Trick or Treat

I went to buy Halloween candy;
The choices weren’t really the best.
I figured I might as well buy what I like,
‘Cause I would get stuck with the rest.

Last year I had no trick-or-treaters.
My Kit-Kats and Mounds bars sat waiting;
And each time I saw them I scarfed several down,
The calories accumulating.

I should have just bought treats I hated,
Then tossed them when nobody showed;
But childhood advice gave me warning
That I’d violate some kind of code.

So today when I stocked up on candy,
I chose all my favorites they sell;
And I promise I’ll wait to unwrap them
‘Til I’m sure no one’s ringing my bell!

Letter G

A letter G went missing
At a Scrabble tournament.
Someone must have taken it –
That much was evident.

It was the championship event
To crown the Scrabble king.
A search was organized and yet
Nobody knew a thing.

Competitors were asked to turn
Their pockets inside out.
An extra G could possibly
Give someone extra clout.

The G was never found
But referees had extra tiles.
I’m sure that when it was replaced
There must have been some smiles.

Still, it remains a mystery
Just where that G could be.
Perhaps it’s seeking refuge
As a Scrabble refu-gee!

October Snow

October should have falling leaves
Instead of pelting flakes.
It seems like Mother Nature
Has been making some mistakes.

Perhaps she’s getting senile
And dementia’s taken hold,
So despite the date, she’s sending us
Some snow and ice and cold.

The hay rides all have been postponed,
The pumpkins rimed with frost;
And people who planned outdoor galas
Must feel double-crossed.

There’s nothing we can really do
If Mother Nature slips.
With any weather she doles out,
We have to come to grips.

And so today, I stayed inside
And watched the snowflakes fly;
When crazy rules come from above,
We might as well comply.

Common

An ad for a movie caught my eye
And really, here’s the reason why:
A cartoon flick, its stars are voices;
One stood out, among the choices.

He’s a rapper, and his name
Is one which only he can claim.
It’s Common, which of course, it’s not;
Such irony I like a lot.

A name like that, it made me think,
Was chosen with a hidden wink.
I wonder if he has a son –
If so, I bet his name is Un.

The Bard

A movie called “Anonymous”
Claims Shakespeare was a fraud;
And Sony Pictures thinks it will
Make viewers all applaud.

Supposedly the Earl of Oxford,
Named Edward de Vere,
Was the author of each play
Where Shakespeare’s label does appear.

An English writer made this case
For reasons we can’t know.
His theory has attracted
Many famous people, though.

Such foolish speculation
I think we should disregard;
For only William Shakespeare
Should be rightly called “the Bard.”

I have not seen this movie
And I think I’ll pass it by.
I do not want to credit
What is probably a lie.

For near four hundred years we have
Admired Shakespeare’s writing.
To those who claim duplicity,
This reader isn’t biting.

Its

“It’s” with an apostrophe
Means it is – all the time!
Using it another way
Is quite a grammar crime.

Whenever I encounter writing
With a misused “it’s,”
My pressure passes by its boiling point
Before it quits.

“Should of,” “would of,” could of”
Are annoying, to be sure;
And for “there,” “their,” “they’re” confusion
No one seems to have a cure.

But the most frustrating writing error
Is, I do believe,
Using “it’s” instead of “its” –
It’s my number one pet peeve!

Subway Clown

A seat opened up on the subway
But just as I sat down,
I realized that my seatmate
Was an evil-looking clown.

It wasn’t just a metaphor –
He had a neon wig;
A stretchy black mask hid his face –
Now, what could be his gig?

It wasn’t noon; I doubt a party
Was where he was headed.
My New York paranoia
Sent me thoughts I kind of dreaded.

Perhaps he meant to do some harm –
He’d grab me if I stood;
My mind played the scenario
And it was not too good.

He never moved; his head was down
While all my pores were sweating.
I got myself worked up
And all for nothing, I was betting.

Yet when the train came to a stop,
I jumped out of my seat;
‘Cause sometimes where you sit
Might be a trick and not a treat.

Scary

I passed some brownstones on my walk
All set for Halloween,
And several had the scariest
Displays I’ve ever seen:

Evil-looking monsters,
Webs with spiders, huge and black;
Zombies looking like they’d love
To leap out and attack.

A ghostly bride with tattered gown,
A clown with moving eyes;
And ghouls and vampires waiting
For some souls to terrorize.

This wasn’t friendly child décor
But really scary stuff.
I think a smiling ghost and pumpkin
Might have been enough.

The obvious intention, though,
Was doubtlessly, to shock.
At night, I know that I would hate
To walk down such a block.

I miss the Halloween of old
And wish we could go back
To a time we’d have a little scare
And not a heart attack!

A Year Ago

A year ago today, I watched
As my son took a wife.
We celebrated as he stepped
Into his wedded life.

The party was quite wonderful –
We ate, we drank, we danced;
The bride and groom were toasted
For the fact that they romanced.

The stress involved in planning
Melted quietly away;
And everything was lovely,
From the food to the bouquet.

A year has passed and life goes on.
It’s hard to understand
That such a monumental night
Has slipped away, like sand.

The memories remain in place.
The bride and groom still smile,
Although twelve months have vanished
Since they headed down the aisle.

I know that in the future
We will share in their delight
As we reminisce on what began
A year ago tonight.

Orange

This is the season for orange –
The pumpkins, the candies, the leaves.
If Nature has chosen this palette,
It’s marvelous what she achieves.

I pepper my wardrobe in autumn
With bright orange sweaters and boots.
I feel so in sync with the foliage,
It’s like Nature and me in cahoots!

In summer, there’s yellow, in winter there’s white
And spring has eruptions of pink;
But nothing compares to the fiery flares
Of the orange in autumn, I think.

In the Card Store

I went into a card store
Just to buy a simple card,
But I never realized such a chore
Would turn out so damned hard!

There were many cards that played a tune
And some meant to be funny;
Yet none of them appealed to me
And all cost too much money!

Cards for Boss Day – what is that?
And lots for Halloween;
I’m sure there must be cards to honor
Each day in between.

I saw some cards congratulating
People for divorce,
And cards expressing sympathy –
For dogs and cats, of course!

There were lots of candles, calendars
And costumes by the crate;
Confetti, crowns, balloons and bows
To help you celebrate.

The only thing the store did lack –
It failed, in this regard –
Was a simple, touching, inexpensive
Plain old birthday card.

I spent close to an hour,
As necessity demanded,
But despite my best intentions
I departed empty-handed!

Hot Coffee

Coffee should be HOT, HOT, HOT!
Man, I hate when it is not.
Often, what I find’s the norm
Is coffee in the pot, served warm.

Drip pots don’t hold heat so well;
Trust me, I can always tell.
Thermoses are not that good
At keeping heat in, like they should.

Urns for crowds can be all right
If you indulge right at the light.
Percolators pass the test –
Electric ones stay hot the best.

Still, for brews that warm you up,
The only way to drink a cup
Is at the moment it is made –
For then, its joys are all displayed:

Aroma, depth and steaming heat –
A drink to make your day complete.
It should be hot as hot can be;
If not, then I’ll say – none for me!

Ready

Sometimes one is ready
And the other one’s not quite.
You have to find a middle ground
Or there could be a fight.

It might be just a small event –
All set to watch a show?
Or something more substantial,
Like vacation – when to go?

Even bigger fish to fry
Need unity, not “maybe” –
Like readiness to wed
Or when it’s time to have a baby.

When one is ready but the other’s
Otherwise engaged,
It’s likely that an argument
Is waiting to be waged.

The problem can be solved, of course,
By compromise and giving.
Negotiations, back and forth,
Define the crux of living.

Eventually there comes a time
When patience, calm and steady,
Enables those involved to realize
Both are finally ready.

Progressives

My glasses are progressives
So my vision can adjust;
Whether I am close or distant,
I see everything I must.

Yet a thought came to me suddenly –
How special it would be
If progressives had the power
To cross decades when we see.

Tilt your head into your childhood,
Focus straight into the now;
With a slight alignment left or right,
Last year would pop up – wow!

Just imagine all the prospects
If, by staring, we could get
To a vision of the future time
That hasn’t happened yet.

Now, I’d spring for such progressives –
They’d be magical, indeed;
But I guess they’d only work
If also, they would help us read!

The Roots

Though you are there and I am here
By choices we’ve elected,
You’re with me still, inside my head,
Because we are connected.

I feel like you’re right next to me
Amidst the park’s lush greenery.
I walk the route we always take,
Delighting in the scenery.

I’m not alone, though no one else
Is strolling by my side.
I picture every step you’d take
To match me, stride by stride.

I like to know at times we move
In opposite directions,
Our separate selves made stronger by
The roots of our connections.

An Empty Wall

I need an empty wall or two
To hang the things I find.
Sometimes, just for lack of space,
I leave those things behind:

Ceramics at an artists’ shop,
A crafted metal tree;
A painting in the softest colors
There could ever be.

Some photographs set in a frame,
A poster of the city;
There isn’t one more inch of room
And really, it’s a pity.

Somebody once suggested that
I take some objects down;
But that suggestion, sad to say,
Was countered with a frown.

I love each item on my walls
And so they shall remain;
But if I had an extra wall,
I’d add to my domain!

My PIN

I wanted to reserve a book
But I forgot my PIN.
The library reserving site
Just would not let me in.

I typed my bar code, typed my name,
Gave several PINS a try;
But every one I entered
Simply would not satisfy.

I finally gave in and called;
A human did reset it.
I gave some numbers on the phone
But really, I don’t get it.

If PINS are such a secret,
Why was I allowed to share
My new number with a stranger?
That seems weird beyond compare.

Still, he helped me to reserve my book,
So now I can begin
To remember my new number
Next time I am asked my PIN.

Long-Lost

You bump into a former friend
You haven’t seen in years,
And catch up on the latest news
Of families and careers.

But then you start to reminisce
And all the time gone by
Just melts away, despite the truth
A mirror won’t deny.

You laugh and conjure up the tales
Of escapades long past,
And wonder how it is your life
Has zipped away so fast.

‘Cause as you are remembering,
Your younger self emerges –
The carefree way you were before
Adulthood stopped those splurges.

But then reality returns
And soon you say goodbye.
You say you’ll get in touch, but likely
You won’t even try.

At least, for just a little while,
You magically did spend
Some time with both your younger self
And with your long-lost friend.

Catching the Worm

The early bird, to catch the worm,
Must not allow the slightest germ
Of laziness to intercede
Or else, it will be screwed, indeed.


Though dawdling is quite alluring,
Lateness will prevent procuring
Worms and other just rewards
That being first on scene affords.


We early birds just can't relate
To those who choose arriving late.
They may miss out and be distraught
Because by then, that worm is caught!

Open Book

“Your life is like an open book,
If people read your writing;”
So somebody announced to me,
With truth and nerve uniting.

“Your every-day experiences
Transfer to the page.
Your thoughts about the news, as well,
Aren’t very hard to gauge.

So someone wondering how you are –
Quite clueless, in a fog -
Would know much more than one would need
By checking out your blog.”

It’s true, of course, but though I post,
It isn’t guaranteed
That even those close to my heart
Will take the time to read.

I understand, yet wish they would,
Not for the latest news;
But as a writer, I sure love
To know I’m getting “views!”

Waiting for Delivery

I’m sitting here and getting bored,
Imprisoned in my home -
Just waiting for delivery;
I can’t afford to roam.

The date was set up days ago.
They told me not to worry;
Yet as the hours go ticking by,
I really wish they’d hurry.

I bought the item, paid in full,
But it’s a gorgeous day;
And stuck on my home turf right now
Is where I’ve gotta stay.

I’d love to head out for a ride,
Get ice cream, hit some stores;
Instead, I’m pacing back and forth
In front of my front doors.

I’ll never really understand
Whey we must sit and wait
To get just one delivery,
And why it’s always late!

Columbus Day

In 1492, we’re told,
Columbus sailed the seas.
He thought he’d get to India,
But had no guarantees.

We learned in school about his ships
And how from Spain he sailed.
He made it to our shores and so,
He only partly failed.

We’ve honored him for many years.
There’s no sign we’ll be stopping;
And so, to celebrate the day,
We’ll spend our free time shopping!

Weather Report

There’s snow in Colorado;
In Florida, it’s raining.
In New York City, summer’s waxing
When it should be waning.

Weather’s unpredictable
So when it’s good, enjoy it.
Today you may wear shorts and then
Tomorrow, corduroy it.

No matter what the skies provide,
We cheer or moan together.
Another day will dawn and then
There’ll be some brand-new weather.

The Periphery

Let me be
On the periphery
And not take center stage.

I guarantee
It’s best for me,
Especially as I age.

While some feel free,
Without a fee,
With audience to engage,

I disagree.
So let me flee
To where I belong, the page.

No Dice

Yankees couldn’t pull it off
Although, of course, they tried.
It may take time until our
Disappointment will subside.

The Tigers played a better game;
Their pitching reigned supreme.
Yet watching all those chances blown
Just made me want to scream.

If A-Rod only got a hit
One time, with bases loaded,
The fans, at home and in the stands,
Would likely have exploded.

We would have felt amazing joy
And pride and downright glee;
Unfortunately, this time ‘round
That end was not to be.

Oh well – next year we’ll try again.
Our loyalty runs deep;
But meantime, we can all catch up
On some much-needed sleep!

Tempted

Each of us gets tempted
By the things we shouldn’t do.
Judgment gets pre-empted
As excuses we construe.

Dieters give in and claim
Just one bite wouldn’t hurt.
People in relationships think
It’s okay to flirt.

Sometimes we are lured into
Temptations so enticing
That we convince ourselves
We’re worthy of both cake and icing.

Spending what we can’t afford
Or volunteering time;
Starting up a mountain that
We know we cannot climb.

It’s easy to get sucked into
Temptation’s sticky web.
So many foolishly expect
To have desire ebb.

But always things will tantalize
And no one is exempted;
It’s our decision to be made
Each time that we are tempted.

A Reading

I went to hear a writer read
And boy, was I surprised!
The attendance was quite sparse, despite
It being publicized.

I love her writing, read her books
And it was so exciting
To see her in the flesh and listen
As she read her writing.

She answered several questions then
Prepared to sign her latest.
I didn’t stay, although this book
Is probably her greatest.

‘Cause even though I am a fan,
The library is where
I find the books I curl up with
On sofa, bed or chair.

I feel a little twinge of guilt;
I cannot quite deny it.
The author’s reading of her book
Was just to make us buy it.

But still, I made it to the store
To show some fan support.
I did what I could do, and yet
I feel I came up short.

Driving in Jidda

A Saudi woman in a car
Was guilty – just for driving!
It didn’t matter much if she’d
Been leaving or arriving.

Her sentence was ten lashes,
I’m assuming with a whip;
The punishment was quite severe
For such a local trip.

The Saudi king quite recently
Said women now can vote
And run for public office,
Which should really rock the boat.

But in a car, behind the wheel,
A female’s not allowed.
The lashes are a crude attempt
To keep their women bowed.

I wish that women everywhere
Could just drop everything,
Get in their cars, accelerate,
And plow into that king!

Mammogram

That mammogram! That mammogram!
I do not like that mammogram!

Would you like it on a couch?
I think that I would still say ouch!
Would you like it with champagne?
I think that I would still complain.

I do not like that mammogram.
I’d rather eat green eggs and ham.


Would you like it with no squeeze?
I think I’d still be ill at ease.
Would you like it fully dressed?
That I think would be the best.

That mammogram! That mammogram!
I do not like that mammogram!
What, then, would you most prefer?
Maybe others would concur.

If I could have a cute masseuse
Who sounded just like Dr. Seuss,
Perhaps that yearly mammogram
Would not be such a cruel exam.

Then I would like it on a couch
And wouldn’t act like such a grouch;
And I would like it with champagne,
Ignoring that annoying pain.

I would enjoy my mammogram.
I’d be as happy as a clam;
But ‘til that time, I will protest
Each time that tech does squish my breast!

Up-To-Date

My TV isn't flat-screen,
Yet still I watch my shows;
And most of them are nothing great,
As everybody knows.

My oven's from the 50's.
I light it with a match;
Yet it's turned out some lovely cakes
I've made, and all from scratch.

I wash my dishes in the sink
And dry them in the drain.
Unless I have a crowd to feed,
I really don't complain.

It doesn't make you happier
If you are up-to-date,
Although the younger generation
Cannot quite relate.

But I'm content, if things still work,
To stick with what I know.
To be a part of "modern" life,
I've got a ways to go!

Rain

If we complain
About the rain,
There really isn't
Much to gain.


It may be driving
Us insane
And seem to be
A royal pain,


Yet somewhere deep
Within the brain,
We know it's really
Not a bane.


So let us feign
Some joy from rain.
Complaining leaves
A nasty stain.


If we contain
Our pure disdain,
Perhaps these showers
May just wane.