Splinter

I’m not a cook; my housework stinks.
My writing looks like scrawl;
But if you get a splinter,
I’m the one that you should call.

I have a knack for digging out
Those slivers ‘neath the skin.
With sewing needle sterilized,
I’m ready to begin.

Today the splinter wedged into
The side of my right thumb.
Since I’m a righty, this one was
As tricky as they come.

Yet perseverance ruled the day;
Thought I’d begun to doubt,
A few maneuvers and at last,
I yanked the darn thing out.

My talents aren’t many
(Well, beyond the rhyming scene)
But if I deserve a title,
It would be the Splinter Queen.

Oscar Night Dinner

We stood outside and read the sign:
Two pizzas plus for twenty-nine.
The plus was for a bottle, red,
To sip with food which we’d be fed.

Delicious meal and what a deal!
Can such a bargain be so real?
The answer that we got was yes!
More food, more wine but money – less!

We tossed in a dessert as well.
A tiramisu – what the hell!
So now I’m filled up with a buzz,
The greatest deal that ever was!

There’s just one tiny little glitch –
Tonight there is the Oscars pitch.
With wine and pizza in my gut
I hope my eyes don’t end up shut!

A Sneaky Beast

Anxiety’s a sneaky beast.
On weaknesses, he likes to feast
And seemingly, the worse you feel,
The tastier will be his meal.

A person’s fears, though they may be
Not founded in reality
Will trigger clues the monster smells
Down in the dungeon where he dwells.

And once he’s sniffed, that’s all he needs
To find the source and then he feeds,
Depleting all that helps sustain
Stability within the brain.

The victims likely will survive;
The beast prefers they stay alive
Until he craves another snack
And gets the signal to attack.

Raffi

His groupies were in pre-school
(Or their parents, more the like).
At concerts, all his lyrics
Were sung back by every tyke.

We listened to his records
(Way back then, on small cassettes).
When our kids would clap along
That was as good as music gets.

Now 30-plus years later
With our grandson (just past 2),
We watch a younger Raffi
And his power still shines through.

For with YouTube on the iPhone
There’s his presence in our laps
And as Henry watches, mesmerized,
It makes me feel, perhaps…

Somehow time is at a standstill.
What was new once still feels fresh,
Though in truth I’ve no idea today
How Raffi’s in the flesh.

Prepared to Pounce

Just around the corner
With its claws prepared to pounce,
March is patient, waiting
For what Tuesday will announce:

That February's come and gone
Despite its extra day,
So, lion-like, this newest month
Will not be kept at bay.

Although it brings St. Patrick's Day
And, most important, spring,
We never really can predict
What weather March will bring.

The calendar is prepping
For the turning of a page
But exactly what will come with that
Is very hard to gauge.

Turbulence

In the air, a warning
Lets us know what to expect.
Sit and fasten seatbelts!
Says the captain’s voice, direct.

We close our eyes or take a breath
And try our best to chill,
While making sure our coffee
Or tomato juice won’t spill.

But whether we are calm or not
We have to wait it out,
For it’s a part of what
An airplane flight is all about.

It’s just too bad in life we’re not
Provided with a clue
That turbulence is on the way
So we’ll know what to do.

Instead, we’re ambushed every time
And rarely are we ready,
For with no seat belts we proceed
Unstable and unsteady.

In times of anguish we could keep
Anxiety in line
If only we could be forewarned
And see a seatbelt sign.

Bear and Grin It

My friends are renting someone's house
So everything that's in it
Was chosen for another's taste
And they must bear and grin it.

The furniture, the linens,
Every knickknack placed inside
Can't be altered, touched or moved at all
By neither hair nor hide.

It must be strange to realize
That these strangers, as they cook,
Will have access to your kitchen -
Every cranny, every nook.

When owners rent, they must decide
To just say, "What the heck!"
Accepting that they won't be at
Their renters' call and beck.

Kith and Kin

When going on vacation
It might be a true win-win
If, like killing off two birds
You get to visit kith and kin.

Seeing family's a no-brainer
If you're living far away,
But a detour to some friends can make
An even better stay.

Relatives might be the people
You have spent your whole lives with;
Still, it's fun and quite relaxing
When you hang out with your kith.

The Lizards

The lizards scamper up and down
The back porch, on the screen,
Their presence part and parcel
Of the landscape, lush and green.

I'm visiting in Florida,
A far cry from the cold,
Although it's pretty warm back home;
At least that's what I'm told.

Vacations should transport you
To what's different and new
Or else they aren't doing
What you'd hoped that they would do.

If weather won't cooperate,
(Who knows what makes it tick?)
At least I'm still transported
For the lizards did the trick.

Bam!

A long-haired rocker-looking dude,
In black from head to toe,
Sat near me in the terminal
With several friends in tow.

His t-shirt showed off all his ink,
I couldn't help but see;
A picture of a pistol sure
Intimidated me.

He might have been the sweetest guy
And gentle as a lamb
But his tattoo was shouting out,
"You bother me - and bam!"

We show the world a side of us
So people will take note,
Though rarely think we'll pop up
In a poem somebody wrote.

Stretch

It's something that is not quite true
And fits some limousines.
It helps before you exercise
Or lets you put on jeans.

You do it when you're waking up
Or else when tired, maybe;
And it can leave some tummy marks
When you have had a baby.

When reaching for an item
Way too high upon a shelf,
You might employ one if you want
To get the thing yourself.

If we could never use this
We'd have cause to moan or kvetch,
But we're lucky that in all its forms
It's possible to stretch.

Red Tail Hawk

My husband bought me earrings
With an avian design.
They look like feathers of a hawk;
I’m happy that they’re mine.

At first they didn’t grab me
When within the box they lay,
But dangling from my ears they’re great,
As I found out today.

Since red tail hawks will mate for life
The symbolism fits,
For 40 years of marriage means
We’ll never call it quits.

I often witness red tail hawks
In flight or in a tree
And now in silver I can sport
A hawk facsimile.

For Granted

We take for granted things we have
And rarely give a thought to
The many who have so much less;
I guess we really ought to.

Of course, we’ve worked for all we’ve got –
There was no silver platter –
But to the ones who struggle,
That distinction doesn’t matter.

For those of us whom circumstance
Has let us to believe
That life will keep providing
All the goodies we receive…

We should take a moment every day
To thank our lucky stars
For we never know how deep we’ve dipped
In fortune’s reservoirs.

Into the Deluge

My pants were soaked, my coat a’drip,
My boots were saturated;
With sheets of rain that sliced the sky,
I really should have waited.

The puddles on the corners
Most resembled roiling lakes.
Though I had an umbrella,
This was one of my mistakes.

I turned around before I even
Reached my destination,
The knowledge that at least I tried
A sorry consolation.

At home I toweled off and later,
When the rain was through,
I made it to the library –
Today my book was due!

Bonus Time

My moisturizer’s from Clinique.
When I am running low,
I wait until it’s bonus time
And to the store I go.

For give-aways are advertised –
With purchases, of course;
You have to spend a set amount,
Which all the clerks enforce.

So 27 was the price
You’d need to qualify
For the make-up bag of goodies
That Clinique would then supply.

I plucked my lotion from the shelf
But I was in a fix
Because – you guessed it – on the box
The price was 26!

I chuckled at how devious
This tactic seemed to be
For lots of other customers,
Like me, want something free.

Without much hesitation, though,
I knew what I would do.
To get the bonus I deserved,
I splurged and paid for two!

Split Pea Soup

I’m not a cook and rarely do
But when the weather’s cold,
I sometimes make a pot of soup;
It’s pretty good, I’m told.

A bag of split peas does the trick
With carrots and some dill.
Some hours on the stove and then
Ta-ta to winter’s chill.

It makes a hearty winter lunch
And warms me up inside
When others polish off a bowl
My efforts did provide.

Michael Jackson

If you watch Michael Jackson
When he was a boy,
You will smile and delight
In his unabashed joy.

He commanded the stage,
All his brothers mere props,
For as young as he was,
He pulled out all the stops.

Check the Spike Lee biopic
And you’ll be impressed
At the talent and energy
Jackson possessed.

We all heard of his problems –
Each habit and flaw –
But when up on the stage,
He was worthy of awe.

Topsy Turvy

Tomorrow will be frigid
Or at least that's what they say,
With wind chills on the minus side - 
An indoor-staying day.

But then on Tuesday, temps will rise
To 52 degrees,
Allowing all the icy spots
To rapidly unfreeze.

I never know which jacket
Is appropriate to wear
In this topsy turvy weather,
Once considered very rare.

When unpredictable's the norm
What's surely come to pass
Is, like Alice, we have ventured forth
Beyond the looking glass.

Miss Ricky's School of Dance

I know the five positions
(In ballet – don’t get all hot!)
Plus plie and pirouette
But all the rest I plum forgot.

I didn’t have a tutu
But a leotard? Perhaps.
My memory is dimming
And I’m left with just the scraps.

Most likely, I attended
Very briefly, very young,
So a few balletic moves
The only knowledge that has clung.

Was there really a Miss Ricky?
Guess there’s no way I could know
For my ballerina days were over
Many years ago.

A Favor

I hate to ask a favor
‘Cause it puts somebody out.
Of course, to help another
Is what friendship’s all about.

But being self-sufficient
Is the way I like to be,
When all that I require
Is attended to by me.

Yet circumstances sometimes
Interrupt with booming voice,
Creating situations where
I really have no choice.

So I’ll quietly inquire
Of a relative or friend
If what I need taken care of
Is a hand that they could lend.

If they acquiesce, I’m grateful
For their trust I’ve surely earned
But I’ll never be relaxed until
The favor is returned.

Tip of the Tongue

What’s her name again? That actress
In that movie we just saw?
Is she English, maybe? Ooh, her name
Is stuck inside my craw.

Yes, the one we saw on Sunday.
I forgot the movie’s title.
I know it’s not so important
But right now it seems so vital.

The director also did a film
We both enjoyed a lot.
It had many famous people
But I can’t recall the plot.

I could Google it, but really
It’s up in my brain among
All the other miscellanea
That’s gathered on my tongue.

If I’m lucky and I’m patient,
Sometimes what I need will slip
To the place where I can reach it
Just an inch out from the tip.

The Church at the Movies

On Sunday I went to the movies,
A space that the theater now shares
With a church that was holding a service
On the second floor, right up the stairs.

As the clerk took ahold of my ticket,
I noticed the welcoming sign;
So a person who entered had choices –
See a movie or seek the divine.

There were mouthwash and mints in the bathroom
Which the church leaders sweetly supplied,
Though I have to admit I was baffled –
Would a gargle make virtue implied?

As I fixed on the coming attractions,
While relaxed on my faux-leather perch,
I supposed I was one of the sinners
To the worshipers up in the church.

The Pony on East 88th Street

Walking up East 88^th,
I had to smile in shock;
A saddled pony was parading
Up and down the block.

A little girl astride his back
Looked bored or else blasé,
Like a pony on the sidewalk
Happened every single day.

As the other children waited
Patiently to take their turn,
I reflected on the lesson
That those kids would likely learn:

When you’re living in Manhattan,
You will come to realize
That each day has the potential
To deliver a surprise.

Face Time

Henry’s gotten old enough
For phone calls to take place
And now, with new technology,
We get to see his face.

But also he sees ours, as well
As where we do reside.
He doesn’t get here often, so
A tour we did provide.

“There’s Grandpa in the kitchen
Cooking pasta in the pot
And chopping mozzarella cheese,
Which Henry likes a lot!

Look outside – there goes a taxi
And some buildings, big and tall.
In the living room are pictures –
Yes, of you! up on the wall.”

What a wonderful connection!
Though we’re kept apart by miles,
Thanks to mobile phones and WiFi,
We can see each other’s smiles.

Grandpa even gave a tickle
And a high-five at the end.
Though we couldn’t really touch him,
It was better than pretend.

The Eulogies

You listen to the eulogies
Describing someone’s life,
With focus on the happy times
But little on the strife…

The anecdotes to make us laugh
And nod our heads – that’s him!
The picture boards depicting shots
When he was young and slim.

To capture who a person was
Once death has staked his claim
Is like watching reruns of the highlights
Of a tennis game.

You get the gist and understand
How all the points combine
But a life is so much more than just
Where spotlights choose to shine.

A Year Ahead

You plan a trip a year ahead,
The tour group tried and trusted;
Then suddenly you get a call
Which leaves you quite disgusted.

"We're sorry but we're cancelling.
Too few have joined the group.
How 'bout a slightly different time?"
Your spirits start to droop.

The flight's been booked, insurance paid
And everything arranged;
Yet you're supposed to say "Oh, sure"
When all must now be changed.

It doesn't pay to plan, for if
Experience does serve,
When you're prepared to swing away,
Life throws a nasty curve.

Leading a Tour*

The students were a sassy bunch,
Inquisitive and loud.
They questioned and debated,
Some outstanding in the crowd.

I pointed out the artifacts,
Related and explained
And marveled at discussions
With the knowledge they obtained.

It doesn’t always flow this way,
So this was a delight,
A privilege to be leading them,
To watch those sparks ignite.

Perhaps they won’t remember me
But if my gut’s correct,
We all gained something rare – so nice
When old and young connect.

*I volunteer at a museum, leading school groups

Ted Cruz

I hate to write about Ted Cruz;
He’s creepy and he’s scary.
The GOP (the side he’s on!)
Of him seems very wary.

The folks who know him hate his guts
(His family excluded),
Implying Trump would better serve
(Or that’s what I concluded).

To Grandpa Munster he’s compared;
His grin is slick and smarmy.
I wouldn’t like to see him head
The country or the army.

Though Iowa put Cruz on top,
The rest may still decide
A president should not be made
From pique personified.

Our Friend Rick

A gentle soul was our friend Rick,
Who never had a bone to pick
With anyone or anything,
His kindness worth admiring.

He loved the ocean and the bay
And fishing really made his day.
The time he spent on LBI
Imbued him with a natural high.

Both Brett and Evan knew they had
An extra-special loving dad
Who took great pride in all they’d do
(Which lately, too, included Woo).

Rick lived a most contented life
With Tracie, his devoted wife.
As high school sweethearts ‘til the end,
He knew on her he could depend.

Our get-togethers, through the years,
Were spent imbibing lots of beers
And sharing meals to help us rally
After every bowling alley.

How we’ll miss our loyal friend!
It’s hard for us to comprehend
That we’ll no longer see his face
Or get to feel his warm embrace.

But in our hearts, where mem’ries thrive,
Dear Rick is very much alive.
He’s smiling in the salty air
Of LBI – I see him there.