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!

Reluctantly

A strange thing happens as I age,

Which cannot be controlled.

I tend to focus, everywhere,

On people who are old.

 

Today, a doctor’s waiting room,

A check-up for my eyes,

Was filled with those so elderly,

From seats they couldn’t rise.

 

As names were called, they shuffled out,

(Our wait time very wrong!)

But watching them, I wondered,

Is this group where I belong?

 

To get there, on the bus I sat

As people moved inside,

With canes and walkers, hoping

For a seat unoccupied.

 

And on TV, up on the stage,

On Oscar night, I saw

The older actors missing

All their sparkle, once a draw.

 

When I was young, I rarely noticed

Seniors within range,

Yet now, reluctantly, I see

My view’s begun to change.

Yet To Come

“The best is yet to come,” to me

Is more a wish than guarantee

For in the future, what will be

We cannot really know.

 

We tend to hope things will improve

For life’s in motion; as we move,

We try to get into a groove

That lets our feelings flow.

 

Yet who’s to say that on our quest

To seek what’s joyful, we’ll get stressed

And realize we have not progressed

Or taken time to grow?

 

In that case, we’ll look to the past

At happiness we thought would last

And see that all that we’ve amassed’s

As far as we can go.

 

At times, it seems quite evident

That “all the best to come” just went

And though it wasn’t our intent,

That best was long ago.

On Pi Day

Because it is Pi Day,

Let’s talk about pie.

The math type’s beyond me;

I won’t even try.

 

But thinking of key lime

Or lemon meringue

Just makes my mouth water –

That citrusy tang!

 

Or how about apple crumb?

Yes, a la mode!

Or strawberry rhubarb,

With tastes that explode.

 

My favorite is blueberry,

Raspberry, too.

I’m not fond of cherry,

Which might work for you.

 

Some people like custard

Or chocolate cream

Or pecan or pumpkin

And, while on this theme…

 

Of course, there is pizza

So scarf up a slice.

However you celebrate,

Pie will suffice.

Committed

I’m committed to writing a poem every day;

I’m committed to keeping in touch.

I’m committed to hearing the music I love,

But to buying a couch? Not so much.

I’m committed to reading my books and The Times;

I’m committed to crosswords and such.

I’m committed to exercise, walking outside

With a bottle of water to clutch.

I’m committed to seeing museums with art;

I’m committed to dining out Dutch.

There are many committed for reasons like these;

If I get to be one, keep in touch.

According to My Phone

According to my phone, the rain

Would start at 9 or 10.

My walk began at not quite 7;

Lots of time ‘til then.

 

Of course, at 7:45,

It started pouring hard.

Without my small umbrella,

It was tough to disregard.

 

The last half mile, I got soaked;

At least it wasn’t cold

And being close to home, I was

A little bit consoled.

 

I never learn my lesson,

Which is not to trust my phone

And, judging by my fellow drenchees,

I am not alone.

My Pearl Ring

For my 9^th grade graduation,

I received my first real ring.

My parents thought that it would be

The best gift they could bring.

 

It wasn’t very often that

Our presents were in gold.

We weren’t rolling in the bucks

And I had not cajoled.

 

A friend of mine had gotten one,

An opal, center-set,

With diamond chips surrounding it,

A style I can’t forget.

 

So when I saw my ring, which in

Its middle held a pearl

With a little sparkly flower,

I was not a happy girl.

 

To me, a pearl seemed older,

Meant for someone middle-aged.

I don’t remember if

My disappointment was assuaged.

 

I’m sure they knew my feelings

But it couldn’t be exchanged,

So I wore that ring, but how I felt

About it never changed.

 

It resides now in a box with

Other jewelry from my past

And as for rings I haven’t loved,

That pearl one was the last.