Superman

 Superman was nervous,

Thinking he might have to fight,

For he’d fallen for a service

With financial gain in sight.

He agreed to take a meeting,

Hoping all would be all right,

But his heart was loudly beating 

As he faced a Crypto-night.

A Breeze When It’s Hot

A breeze when it’s hot 

Doesn’t count for a lot

Though we can’t assign blame to the trees,

For their branches that sway

Try to cool off the day

But their efforts can’t really appease.

It looks lovely outside;

Still, the time comes to hide

In the house with a blasting A/C

When the temperatures rise 

And humidity tries

To sap all of the oomph out of me.

My Thanks

For all of those who make a point

To comment on my rhymes,

No matter if it’s only once

Or very many times,

 

I want to let you know how much

I treasure your support,

Since even though in other poems

I’ve managed to purport

 

That all my writing’s just for me

(And mainly, that is true),

It’s such a lovely boost to hear

From readers such as you.

 

Now most of you I’ve never met

And likely never will,

But please accept my thanks and know

The joy you do instill.

Reminder

My phone dinged a reminder,

The subject of this poem,

A simple message and it said:

“9:30 Flying home.”

 

See, I had planned to be away

Upon a river cruise.

My husband, though, had gotten sick

And so, for weeks, my views

 

Were of the buildings I can see

Within my neighborhood

Instead of little charming towns

As I had hoped I would.

 

We canceled all that we had booked –

The flights, the room, the tours

And waited ‘til at last, my husband

Ventured out of doors.

 

He’s better now, but never could have

Done the things we’d planned.

I’ve put it all behind me, but

My phone can’t understand.

The Crazy World of Sports

In the crazy world of sports,

A player’s age reflects,

On varied fields or surfaced courts,

What everyone expects.

 

For athletes in the 40’s range

Or those soon closing in,

Will likely see a subtle change

In what they need to win.

 

Perhaps their bodies just don’t move

As quickly as before

And even if they find their groove,

It’s tougher, now, to score.

 

In much of life, our wisdom grows

And elders, we are told,

Should be revered, but in the pros,

The young ones earn the gold.

My Zip Code

There’s an outbreak of a bad disease

Right in my neighborhood,

My zip code being one they’ve named

And that just isn’t good.

 

It’s spread when there’s bacteria

In cooling towers, where

They infiltrate and form a mist

That’s sent into the air.

 

If places are identified,

Which testing can decide,

A disinfecting protocol

Can peace of mind provide.

 

As numbers of the sick increase

(And treatment seems to work),

I glance at buildings, wondering

If that’s where germs may lurk.

Comparing Craziness

When you’re down in the dumps

And life’s giving you lumps,

It’s so nice to have lunch with a friend;

For occasional slumps,

Like a log’s many bumps,

Make it hard with a smile to pretend

 

All is dandy and fine.

Sometimes problems combine

With the natural ways that you cope

And your pal throws a line,

Which you take as a sign

That you’re not at the end of your rope.

 

So you sit and you eat,

Which itself is a treat,

And compare what’s been driving you nuts.

Though you do not compete,

Each admits to defeat

By not climbing up out of your ruts.

 

Still, a heaviness lifts,

One of friendship’s best gifts,

(Which can also take place on the phone).

Though the stuff that resists

Cheering up still exists,

You, at least, feel a lot less alone.