1492

They don’t teach like they used to
Back when I was still in school.
So many facts I learned
Just aren’t taught now, as a rule.

Yet there is one true constant
And I’m sure you learned it, too:
In 1492
Columbus sailed the ocean blue.

Yes, that year is like a trigger
That gets pulled inside our brains;
Of all the dates from history,
That single one remains.

So poetry has done its job
And teachers throughout time
Have been grateful that Columbus
Had a year and feat that rhyme!

Apple Season

Pick a bag of apples
Or a bushel or a peck.
Drink some apple cider -
Have a gallon, what the heck!

Bake an apple pie and serve it,
Warm and a la mode.
Bite a jelly apple -
Feel its crunchy shell implode.

Make an apple cobbler
Or pan dowdy or a cake;
Sweets prepared with apples
Never taste like a mistake.

Sip some apple brandy
Or imbibe some apple jack;
They possess the flavor
Other liquors seem to lack.

Celebrate the season
Of this crispy, tangy fruit.
It's clear why Eve in Eden
Would accept no substitute!

Power Breakfast

Bigwigs like to breakfast
With compadres of their ilk.
They like imbibing power
With their coffee, tea or milk.

The usual location
Where they meet and break their bread
Plans to close for renovations,
So what will they do instead?

A restaurant’s been chosen
As replacement for a while;
Because it’s on Park Avenue,
It has the proper style.

A certain politician, though,
When asked about it, boasted,
“I’ll try it, but they’d better know
I like my whole-wheat toasted.”

With all the problems in the world
Just falling at their feet,
How strange to think the big shots
Care so much ‘bout where they eat.

Perhaps our negativity
Towards them would be more minor
If they would meet for breakfast
At the low-cost local diner!

The First Debate

Like gladiators, though in suits,
They marched onto the stage,
Their confidence or nervousness
Impossible to gauge.

The moderator welcomed them.
The crowd gave their applause;
And then we held our breaths, in hope
Of seeing someone’s flaws.

Their words lashed out, attacking,
Modern weapons they were wielding;
And both repeated errors –
To the truth they weren’t yielding.

We squirmed a bit at things they said
And silently entreated,
Encouraging our candidate
To not act so defeated.

The commentators waited
‘Til the battle reached its end
And then declared the winner,
Which supporters would defend.

At home, we turned the tube off
And, elated or dismayed,
We wondered if the undecided
Might have gotten swayed.

With two more competitions
Plus the VP’s set to meet,
It’s too soon to determine
Who will end up in defeat.

Into the Tiger's Den

The Bronx Zoo has a monorail
I’ve ridden many times.
It takes you into “Asia”
And the natives of its climes.

Passing elephants and rhinos
It has shuttled folks for years,
As they’ve watched amazing creatures,
Safely sitting on their fears.

But last week, just as the monorail
Approached the tiger’s den,
Someone leaped out past the fences,
The most foolish of all men.

A tiger from Siberia,
Four hundred pounds and fierce,
Was upon him in an instant
And those teeth had lots to pierce.

The keepers came and saved the man.
The tiger’s life was spared;
It merely did the job for which
Its nature was prepared.

The jumper wanted to be “one”
With that majestic beast.
I guess he didn’t realize
He’d be viewed as quite a feast.

Though animals amaze us
With their beauty and their grace,
More often I’m astounded
By the crazy human race!

Immerse Yourself

The local health club has a sign
Encouraging recruits:
“Immerse yourself” and what it means
Is exercise pursuits.

The concept is a clever one –
The words sound so enticing.
You delve into a hobby
And immersion is the icing.

But working out is not, for some,
The means for self-improving;
And other ways exist to get one’s
Motivation moving.

For me, the message that the gym
Is trying to disperse
Is one I’ll tweak a bit 'cause I'll
Immerse myself in verse!

Crash Pads

Apartment dwellers often wish
They had a bit more space,
Yet there exist some studios
Few humans could embrace.

I read about these dwellings,
Some 200 feet or less;
The occupants were smiling,
Proud of their New York address.

They didn’t have much clutter;
Every object had its place.
Most used them just for sleeping –
Not quite home, but more home base.

“The city is my living room,
So all that I possess
Fits neatly in my tiny space,”
One took time to express.

To each his own, I always say,
But there’d be not a trace
Of normalcy inside of me –
I’d be a basket case

If I were forced to live there
Or just visit once too often;
I’ll settle for such real estate
When I am in my coffin!