When the Mighty Fall

At Newark Airport, Christie* tried
A quicker way to get inside,
Expecting they would let him slide;
Alas, though, entrance was denied.

The V.I.P. line he’d once used,
When cockiness from him just oozed,
Was blocked by police, but Christie mused
That he was just a bit confused.

For when the “mighty” tumble from
The lofty place from which they’ve come,
To our derision they succumb;
And sympathy? Not one small crumb.

*former governor of New Jersey

TCB Days

Some days are meant for TCB,
Those chores you’ve been evading,
That sea of obligations
Into which you must start wading.

You make a list and then decide
The first ones you should tackle
And every one you finish feels
Like severing a shackle.

Though some have online access
Others may require some travel,
But once you’re on a roll, don’t let
Your fortitude unravel.

The feeling of fulfillment
As your tasks are taken care of
Is as pleasant a sensation
As few others I’m aware of.

A Bad Day

Once in a while I wish I could dial
The day back to right where it started.
I’d then reconcile with things that did rile
And left me despondently-hearted.

It isn’t the norm but some days just swarm
With episodes rank and annoying
And in such a storm, it’s hard to transform
A dejection into something buoying.

Still, all things must pass and greener the grass
We will spot on our side of the fences.
We’ll relinquish the crass and begin, smooth as glass,
With a fresh start when morning commences.

Home Movies

The birthday party, a surprise,
Had lots of things to tantalize –
A lovely house, delicious food,
A friendly host to set the mood…

Some dialogue with friends and kin,
The birthday gal’s elated grin
When, from the car, she looked about
As all of us let out a shout.

My favorite part, though, was to see,
Transcribed to view on a TV,
Home movies of the honored guest,
The past revived at our behest.

Most partygoers knew her then
And lived those mem'ries once again
But we don’t go back quite as far
So watching really raised the bar:

An eighth grade trip, a P.J. bash,
A backyard pool, with hose and splash,
The senior prom (and she the queen!),
A high school graduation scene.

To see my friend so very young
Gave background to the praises sung
And piled so high upon her plate
By all who came to celebrate.

As pals and family reminisced,
I saw a bit of what I’d missed
But I was thrilled to recognize
My younger friend, a sweet surprise.

On Wind

The wind can make a sailboat glide
And keep a kite afloat,
Help homes to be electrified;
Give yards a blossom coat.

Yet wind can also uproot trees
And send their branches flying,
Cause boats to capsize on the seas;
Set fields of crops to dying.

From gentle breeze to raging gust,
A whisper or a squall,
Even from indoors, we must
Be held within its thrall.

Two Umbrellas

Two umbrellas hang and drip
Some puddles on the floor,
A brief reprieve, for in a bit,
We're heading out the door.

They look the same, like strawberries,
But differ in their size.
The smaller one is Hadley's*
And she loves it (no surprise).

For I remember my umbrella
When I was a kid.
Nothing made me feel grown-up
Like that umbrella did.

So in the pouring rain we'll walk,
Two berries held above,
Protected from the elements
By nylon and by love.

*my 2 1/2 year old granddaughter

Marching In

February bid adieu
And March marched in, like months should do.
It wasn’t lion-like today;
Tomorrow, though, will roar away.

Some shoots are poking through the ground
While leafless branches still surround
And robins haven’t yet appeared;
The sparrows, though, have persevered.

We can’t predict how March will roll.
It’s really out of our control
But likely, ‘fore it starts to scram,
We’ll get a little taste of lamb.