Watching the Parade

The Knicks parade was on TV

And that was close enough for me.

I cannot even blame my age;

I’ve hated crowds at any stage.

 

Yet for the celebrants, most young,

They loved it all, to be among

Their fellow fans, all there to cheer

Their favorite moment of the year.

 

To see their heroes and unite,

No politics, which might incite

Divisiveness, so very wrong

When fans all seem to get along.

 

The festive spirit will not last,

For from examples in the past,

We know it isn’t “if” but “when”

Hostilities will rise again.

Puzzling

Puzzles will appeal to me

When words are what you need

To solve them; then, most likely,

I’ve a good chance to succeed.

 

A tough crossword or acrostic

Sets a challenge I enjoy,

For it taps into the brain cells

That I often do employ.

 

Yet once numbers are involved,

I’m simply clueless and so lost

That it isn’t worth the failure

And frustration it has cost.

 

Give me Shuffalos and Spelling Bees;

I’ll take that letter path

But don’t try to steer me to the route

Which travels using math.

In Lane

Way back when, I learned to read

And I was super proud, indeed,

When, with my new-expanded brain,

I read the road sign, “Stay in lane.”

 

Of course, I didn’t get that sign.

I thought it should say, “Stay in line.”

My dad, the driver, set me straight,

An easy fix to navigate.

 

My reading’s helped me all these years,

But not so much when switching gears,

For in this world of tech galore,

I’m not as smart as once before.

 

There’s much I do not understand

And language not at my command,

So I am stymied when I try –

My reading skills do not apply.

 

I guess that long-ago advice

That I first read must now suffice,

For with computers, it is plain

That I have ventured past my lane.

Anchors

My husband vacuums; I write poems.

Both anchor us each day

And neither one is necessary;

That’s what most would say.

 

We all have our routines, though,

Things we really seem to need,

So we also daily exercise

And take the time to read.

 

That feeling of accomplishment

Is an important must

And it doesn’t matter what it’s from,

Including rhymes or dust.

The Knicks' Victory

I’m in a slight poetic fix,

For surely it’s expected

That I will write about the Knicks

Or else be disrespected.

 

See, for me, this team is local

So my loyalty is due,

Though no cheering, loud and vocal,

From my voice will come on through.

 

I’ll watch tennis games for hours

And some baseball here and there,

But it’s not within my powers,

Citing basketball, to care.

 

Still, to hear a drought has ended,

Fifty-three long years of thirst,

Revelry must be extended

As that pent-up joy’s dispersed.

 

New York City’s set and ready

For the ticker-tape parade

And the sky will rain confetti,

All poetic doubts to fade.

Query Theory

A query is a letter

And could be a starting step

To discover if an agent

Might become your writing rep.

 

It’s a process, I am learning,

Which takes hours of your time,

Often never making progress

Up the mountain you must climb.

 

The advice that I have gotten

Said, “Be patient and expect

Many, many more rejections

Than attempts that might connect.”

 

That makes sense, so I won’t wallow

In predictable defeat,

But my query theory lets me dream,

And fantasy is sweet.

The Jewelry We Wear

I don’t remove or change my rings;

All four I’ve worn for years,

Unlike my huge collection of 

What dangles from my ears.

My necklaces and bracelets 

I switch out and do with care,

Depending on the style of clothing

That I choose to wear.

Around my wrist’s a watch;

I own a few (one even winds!)

And when I’m sockless, on my ankle,

Chains of varied kinds.

My husband wears his wedding band

And that is the extent

Of jewelry he sports

(Though somehow watches came and went).

Displaying our adornments 

Is quite personal, it’s true,

But it’s also a reflection 

Of ourselves that others view.