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.