To Celebrate a Birthday

To celebrate a birthday

Some want candles and a cake.

To others, a display like that

Would be a big mistake.

 

There are people who will travel

To a far-off special place

For a festive celebration

That a birthday can embrace.

 

Others want a quiet dinner

In a restaurant they know,

Maybe followed by an evening

At a concert or a show.

 

Many more would be quite happy

With an in-home favorite meal

And a T.V. show or movie,

Birthdays being no big deal.

 

We all choose our ways of marking

One year’s march around the sun,

For each birthday’s a reminder

A new older year’s begun.

A Happy Medium

Sometimes nothing’s going on

And other times you’re busy.

Which is better? Being bored

Or stuck inside a tizzy?

That depends on whom you ask,

For some prefer relaxing

To any type of plan which may

Be, in the slightest, taxing.

A happy medium would work,

Though life will rarely let us

Have just enough to do

So that exhaustion will not get us. 

Quilting on Zoom

I take classes in quilting on Zoom;

Quite a challenge, you’d likely assume,

But we all seem to know

How to basically sew,

Which allows us to grow and to bloom.

 

Before Covid, we met face to face

At a spacious spread-out downtown space.

Now we’re all on a screen

With a weekly routine,

Each ensconced in her very own place.

 

Our instructor, who’s really the best,

Runs the class from her home way out west.

Several others have moved

But technology’s proved

That our questions are all still addressed.

 

So we sit and we stitch and we share,

Holding projects so we can compare

What we’ve finished, with pride;

The computer will hide

My mistakes, for which I have a flair.

Bob

He used to race 100 miles

And tell us all about it.

We always saw him running,

So we had no cause to doubt it.

 

The races that I entered then

Were 6.2 in miles

And mostly run in Central Park;

We differed in our styles.

 

I still get out and walk each day,

My racing days behind me,

And early morning, by the river,

That is where you’ll find me.

 

Yet he sits mostly on a bench,

His walker at the ready,

The river feeling far away;

His gait is too unsteady.

 

I used to marvel at the thought

Of hundred mile races,

But seeing where we’re both at now,

I’d not be trading places.

Maps

We used to keep maps

In our home and the car

To navigate when

We were traveling far.

 

Most were AAA issued;

We got them for free

For New York or wherever

Our next trip would be.

 

When planning a journey,

We’d highlight the route

So, aside from construction,

There’d be no dispute.

 

We relied on our maps

Until GPS came,

Then a voice gave directions;

It wasn’t the same.

 

With WAZE, there are updates

Of traffic, we’re told,

So our routes can be switched

With no maps to unfold.

 

Our stash, which once helped us

Avoid getting lost

Has, except for some strays,

Been, quite candidly, tossed.

Sunbathers on the Grass

People sunbathe on the grass

So everyone needing to pass

Can get a good view,

Which they’re likely to do,

Of, because of the thongs, lots of ass.

 

Since this spot is a park, not a beach,

Such visions should be out of reach,

But those choosing to bare

Derrieres do not care

And would likely resent those who preach.

 

Yet I wonder what pleasure they find

Having strangers admire their behind.

Even if I were young,

I would not be among

Those to whom such displays are inclined.

Such a Treat

Our grandson had a party

To attend near where we live,

So a place to stay with Uber rides

Was what we had to give.

 

At 12 years old, Bar Mitzvahs beckon;

He’s a busy guy.

It’s hard to understand how fast

The years are zipping by.

 

Yet it was such a treat for us

To have him come to stay,

For even just the shortest time

With him can make our day.

 

To see the city through his eyes,

The place his dad was raised,

Is the part of nana-ing that leaves me

Happy and amazed.