Central Park

We often take for granted

What’s familiar in our world,

Without the need to wave the flag

We rarely have unfurled.

 

Yet tourists sometimes help us see

How fortunate we are.

By looking through their eyes we know

How high we’ve set the bar.

 

I spent the day in Central Park,

New York’s most precious jewel,

Though many locals get there

Not too often, as a rule.

 

Our visitor from out of town,

Amazed at all the trees,

Made me recognize the beauty

Landscaped perfectly to please.

 

The shady walks, musicians

And the turtles in the pond,

Plus the people-watching chances

Took us to a place beyond

 

All the urban sights we pass each day,

Infusing them with magic.

Taking Central Park for granted

Is not very short of tragic.

Remote Possibilities

Before remotes, we changed the channels

Right on the TV.

We got up from the couch to learn

What there was there to see.

When things got modern, we could sit

And use the new remote 

To flip from show to show, deciding

Which would get our vote.

But now, we have remotes galore 

And I can never tell

Which one to use and so I fiddle

‘Round for quite a spell.

My husband knows the magic trick

To find just what I need.

As long as he’s around

I’ll watch my program, guaranteed.

But at my son’s house, bets are off.

It really gets my goat

That to watch the U.S. Open,

Chances really are remote.

 

If You Love Where You Live

If you love where you live

That’s a wonderful fact,

But you can’t expect others

To always react

 

To your choice of address

With a positive spin,

Especially if

It’s a city you’re in.

 

Oh, I’d never live there –

All the crowds and the noise!

The hustle and bustle

Which no one enjoys.

 

The subways and traffic,

The homeless, the rats;

The crime – have you noticed

The murder rate stats?

 

It’s useless explaining

Your opposite view –

The people to look at,

So much you can do.

 

The buildings, the plantings,

Museums and shows,

The shops and the restaurants

Everyone knows.

 

No matter how hard

You may try to convey

How you feel in the city,

There isn’t a way

 

To convince those who hate it

The reasons you’ve got.

It’s either inside you

Or else it is not.

Empty Seats

I’m watching the Open,

(To me, such a treat!)

Surprised to see every

Unoccupied seat.

The weather is iffy -

There’s been lots of rain.

Perhaps that is why

Empty seats still remain.

Of course, it’s a work day,

With kids back in school,

And sneaking away

Maybe isn’t so cool.

But I don’t regret

That I’m watching from home,

A comfortable place

To be writing this poem.

It’s nice to see sports

Where the action is made,

Though the travel and cost

Make TV a fair trade.

Rumbles of Thunder

There are rumbles of thunder,

Yet, outside, a bird

Is chirping; I wonder

If he has not heard.

For rain clouds have started

Ejecting some drops

At Nature’s imparted 

Commands; movement stops

In the trees, where each leaf

Hangs there quiet and still

For it is my belief

They’ve a job to fulfill,

Which is follow the lead 

Of what Nature decides.

To survive, they must heed

Their instinctual guides.

As the raindrops increase

There is no other sound 

Than the cloudburst’s release;

Not one bird sticks around.

Planting Evidence

To help nail drivers using a phone,

To which everyone seems to be prone, 

A cop in disguise

Used the trick of surprise 

To create quite a ticket-time zone.

To be honest, each ticketed schlub

Joined the “What the heck?” questioning club,

For the officer was,

In his role as the fuzz,

Dressed, alongside the road, as a shrub!

Where They’re Headed

Where do all the people go,

The ones who share the road?

For certainly not everyone

Is in vacation mode.

Are they visiting a relative 

Or dropping in on friends?

Maybe off to work or out to shop?

The traffic never ends.

I wish that I could stop each car

And take a little poll,

But certainly such action

Would exact a heavy toll.

For the last thing that is needed

Is to interrupt the flow,

So as far as where they’re headed,

Well, I guess I’ll never know.