On Target

How come when you're in a store
The urge is strong to buy?
Even things you do not need
Temptation can't deny.

Let's take a store like Target,
With quite a varied range.
If you leave empty-handed,
I would find that very strange.

I stopped in for a doormat,
I'd seen one in a flyer,
And I assured my husband
That was all I would acquire.

But on my way, I passed the sheets,
Which looked so darn alluring,
I realized that my sheets at home
Were old and pretty boring.

And all the towels looked so bright,
In colors bold and cheery,
I had to buy some to replace
The ones at home, so dreary.

My husband called my cell phone, twice;
Annoyed, he said, "I'm waiting!"
But meanwhile he was killing time
By slowly circulating.

He'd found a pack of batteries,
A bargain, I conceded;
And by the time we left the store,
We'd bought more than we needed.

I'm sure most people do the same,
If only now and then;
But as for me, I cannot wait
To go there once again!

Wisdom

Sometimes getting older
Does indeed mean getting wise.
Things that used to bother me
No longer do – surprise!

On a getaway with girlfriends
I don’t have to join the crowd.
If I choose to skip the spa massage,
It’s cool – I am allowed.

If I opt to stay outside the pool,
Relax and soak some sun,
I don’t have to feel I’m missing out
On all the splashy fun.

Of course, it always was okay,
Except inside my head;
But now, with wisdom’s confidence,
I’m comfortable instead.

We had a lovely mini-trip
And did most things together;
But several times I slipped right through
The group-dynamic tether.

And it was fine and fun and free
And quite intoxicating;
It’s such a kick to learn
This power was inside me, waiting.

To Thrive

Some people thrive in the heat or cold;
Some people live for a thrill.
Others do poorly when off the grid;
Extremes make them feel rather ill.

Risk-takers flourish when scaling heights
Or floating on top of the air;
Cautious folks like to be on the ground,
Immune to a challenge or dare.

How you are programmed is not your fault;
Your DNA’s set in stone.
So if you like danger or play it safe,
Take comfort – you’re not alone.

For daredevils droop when the danger’s gone;
And risk makes the wary ones scatter.
You know in which grouping you do belong,
And I know I’m one of the latter.

Yet once in a while I cross the line;
And always, I live to regret it.
Accept who you are in your heart and head –
Your body won’t let you forget it.

Hot!

It’s way too hot to be outside;
I felt like I was roasting.
It’s too hot to do anything,
Except perhaps this posting.

This weather makes me want to be
Some place that’s nice and cool.
It’s not enough to be nearby
An ocean, lake, or pool.

I like to be where I can walk
Without profusely sweating.
Living where I live, of course,
I knew what I was getting.

But some days are ridiculous;
Today is one of those.
If I didn’t have A/C,
I’d perish, I suppose.

But since I do, I’ll stay inside,
Indebted to Con Ed;
Although when I receive my bill,
I’ll hate their guts instead.

At a Bridal Shower

Look! Some pots! Some pans! Some knives!
Gifts for up and coming wives.
Wooden spoons and silverware,
Nightgowns that are barely there.
Coffee pot and mixing bowls,
Pyrex picked for casseroles.
Towels, glasses, and a blender;
Stuff from big and little spender.
Oohs and aahs at serving trays;
Every gift elicits praise.

Being at a bridal shower
Makes one wish things had the power
To grant each bride a guarantee
That life will now be worry-free.
After all, with such provisions
Meals should not be tough decisions.
Yet here’s a bit of food for thought:
Happiness cannot be bought.
So still, despite each brand-new perk,
Marriage is a lot of work.

Here’s hoping that your new collection
Points you in the right direction.
Household stuff is just the start;
Nutrition lies within your heart.

Wrapping a Gift

I cannot wrap a present;
I do not have the knack.
Whatever skills it takes to do so
Are the ones I lack.

I purchase pretty paper.
I’ll even buy a bow;
But why it looks pathetic when I’m done
I just don’t know.

I hate to plan and measure.
I eyeball, cut and fold.
The finished product proves the point –
It’s something to behold.

Instead of smooth, it’s lumpy.
The corners do not match;
And sometimes I miscalculate
And try to hide a patch.

Other gifts get oohed and aahed,
The wrapping looks so great.
Recipients rip mine right off
And never hesitate.

But isn’t that what wrapping’s for,
To tear into with zest?
It shouldn’t really matter then
Whose wrapping looks the best.

Shiva

Paid a shiva* call today,
No one I know well;
Still, it was appreciated,
Far as I can tell.

Lots of friends dropped by to help
Alleviate her grief;
Company and food provide
A trickle of relief.

The widow seemed relaxed and calm
And really in control.
No matter what she felt inside,
She nailed her new-found role.

I tried to picture how she feels
When everyone gets going,
And she is left to mourn alone;
There is no way of knowing.

But while we’re there, she can pretend
That life is as it should be;
And we, the visitors, reflect
On death and how it could be.

*Jewish custom of receiving guests after a death

Lunching With a Lawyer

If you arrange to have a meal
With someone who’s a lawyer,
Be prepared to lose him
When he’s paged by his employer.

It’s no longer a surprise;
It’s just a fact of life.
The Blackberry is more important
Than the fork or knife.

I feel extremely lucky if
Our order has arrived;
At least the lawyer gets to see
Of what he’s been deprived.

Perhaps he’ll wolf down several bites
Before he has to scurry;
But since his boss has summoned him,
He really has to hurry.

I’m not insulted ‘cause I know
He’d really like to linger.
It was a celebration meal –
That really was the zinger.

But still, we got to spend some time
And have a birthday toast;
And really, in the scheme of things,
We’re luckier than most.

But should you plan an outing
For a meal with an attorney,
Don’t be disappointed if
It’s halted in mid-journey.

Sweat

It’s summer in the city,
So we can’t really fret
When humid days crop up and we
Are drenched in pools of sweat.

I walked today for twenty blocks
And all my clothes were soaked.
A person who was not as fit
Might certainly have croaked.

I hate when drips slide down your chest,
Your underwear is clinging;
And salty perspiration in your eyes
Will cause some stinging.

When you are sweaty, just one cure
Will change to sweet your sour:
And that’s luxuriating in
A soothing, cleansing shower.

And just in case that grimy feeling
Doesn’t disappear,
Get yourself some fresh, clean clothes
And grab a cold, crisp beer!

Jet Lag

When you’ve traveled afar
And you make your way home,
You are physically back
But your brain’s set on “roam.”

And you can’t quite adjust
Though you’ve reset your watch;
You’re exhausted and can’t
Kick things up – not a notch.

You feel foggy and act
Like you’re slogging through mud;
Seems like someone has sucked
All the life from your blood.

It’ll take a few days
‘Til your pep has returned;
Then you’ll be good as new –
This is one thing I’ve learned.

When fatigue has released you
From its greedy grip,
It’s time to start planning
Your next far-off trip.

Gaudi

If you’re looking for a lovely place,
The opposite of dowdy,
Then Barcelona is for you,
The former home of Gaudi.

Visit structures he designed,
Both whimsical and witty;
And marvel at the way his work
Defines this Spanish city.

I stood in awe inside his church,
Majestic and amazing;
And listened to the oohs and ahs
Of others who were gazing.

His park is like a fantasy
Of magic made alive.
The smiles appear on every face
The moment you arrive.

And then I went to see a house –
A grand one he designed;
And understood how genius
Makes folks think you’ve lost your mind.

Wandering the terrace
Cannot really be compared
To being any other place;
It’s hard to be prepared.

The inside rooms were drenched in sun
And decked in Deco splendor.
This Gaudi house was so unique
There could be no pretender.

I’ll think of Barcelona now
And picture Gaudi’s towers;
And when I’m sad I will recall
The joy his work empowers.

Caution!

Beware: don't get your pocket picked.
Leave passports in your room.
Welcome to our city, but
Prepare yourself for doom.

Stay out of this neighborhood,
Especially at night.
Walk in groups and be aware
Of danger left and right!

Thieves are lurking everywhere
And tourists are their prey;
If you don't protect yourself
They will destroy your day.

Of course I'm cautious; after all
I live in New York City;
But making me so paranoid
Is really just a pity.

La Lengua

You study a foreign language
For years and years in school,
But when you try to speak it,
You feel just like a fool.

So many words have flown the coop,
Escaped from in your brain,
And here you finally have a chance
To habla while in Spain.

You ask someone a question
And wait for his reply,
But your attempt is futile
Cause his words go racing by.

You smile and murmur gracias,
But you don't have a clue
To more than just a snippet
Of what has been said to you.

You think about the hours
You learned how to conjugate;
Yet just the present tense can cross
From memory's locked gate.

You sound so very juvenile
When you try to converse,
The patient looks of locals
Only make it that much worse.

The lesson to be learned is
If you learn a language, use it;
Or else before you've had the chance,
You probably will lose it!

Racing Through

After a day of visiting
A steep medieval city,
Time remained to see some art
That to miss would be a pity.

Feeling quite exhausted
We nonetheless proceeded;
An hour before closing
We had all the time we needed.

At least that's what we thought at first,
But with so much to see,
We started racing so we'd get
To every gallery.

Look! Monet! Degas! and Klee!
And even some Van Goghs!
Pissaros, Hopper, and Chagall,
And painters no one knows.

We marveled at the vast display,
The wealth of priceless art,
And knew we'd never finish
What we were so late to start.

We didn't get to see it all
But made a gallant try;
It's better to have had a taste
Than let the chance slip by.

Tomorrow we will leave Madrid,
But first we'll see the Prado;
Getting there real early
Will be my museum motto.

We plan to study leisurely
Each interesting painting;
And maybe when it's time to leave,
I won't feel like I'm fainting!

Walking

In a foreign city,
It's wonderful to walk.
Who needs sitting on a bus
And hearing tour guides squawk?

I love to wander with a map,
Meander down each street;
Discover hidden treasures,
So surprising and so sweet.

Today I ambled through Madrid,
Nine hours without sitting;
Though I was exhausted,
There was not a thought of quitting.

I recommend to travelers
To city-tour on foot,
And keep it up until the time
Your energy's kaput!

Helpless

So we're in Madrid, exhausted -
Flew at night and didn't sleep;
And we hit the ATM
To make the dollar-Euro leap.

But the ATM says, Sorry!
No tiene valid pin;
And when several tries yield nada
We know trouble we are in.

So we call the magic number
For a customer assist,
But despite their all-day guarantee
They're closed - and I am pissed!

Now I'm tired and I'm cranky
And I'm fading fast from thirst.
I'm afraid to drink tap water;
Need some Euros or I'll burst.

But we find a bank that's open;
Get some Euros for a twenty.
Though it will not buy us dinner,
For some water we've got plenty.

So we wait 'til 7 in New York
(It's afternoon in Spain)
And we reach a human at our bank -
Our problem we explain.

She can help, she says, it's easy -
I'll reset your pin real quick;
And with some confirming details
She says - That should do the trick!

Now I'm sitting here and waiting
And we'll see if this did work.
If my husband comes back empty,
I think I will go berserk.

It's just awful feeling helpless,
But most things can be corrected.
Life is filled with so much tsurris*
It should always be expected.

*trouble, grief

P.S. We got our Euros!

Weather

The weather can’t be perfect
For everyone’s event;
So rain on your parade is nothing
That you can prevent.

When planning trip or function,
You hope the gods are kind,
But often you’re stuck with a day
You didn’t have in mind.

They say it’s lucky if you wed
When rain is pouring down,
But most brides would decline,
‘Cause who wants raindrops on your gown?

And if you’re flying, you’d prefer
Clear skies to any storm;
And if the beach is in your plans,
You’d like if it was warm.

But sometimes weather takes a turn
And there may be no buffer,
So people who have planned events
On those days have to suffer.

There’s not a thing that you can do,
So suck it up – be strong;
And act as if you had it planned
And knew it all along.

The weather shouldn’t spoil your plans,
So don’t give in to whining.
Remember, every single cloud
Conceals a silver lining.

Chivalry

So, I’m dying of thirst
On a hot, muggy day,
I veer off near the track,
Knowing water’s that way…

I head to the fountain,
But I’m not alone;
Someone else approaches
That water-fount zone.

He’s dressed like a jogger.
He’s young and he’s fit.
I’m female and older;
He cares not a whit.

I get there before him,
A step or two quicker.
We pause and I wait for
A chivalrous flicker.

But no, for he bends down
And takes the first drink.
Ah, chivalry’s dead,
Is the first thing I think.

But then my annoyance
Kicks in, more than thirst,
‘Cause all that should matter
Is I got there first!

Some people are selfish
And really have nerve;
A kick in the shin
Is what that guy’d deserve!

In the Audience

The eager performers, so prepped and so primed,
Burst onto the stage with delight;
And we, in the audience, smile and applaud,
For we know what went into this night:

A year’s worth of practicing, every week,
To learn all the songs and routines;
The patient cajoling of teachers and staff,
So all get to shine in their scenes.

With programs in hand, we clap and we cheer.
We notice the flow, not the flaws;
And after each number, you sense the surprise
In the spirited, fiery applause.

The players are poised with their costumes and props;
They’ve mastered enough of their moves.
The crowd’s so supportive it all looks like gold;
The actors are all in their grooves.

My daughter is one of them. I can’t describe
How it feels to watch her on the stage.
All her struggles and battles and challenges gone –
An observer could never quite gauge.

But tonight they’ve been vanquished – she’s beaming, aglow;
She’s a star and I’m bursting with pride,
For when she starts to sing the whole world gets to hear
Every drop she has locked up inside.

What a magical night! I was happy to share
In the joy of each one of the cast;
And I’m grateful that memory gives me the chance
To relive an event unsurpassed.

Painted Toes

I do not paint my fingernails,
Too short-lived, I suppose;
But I’d feel strange without some color
Shining on my toes.

I polish them all year, although
By socks they’re often hidden.
If any folks objected, why,
They’d just be overridden.

I stick to several colors –
I’m not up for blue or yellow –
My toes enjoy attention,
But there is no need to bellow.

Now that sandal season’s here
It really is a treat
To glance and see the cheerful hues
Provided by my feet.

Please Swipe Again

Tell me this hasn’t happened to you:
You’re running for the train.
Your Metro Card is in your hand –
Alas! It’s all in vain.

‘Cause when you swipe that sucker in,
No matter where or when,
You’ll get that message, loud and clear –
It says, “Please swipe again.”

You know your card’s not empty;
Your credit’s unsurpassed.
So now you think – Aha! Perhaps
I swiped my card too fast.

You swipe again more slowly.
The message reappears.
Too slow this time? So try again.
You’re one who perseveres.

The folks behind you get annoyed,
But you’re not giving up.
You need this like you need,
As Nana said, a “loch in kup.”*

But finally, your swipe succeeds
And so you can stop griping.
You shake your head at all the shnooks
Who can’t seem to stop swiping.

*hole in the head (Yiddish)

Tag!

I cannot count how many times,
It’s hundreds, I’ve no doubt,
That looking at somebody’s back,
The tag is hanging out.

It often advertises size
And if the shirt is cotton;
When people slide into that top,
That tag is oft forgotten.

It’s tempting just to point it out
Or else to tuck it in,
But either way’s a losing game –
You really cannot win.

So I do nothing, but I try
To right this simple wrong
By making sure my tag’s inside,
The place it does belong.

Raccoons

On the running path by the reservoir,
I stopped dead in my tracks.
A huge raccoon was waddling by;
No way could I relax.

I know they live in Central Park,
Yet still, they could have rabies.
It turned out this one headed towards
Her two cute raccoon babies.

The young ones huddled by the fence,
Attracted by the water;
And she was merely checking on
Her little sons or daughter.

I watched her nuzzle next to them
And then she turned around
And left them there while she returned
To more familiar ground.

My exercise resumed again
At my accustomed pace,
But after seeing those raccoons,
A smile was on my face.

Reunion

What do you say when you meet with a friend
After decades of being apart?
Can you continue from where you left off?
How do you know where to start?

Your memory’s stuck with an image and thus,
Certain photos are frozen in time;
It’s jarring to realize how much we’ve all aged
When we picture ourselves in our prime.

Even if someone looks great, you can see
The give-away march-of-time changes:
The innocence lost, the hair that’s turned gray,
The subtle way flesh rearranges.

So you reminisce and return to that time
When life seemed so easy and sweet;
And you understand being there, just for a while,
Is a lovely and magical treat.

A Welcome Change

Sweltered in the sun today;
‘Twas hard to even move.
Being cool was not on tap;
You’d never find your groove.

Raindrops helped a little bit,
But not enough to count.
Humidity did reign and made
Discomfort paramount.

All morning and all afternoon,
Non-stop we all complained.
Despite the water we did drink,
Our cranky moods remained.

Until tonight – for suddenly
The air was fresh and breezy.
Stopping all that kvetching then
Was well-deserved and easy.

When I got home I quickly ran
And shut off the A/C.
The open windows let the coolness
Waft right over me.

The weather is a lot like life:
There’s suffering and pleasure.
When Mother Nature sends relief,
It’s something we must treasure.

Walken on Air

Saw Christopher Walken in a show;
He was just terrific.
You can see him on TV;
Really, he’s prolific.

The audience was there to cheer
And offer their support.
He didn’t disappoint at all,
I’m happy to report.

So many Broadway shows these days,
Import a famous star,
But often these performances
Are really quite bizarre.

But Walken, strange as he appears,
Was perfect in his role.
Whenever he was on the stage,
His virtues we’d extol.

The play will close tomorrow.
Producers want what’s fresh;
But I’m delighted that I saw
Chris Walken in the flesh.

Finding a Dress

My son’s getting married
And I’m feeling stress
For plenty of reasons,
One being: my dress!

It’s really important
To find something snazzy,
But I don’t like styles
Too razzamatazzy.

I want not one sequin,
One seed pearl or bead.
Simple and elegant
Is what I need.

My friend, who’s been through this
Whole process before,
Gave up her day off,
Dragging me store to store.

With patience and humor
She helped me decide
On a dress to reflect
What I feel like inside.

She zipped and she analyzed,
Bolstered, critiqued;
Each dress, with her fingers,
She altered and tweaked.

And finally, like a great group
A cappella,
I put on a dress and felt
Like Cinderella.

It fit like a glove
And was classy and charming;
And, shockingly, cost-wise,
It wasn’t alarming.

I’ll order it shortly
And, factors permitting,
I’ll soon get a call
To come in for a fitting.

My son’s getting married!
We’ll soon celebrate;
And in my new dress,
I believe I’ll look great!

Muggy

Though I’d hate to get mugged
By some low-life or druggie,
It cannot be much worse
Than when New York gets muggy.

The air is so thick
It’s like you’re suffocating;
And sweat pores, I swear,
Seem to be procreating.

You can’t drink enough
To alleviate thirst;
And then you just pray
That your bladder won’t burst.

Your clothing just clings
Like a car decal sticker,
And inside your shoes
Your wet feet feel much slicker.

You pop into stores
For a breath of A/C
And think – it’s just June –
So how can this be?

It seems clear to me
Global warming is real.
How else to explain
Just how droopy I feel?

We must keep in mind
That this weather won’t last,
But I sure hope that autumn
Will get here – real fast!

Mosquito Bites

You’re minding your business.
You’re out in the sun.
It’s muggy, although
Summer’s not yet begun.

You’re planting some flowers,
Some pinks, reds, and whites,
And don’t even notice
You’re covered in bites.

‘Cause all of the hours
That you have been working,
Mosquitoes were plotting,
Just buzzing and lurking.

And when you provided
A nice swath of skin,
The word got around
And ‘twas time to dive in.

Now you’re left with many
A reddening welt;
I wish each mosquito
Could know how it felt.

‘Cause each waking moment
Today was a bitch,
Since nothing could soothe me
The way I did itch.

I’m sure in a day or two
It will subside;
And scratching’s not helping –
Believe me, I’ve tried!

Found Out

Where’s the gift I got for you?
How’s it working out?
Via email or the phone
I’d lie, without a doubt.

“Of course, I really like it.
I use it all the time.”
Long ago I learned that
Small white lies are not a crime.

The thought’s what really matters,
So every gift received
Is special but not always
In the way it was perceived.

I know I’ve given several gifts
Recipients have hated;
That doesn’t mean their feelings for me
Have become negated.

I’ve tried to find that perfect thing
But don’t always succeed,
Especially when choosing something
They don’t really need.

So when my brother asked to see
The wine-pouring device
He’d sent to me, I brought it out –
A lie would not suffice.

I never even used it,
I hated to confess.
I knew that his annoyance
He was trying to repress.

But hey – these things do happen.
We sometimes miss the mark.
Guessing someone’s taste is like
A shot made in the dark.

We’ll rectify the problem
And soon all will be fine.
Let’s crack that sucker open
And we’ll pour a little wine!