Home Sick

The year now ebbs; the clock goes tick
And I’m at home and feeling sick
So even though it’s New Year’s Eve,
There is no party up my sleeve.

We were invited to a bash
But sometimes, quicker than a flash,
Your plans go poof! and you are stuck
Out of the loop and out of luck.

I’m sure the party will be fun
And I’ll miss seeing everyone
Though I’ll veg out on “Twilight Zone”
And thankfully, won’t be alone.

For as these final hours do creep,
My hub and I will fall asleep
And maybe wake up when we hear
The countdown to the brand-new year.

Yet even if we miss the toast,
We’ll have what really matters most –
Each other and our friends and kin
To welcome 20-18 in!

Reflections on a Crime

A town in Georgia had a rash
Of crimes; the perp was bold and brash,
Destroying mirrors on the side
That automakers do provide.

The cops assumed that it was teens
‘Cause pranks are part of teenage genes
Until a neighbor strolling by
The mirror-basher did espy.

It wasn’t kids, but what occurred
Was vicious pecking by a bird
Who likely thought, as theories go,
His mirror image was his foe.

It goes to show, don’t jump the gun
Accusing teens or anyone.
When mirrors somehow end up wrecked,
That perp might just be one who pecked.

From Split Peas to Soup

I brought the ingredients,
All that it took,
So we could, together,
Have something to cook.

I opened the package
And, quick as a shot,
But carefully, Henry
Poured them in a pot.

He added some water
And sprinkled some dill.
I chopped up the carrots;
The cauldron did fill.

The mixture did simmer;
Aromas did rise.
I added some alphabets
As a surprise.

At last it was finished.
The wait was replaced
By the pride Henry felt
At his very first taste.

On Demand

I never figured out
On VCR’s how to record
And when my friends used TIVO,
I was also not on board.

So all that I could watch were shows
Or movies when they aired.
I guess that I was simply
Technologically impaired.

Not anymore! For I can tune
To cable On Demand,
Where lots of series, films and such
Are there at my command.

So on a freezing afternoon,
My TV did provide
A top-notch movie I enjoyed
While snug and warm inside.

De-livered

A British surgeon yearning for
Some immortality
Did laser his initials
On some livers, carefully.

His action was uncovered
When one liver didn’t heal;
With a second operation,
The initials did reveal.

I wonder at his motives
For if it were simply pride,
Why then etch his inspiration
In a place so deep inside?

In the end it doesn’t matter
For the courts will soon deliver
This strange surgeon and his hubris
To his new home up the river.

Henry in the City

We took Henry* on the subway,
On the streets and on the bus
And he got into the rhythm,
Rarely kicking up a fuss.

Just as long as we all boarded
While the doors were open wide
He marched in like a New Yorker,
Taking all of it in stride.

Though we’d planned on a museum
(After seeing dad at work),
He preferred to hang at home with us,
An offer we’d not shirk.

So we read and ate and danced and played
And laughed and checked things out,
A day we all enjoyed so much;
Of that, there is no doubt.

When in time we met with daddy
For their railroad ride back home,
We were filled with smiles and stories
And the fodder for my poem.

*my 4 year old grandson

The Esplanade

In Pennsylvania, there was snow
But back here in the city,
This Christmas isn’t white, but still,
The glowing sun looks pretty.

So we went out to take a walk
Along the dappled river,
The bracing air a pick-me-up
But not enough to shiver.

The pathway has been partly closed
For upgrades and repairing,
With April as the date to finish;
I have been despairing.

But suddenly, lo and behold!
One brand-new part’s completed
And to a lovely high-up
River stroll we’ve just been treated.

Though this is not my holiday,
It feels like I’ve been gifted
To have the esplanade returned,
My heart and mood uplifted.

Breakfast Company

Some friends came by for breakfast,
Which doesn't happen lots.
It's easier than dinner -
Fewer bowls and cooking pots.

Scrambled eggs and fried potatoes,
Bacon, bagels, coffee, cheese,
Juice and honeydew and cookies -
Many choices meant to please.

Yummy food and conversation,
Under morning's sunny sway,
Is a special way to welcome
What will be a lovely day.

Winter Rain

There is one thing I surely do know - 
That because of the way winds might blow,
We'll have hours of rain 
Which, though, really a pain,
Just as easily could have been snow!

Tonight, when the raindrops do stop,
Then the temperature's likely to drop
And, though that will be nice,
Once the streets turn to ice,
Up the likelihood goes I'll go plop!

The Wrinkle in the Story

At night I slather on my face
An anti-wrinkle cream
So it can make me youthful
While I toss and turn and dream.

Of course it doesn't work and yet,
This ritual remains,
With just the manufacturer 
To really make some gains.

Surprisingly, I saw an ad 
(Full-page, The New York Times)
That made me laugh, for irony
Inspires many rhymes.

It claimed most women do believe
They're judged based on their age;
Unfairly, too, the font declared
Upon the paper's page.

The ad was paid for by Olay,
My anti-wrinkle maker,
Reminding us that age should not
Define a gal or break her.

A bit ironic, don't you think?
To follow their advice,
I should not use their anti-aging
Wrinkle merchandise!

Divergent

What makes two siblings or two friends,
With lives not quite emergent,
Choose two paths that lead to places
Totally divergent?

For their growing up together,
Though it surely forms a link,
Doesn’t guarantee a future
Quite as close as you might think.

Unlike branches on a tree trunk,
Those connected when they’re young
Are like seed pods which a whirlwind,
In its haste, has wildly flung.

So they end up living far from
Those for whom they strongly cared,
Never dreaming how lives differ
From the one they once had shared.

Photo Op

With time to kill, I hit the zoo
And mingled with the tourists, who
Took selfies near the sea lion pool,
Behavior I’d not ridicule.

But what I did find quite amusing
And, at first, a bit confusing,
Was the focus of a crowd
Which oohed and aahed both long and loud.

It was a squirrel up a tree,
With tail that twitched for all to see;
Yet penguins, lemurs, grizzly bears
Did not attract those types of stares.

Perhaps if I lived in a place
Where squirrels didn’t dash and race,
I, too, would grin in pure delight
At such a common New York sight.

Buy-Gones*

The craft fair had some high-end things,
Just waiting for a buyer.
My friends found items that they knew
They needed to acquire.

Though I relished all the looking,
Nothing seemed to call my name;
I took pleasure in the purchases
Of others, just the same.

After lunch and conversation,
We gave hugs and said goodbyes
But a text an hour later
Really took me by surprise.

Seems a newly-purchased bracelet,
One my pal could not resist,
Simply fell apart as she rode home
And tumbled from her wrist.

Sure, she has the crafter’s email
And she’ll try to get in touch
But it kind of spoiled the afternoon
We’d all enjoyed so much.

Guess we never know if something
Is a product to endorse
Though today my lack of buying
Means no ownership remorse!

*thanks to my husband for the title

Lucking Out

We took a chance by visiting,
Two weeks ago today,
A city known for frigid temps
But we lucked out that way.

For it was chilly, but not much,
With just one day of ice,
So we walked all around the town;
Our jackets did suffice.

The weather app that’s on my phone’s
Still set to where we were.
The temps this coming week deserve
Just one response – that’s BRRR!

The high one day is minus 4;
At night, minus 15.
Vacationers-to-be need
Common sense to intervene.

For had we been there in that cold,
No sights could quite compel
Us to venture further than the lobby
Of our warm hotel.

A Privilege

The concert hall was filled with kids,
Their families in tow.
As nana (and my husband, grandpa)
We were thrilled to go.

We clapped our hands and sang along
While bopping to the beat,
An audience enchanted;
(For the band, no easy feat).

It’s wonderful to see the world
Through children’s waiting eyes,
So ready to receive the joy
They rightly recognize.

And it’s a privilege to be there
As witness to their growing,
And maybe add a little bit
To what they’ll end up knowing.

Jumping to Conclusions

Jumping to conclusions
Reinforces your illusions
That the way things are
Are how they shouldn’t be.

To avoid any confusions
Or suspicions of delusions
Some investigation
Seems to be the key.

Then you’ll find, to the exclusions
Of some paranoid collusions,
That the things you thought
Are not exactly true…

So be sure that such inclusions
Happen fast before seclusions
Are the punishments
That wait in store for you.

The Doll House

It sat there on the bookstore shelf
And called attention to itself;
With stairs and lights and rooms to fill,
I thought that joy it would instill.

I schlepped it home and wrapped it tight,
Anticipating sheer delight
When both the grandkids got their gift;
How it would give my heart a lift!

The paper ripped, the house unpacked,
Assembled with our wits intact,
I waited for the eyes to light
But never counted on a fight.

For each one thought that he did know
Where every item ought to go
And naturally, their views diverged
While tempers flared and shrieking surged.

At last, to combat noise pollution,
We arrived at a solution –
Separate times for each to play
To keep the rivalry at bay.

But hours later, there’s a truce;
The reason why, I can’t deduce.
I’m watching them attempt to share;
To intervene, I wouldn’t dare!

Twenty-One Envelopes

Inside the box were twenty cards
To send to twenty friends
Or any folk to whom your wish
For festive joy extends.

But when I filled them out and they
Were signed and stamped and sealed,
I realized that the box had
One more envelope to yield.

It wasn’t a surprise, for it’s
Been just that way for years,
Though recently some companies
Have started switching gears.

The extra envelope is there
In case you make a goof
When writing an address;
Just start again and there’s no proof.

I guess the manufacturers
Thought little of our skill
To copy an address, but I
Their image won’t fulfill.

And so I have a drawer that’s full
Of envelopes galore.
I’m set for life if extras
Aren’t added anymore.

To Recommend

I’m wary when I recommend
A restaurant or show.
Because I like it doesn’t mean
That’s where you’d want to go.

The same applies to movies
Or museums or hotels.
Our tastes may be so different
They’re not even parallels.

And as for docs and dentists,
There could always be a chance
You might have an outcome that would
Make you look at me askance.

If you ask for my opinions,
Take them with a grain of salt
So if you hate my suggestions
Then, at least, it’s not my fault.

Baking Cookies

I made the dough and let it set
For hours in the fridge,
Then rolled it out and cut the shapes
And added just a smidge

Of colored sugar on the tops.
Then while one batch was baking,
I started on another,
An enormous undertaking.

In fact, as time ticked by I felt
Exhausted; you may laugh
Because I had four balls of dough,
But only finished half.

My stopping in the middle really
Wasn’t a mistake,
For baking when you’re older means
You’ve gotta take a break!

An Afternoon of Mah Jongg

We catch up on our travels
And our families and homes.
(Not everyone’s on Facebook
Or reveals such stuff in poems.)

The lives we live are parallel
Though sometimes they converge;
So when they do, on food
And conversation we do splurge.

The game is incidental;
Still, we try to do our best
But even if we lose all day,
It doesn’t make us stressed.

An afternoon of mah jongg
Fills the room with clacking tiles.
More  important are the faces
Of the players, filled with smiles.

Today

Today I did some shopping
And my exercise as well.
I visited my kids and saw
The grands, for just a spell.

An ordinary Sunday, but
For one thing on my mind –
This date’s the one on which my dad
Left earthly life behind.

It happened many years ago
But when this day rolls ‘round,
A sadness fills my heart that is
Both subtle and profound.

Yet all I thought about
While every hour slipped on by
Was that now, today, some other people’s
Dads will also die.

Snowing

It’s snowing and blowing;
Anxiety’s growing.
The sidewalks and roads may be slick.
I’m waiting, equating
My fear’s escalating
With how much these flakes seem to stick.

The trees, as they freeze
Look so pretty, they please
Every eye that takes time in observing.
Those who rush through the slush
Miss a picture so plush
It’s a pity, though they’re not deserving.

As hours devour
The day’s waning power,
I gaze out the window and worry,
But bearing despairing
At least isn’t sparing
The beauty that’s born from this flurry.

Bouncing

Give a kid a trampoline
And instantly she's bouncing
With joy that far exceeds
Whatever game her jumps are trouncing.

A little music makes the fun,
If possible, much better.
If you've a child who wants to try,
Don't hesitate - just let 'er!

For glee is hard to come by
As we age and fear starts showing
So it's best to seek occasions
That will set most grins to glowing.

In this spirit I am writing,
Which is my way of announcing,
That to make your charges happy,
Find a gym and get them bouncing!

Clean Reading

The super put a bookcase
In the laundry room one day
Which neighbors filled with books
They were prepared to give away.

Soon some magazines were added
And some children’s lit as well,
All just waiting to be claimed by those
Who in this building dwell.

We contributed some novels
And non-fiction from my spouse
For apartments lack the luxury
Of space, unlike a house.

So I’m currently engrossed in
An address-mate's tome I took,
Since each time we do the laundry,
I can find another book!

Where We Go

Why do you go where you go, people ask.
Why do you do what you do?
If cities do beckon, then it is our task
To visit and find something new.

It may be museums or gardens or zoos
Or mansions decked out in their best
Or neighborhoods bustling with stores to peruse
Worth hours we have to invest.

Some people love beaches or cruises at sea
Or staying at home and relaxing.
Whatever your pleasure, vacations should be
Filled with fun, never stressful or taxing.

Our trips may not match what you’d like and I’m sure
What you’d pick wouldn’t be what I’d choose
But if all of us heed to that R&R* lure,
In our own way, then no one would lose.

*rest and relaxation

Skyways

Temps are freezing, but the locals
 Do not care a whit.
They leave their jackets at their desks
And onward they do flit...

To coffee shops and hair salons,
To newsstands, stores and banks
And for this huge convenience,
To whom do they owe their thanks?

Designers of the skyways,
Who were clever, smart and bold,
Creating walkways (glass-enclosed)
To block the rain and cold.

So those in Minneapolis
Who know their way around
Move easily from place to place
And never touch the ground.

To visitors, alas, this maze
Is daunting, so the cost
Of trying is to either freeze
Or end up getting lost!

The Lobby

A lobby's meant to represent
The building it is fronting,
To welcome all who enter
From the elements it's blunting.

It may be fancy, to impress
Or functional and boring
But either way, it greets us
From its ceilings to its flooring.

And whether an apartment, office,
Inn or a hotel,
The lobby sends a message
Not too easy to dispel.

It lets us know if we fit in
Or if we don't belong
And nothing can convince us
That our feelings might be wrong.

History Museums

History museums
Never seem to let me down,
No matter what the country
Or the city or the town.

From homes and music of the past
To cars and toys and fashion,
It's fun to reenact those times
Once lived with so much passion.

In Minnesota, an exhibit
Geared to World War II,
Had so much I remembered,
Though my birth was not yet due:

Soda fountains, pay phones
With those rotary-type dials,
Movies made in black and white
And cars in retro styles.

Pepsodent commercials,
Alfred Hitchcock, Humphrey, Clark,
Betty Boop and Girl Scout badges -
Memories did spark.

A history museum
Brings us back to where we were
Or where we might have been
To watch those happenings occur.

In Minneapolis

Here in Minneapolis,
In weather bright and cool,
We crossed the Mississippi
Then we headed to the school.

Two students helped to guide us
To the campus place for art,
A museum by Frank Gehry,
Not a shabby place to start.

We checked out the ceramics,
Sculptures, paintings and the shop
Then in need of rest and sustenance,
We thought we'd take a stop.

And that's when we found Annie's,
Where a coffee malt and fries
(Both delicious!) perked us up -
A Minneapolis surprise.

See, my favorite part of travel
Is to find a local thing -
Be it food or craft or scenery -
Such pleasure does it bring!

And though sometimes it's familiar,
Like the fries and malt today,
If I'd been at home, I would not do
What's done when I'm away.

Christmas Lights

My granddaughter, just two years old,
States clearly her desires
And also lets us know when there is
Something she admires.

So “Christmas lights!” she shouts with joy
When we pass homes so brightened.
It’s really quite adorable
That she is that enlightened…

Yet not because she’s so advanced
For one whose life is newish,
But rather cause, like all her kin,
She happens to be Jewish!