On Pi Day

Because it is Pi Day,

Let’s talk about pie.

The math type’s beyond me;

I won’t even try.

 

But thinking of key lime

Or lemon meringue

Just makes my mouth water –

That citrusy tang!

 

Or how about apple crumb?

Yes, a la mode!

Or strawberry rhubarb,

With tastes that explode.

 

My favorite is blueberry,

Raspberry, too.

I’m not fond of cherry,

Which might work for you.

 

Some people like custard

Or chocolate cream

Or pecan or pumpkin

And, while on this theme…

 

Of course, there is pizza

So scarf up a slice.

However you celebrate,

Pie will suffice.

Committed

I’m committed to writing a poem every day;

I’m committed to keeping in touch.

I’m committed to hearing the music I love,

But to buying a couch? Not so much.

I’m committed to reading my books and The Times;

I’m committed to crosswords and such.

I’m committed to exercise, walking outside

With a bottle of water to clutch.

I’m committed to seeing museums with art;

I’m committed to dining out Dutch.

There are many committed for reasons like these;

If I get to be one, keep in touch.

According to My Phone

According to my phone, the rain

Would start at 9 or 10.

My walk began at not quite 7;

Lots of time ‘til then.

 

Of course, at 7:45,

It started pouring hard.

Without my small umbrella,

It was tough to disregard.

 

The last half mile, I got soaked;

At least it wasn’t cold

And being close to home, I was

A little bit consoled.

 

I never learn my lesson,

Which is not to trust my phone

And, judging by my fellow drenchees,

I am not alone.

My Pearl Ring

For my 9^th grade graduation,

I received my first real ring.

My parents thought that it would be

The best gift they could bring.

 

It wasn’t very often that

Our presents were in gold.

We weren’t rolling in the bucks

And I had not cajoled.

 

A friend of mine had gotten one,

An opal, center-set,

With diamond chips surrounding it,

A style I can’t forget.

 

So when I saw my ring, which in

Its middle held a pearl

With a little sparkly flower,

I was not a happy girl.

 

To me, a pearl seemed older,

Meant for someone middle-aged.

I don’t remember if

My disappointment was assuaged.

 

I’m sure they knew my feelings

But it couldn’t be exchanged,

So I wore that ring, but how I felt

About it never changed.

 

It resides now in a box with

Other jewelry from my past

And as for rings I haven’t loved,

That pearl one was the last.

Scammers

For every lowlife scammer,

Preying on those unaware,

There should be a waiting slammer

With just other lowlifes there.

 

Stealing savings from the lonely

Or the elderly or sick

Is a crime that can be only

Done by those so cruel and slick

 

That they don’t deserve a pardon

From a life within a cell,

Since all sympathy will harden

When their victims start to tell.

 

In this techno world we live in,

Scams are easy to perform,

Yet no scammer gets forgiven,

Or at least that is the norm.

 

When I read or hear a story

Of a person who’s been scammed,

Well, to me, it’s mandatory

That their slammer door be slammed.

Back on My Bench

I am back on my bench

With the river in view.

People walk by in t-shirts;

The sky’s bright and blue.

There’s one small mound of snow

Which is coated in black.

It’s refusing to melt,

Fending off spring’s attack.

Flowers haven’t appeared

But the stage has been set.

By tomorrow, that snow

Will be gone, I would bet.

A Diner Booth

Sitting in a diner booth

Is cozy and inviting.

To me, such places are, in truth,

The tables most delighting.

 

When offered booth or table,

There’s no contest; I will choose

A booth which will enable

Me to chill out and enthuse.

 

At dinner, I like atmosphere

And candlelight and chairs,

A place to sip an ice-cold beer

And wait while food prepares.

 

Yet for breakfast or a lunchtime meal,

My preference tends to be

A diner with the main appeal

Of booths for friends and me.

 

My husband likes a table most

But will not raise his voice

When we end up in, you might have guessed,

A booth. (He has no choice!)