Some day I'll look,
Remembering that lake.

A Day in Denali

The phone app said "unhealthy"
To describe Denali's air.
The sky was gray and smoky
All the hours we were there.

So we were disappointed;
Thought the day would be a bust
'Til somebody hollered "Moose!"
Our brakes kicked up a heap of dust.

A mother moose and baby
Ambled by in camera range.
Then an antlered caribou strolled close - 
Our luck began to change.

More caribou were spotted
In the distance, in a herd,
Then a sharp-eyed passenger yelled out
That much-awaited word:

"Bear!" We all looked over
And a grizzly came in view.
He lumbered in the bushes 
Seeking berries where they grew.

Our fortune held - the driver spied
A most impressive lynx,
Who crossed the road both back and forth.
(Just showing off, methinks.)

A final sighting- quite a brood
Of willow ptarmigan
(They're the state bird of Alaska)
Got the cameras out again.

We saw no sheep or eagles
And the sky was far from blue.
What a treat, though, watching wildlife!
(And they never even knew...)

River-Fed

At 8 p.m. the sun's still high;
The burbling creek is rushing by.
I sit out on my little deck
And watch a songbird hop and peck.

The tall thin evergreens stand guard,
Protecting my just-one-night yard
In case this peaceful reverie
Is spoiled by something I can't see.

How far superior this view
From mine back on York Avenue,
But that's what traveling is for -
To see what lies beyond your door.

Reluctantly, I close the shades
Before the sunlight even fades.
Exhaustion draws me off to bed -
My dreams await me, river-fed.

In Alaska

In Alaska, running loose
Are grizzlies, caribou and moose.
Eagles soar and whales cavort
And salmon fishing is a sport.

Glaciers calve and mountains rise,
Scenery to mesmerize.
Sadly, now, for tourist folk
The air is filled with thick gray smoke.

I am starting on a tour;
Don't know what will be in store,
But I'm hoping skies will clear
And some wildlife will appear.

Nature - lift that smoky noose.
I'd really love to see a moose!

People Watching

An airport is the perfect place
To look at people; every face
Is worth a glance and then, as well,
Their clothes and shoes, to try to tell
Where they are from, since likely they
Don't realize they are in display.

Their voices may provide a clue
But I prefer a silent view,
Imagining the varied lives
Of friends and loners, husbands, wives.
It may seem impolite to gawk
But that's expected in New Yawk!

Daily Dose

If an apple a day
Keeps the doctor away,
Just think what a poem can do!
If can open your eyes
To a hidden surprise
Or remind you of something you knew.

Why, a poem can delight
Or assure you you’re right
When it jibes with what you might believe
Or tap into your youth
With a long-forgot truth
That you never thought you could retrieve.

Though it may lack the crunch
Of an apple you munch
Still, a poem may be good for your head
‘Cause I really do think
If that doctor’s a shrink,
He’d advise poems (not apples) instead!

To Check or Not to Check

I do not like to check my bag
When flying on vacation.
A carry-on ensures I’ll have it
At my destination.

On routes that take me overseas
There have been times I’ve checked it
But never once have I been charged
So now I don’t expect it.

However, an upcoming trip
Includes a flight connection
With several hours in between,
So after some reflection…

I came to the conclusion that
A heavy bag’s annoying
To lift on board and off again,
My muscles near-destroying.

Unfortunately, Delta charges.
(Why’d the tour group choose it?)
I’ll bite the bullet but I hope
At least they do not lose it.

Chirp Chirp Chirp

In the middle of the night
In the middle of a sleep
I was woken up
By a chirping beep.

Each assertive peep
Grated on my brain.
If it kept it up
I would go insane.

We knew what it was –
Meant to stave off harm
‘Twas the battery
From the smoke alarm.

When the 9 volt dies
It announces such
With annoying chirps
No one likes too much.

So my spouse got up,
Made the beeping cease.
If a fire broke out,
Least we’d die in peace.

Old Flag

The flag that Betsy Ross did sew
So very many years ago
Had 13 stars for 13 states,
A flag that someone famous hates.

It represents a time, he said,
When hatred reared its ugly head,
For slavery was underway
Within the nascent U.S.A.

When Nike put it on a shoe,
Believing that was cool to do,
Objections stopped them in their tracks
And they caved in to tweet attacks.

The sneaker won't be up for sale
For Nike thought it wise to bail
As history keeps marching toward
A place where truth can be ignored.

The irony of Nike's loss
Of course resides with Betsy Ross 
For no one's proven for a fact 
That Betsy sewed the flag they sacked.

Hot Dog!

On the 4^th of July, there are fireworks shows
And barbecues, picnics and beer,
But there’s a tradition not everyone knows
For which only a few volunteer.

It’s a contest to see who can gobble the most
Hot dogs, eaten together with buns
And the winner, with trophy, gets mostly to boast
He can do what the average guy shuns.

The champ, Joey Chestnut, secured a new win,
His 12^th victory, pleasing his fans.
With his mouth opened wide, he did shovel them in,
Though his numbers fell short of his plans.

In just 10 minutes’ time, there were 71
That were chewed and made way down his throat,
Though last year it was 74 (each with bun);
Still, his effort got everyone’s vote.

As a watcher from home, I admit that, to me,
The whole contest is utterly gross
And I surely expected that on the TV
Some contestant would be comatose.

Body Count

A man in an HOV lane
Was driving in desert terrain.
A trooper passed by
And he asked the man why
When the HOV sign was so plain.

For restrictions require that two
Must be in the car subject to view
But the driver just said
Of his passenger, dead,
“I assumed that he counted. Who knew?”

See, the man drove an occupied hearse
Yet the rules, listing chapter and verse,
Don’t say occupants must
Not have bitten the dust,
Though a corpse at the wheel would be worse!

Snail Mail Registration

The bulletin for courses
Shows up twice a year online
With a registration coupon.
(I just finished printing mine.)

These are classes meant for teachers
(Just retired ones attend)
Which provide the opportunity
To learn or make a friend.

Certain listings each semester
Are most highly in demand
So not every registration
Will pan out as people planned.

Dilly-dallying’s a no-no
For the more relaxed who wait
To submit their course selection
May discover they’re too late.

Which is why I choose my classes,
Fill the form and write the check,
Stamp the envelope and hustle
To the post office like heck!

Getting Older

Every bone and muscle
In my body seems to hurt.
Is this my future – staying home,
Lethargic and inert?

I do my stretches but I’ve never
Been the limber sort,
Yet I still walk 3 miles each day,
I’m happy to report.

Is age the culprit or perhaps
A reason so much worse?
If it’s the former, we can’t make
The years go in reverse.

Yet other possibilities
Loom darkly in my mind,
Contributing some wrinkles
To a face already lined.

I must admit that getting old’s
Annoying as can be
And what is most surprising is
It’s happening to me!