A Drizzly Mist

I went for my walk in a drizzly mist,

An umbrella not really required.

If I got to choose weather, I’d get this dismissed

Since it leaves me quite far from inspired.

For my glasses were speckled, which always annoys,

And my jacket, not waterproof, wettish.

This weather brings none of the usual joys,

My appearance more mussed, less coquettish.

I don’t need the sunshine to brighten my walk

And I know I won’t melt if it’s raining,

But a drizzly mist somehow gets me to balk 

And, with rhyme or without, start complaining.

An Irish Band

Went to see an Irish band 

For a late St. Patrick’s day

In a little local restaurant

Not very far away.

The fireplace was crackling,

The menu Irish-based,

The Guinness fresh and flowing,

All just perfect for my taste.

The 3 piece combo sang and played

Guitar and pipe and flute.

A banjo and a concertina

Joined the fun, to boot.

We rarely get to do this 

But as time makes it advance,

We should grab each opportunity 

While we still have the chance.

Missed Call

Years ago, if someone called 

And you were not around,

You’d never know about it 

‘Til another chance was found.

And then a new invention

Called the answering machine

Allowed a message to be left

For someone not on scene.

The mobile phone changed everything 

For data’s always saved -

The date and time of all the calls,

The dreaded ones or craved.

A few are labeled “Scam Alert”

But many sneak on through,

With numbers in your area,

Like someone that you knew.

Yet if a “Missed Call” notice shows

Without a message left,

Assume it was a bogus call 

And do not be bereft.

And sometimes, what’s recorded

Will not set your mind at ease,

For I’d rather get a missed call

Than a message in Chinese!

Eid al-Fitr

My classes were cancelled 

And school kids are home

Because of the holiday

Named in this poem.

No alternate parking,

In New York, at least,

So Muslims can gather

For prayer and feast.

When I was a teacher,

No calendar showed 

This holiday, so

No vacation was owed.

Our “melting pot” image

Is surely intact 

When days off are given

And how we react

Depends on our views -

Some support; others scoff.

I suspect those who like it, though,

Have the day off.

Parallelograms

I am spatially inept;

My brain just won’t work that way.

That is why I’ve always kept

Certain challenges at bay.

 

For my class’s Lone Star Quilt,

We have started now to sew,

Yet my spirits might soon wilt

As frustration starts to grow.

 

Parallelograms we’ve cut

Out of fabrics of our choosing.

They’ll be sewn together, but,

I find it’s so darn confusing

 

That some shapes face left or right,

Like a mirror image shown

And my brain puts up a fight,

Causing me to sweat and moan.

 

Still, I’ll keep up and attempt

To complete this pattern’s look,

Hoping that I’ll be exempt

From working strictly by the book.

A.I. Companions

Not only don’t I have one

But nobody else I know

Has an A.I. buddy, or, at least,

Will say that it is so.

 

I read a lengthy article

About these so-called “friends,”

Which scared me since it doesn’t seem

That these are simply trends.

 

Creators justify their use

To fill so many needs –

Companionship, approval,

Affirmation, all the seeds

 

Which we used to plant and nurture

With a living, breathing soul,

When actual relationships

Appeared to be the goal.

 

The future looms in ways to which

I can’t at all relate,

When real and artificial beings

Manage to conflate.

 

I’m glad that I won’t be around

When what we can expect

Is that everyone will need

Such a companion to connect.

At the St. Paddy's Parade

Of course there were bagpipes

And kilt-wearing men.

As always, they marched

Up Fifth Ave. once again.

 

The day, bright and sunny,

Was cold, plus the wind

Challenged anyone out there

Who wasn’t thick-skinned.

 

I felt for the students

Parading without

Warm jackets or gloves;

They were frozen, no doubt.

 

Yet the smiles were contagious

And so was the green,

For today we’re all Irish;

There’s no in-between.

 

Which is why, walking home,

I made one unplanned stop,

Since tonight needs some Guinness –

Not just a wee drop!