Along the Water in Marseille

A charming town, with bobbing boats
And restaurants or small cafes,
Finds us all bundled in our coats 
On this, the gloomiest of days.

The rain, though, takes a little break;
The Ferris wheel goes 'round and 'round.
At booths with crafts that people make
We see what items can be found.

A market filled with fish for sale 
Attracts us with its fresh array
Of creatures stretched from teeth to tail,
A strange and glistening display.

The locals mingle, doing chores,
With tourists taking in the scene 
As traffic flows and all the stores
Compete as customers convene.

I'd hoped for sun, but I'll admit 
That clouds and raindrops couldn't dent
The dazzle of Marseille, for it
Has charm you couldn't circumvent.

On the Cruise

Instead of names, we're often called
By where we do reside,
So, "Hey, New York!" we're greeted with,
A simple ID guide.

Thus Texas, Fresno, Cleveland
And Kentucky we have met
And Arkansas and others
We have not conversed with yet.

A member of the crew, as well,
Who helped us, with delight,
We learned lives now in London
But was from the Isle of Wight.

So later, in the evening,
While we watched a staged revue,
I realized a performer
Was a friendly face I knew.

The singers mingled with the crowd
At their performance end
And thus I had a chance to chat
With my new English friend.

"Hey, Isle of Wight!" I sang out,
"You were great up on that stage!"
He beamed in recognition,
Such a nice way to engage.

Safety Drill

When you travel on a ship or plane
(But not a bus, a tram or train),
Just heed my words because you will
Be forced to have a safety drill.

It's really like a little test
On how to wear your neon vest.
Adjust the straps and find the light
And whistle - then you'll be all right.

Of course, in real emergencies,
These demonstrations won't appease.
Imagine jumping in the sea -
The psycho screaming would be me!

Yet calmly, we all sit and smile
And listen for a little while
So if need be, we'll be prepared
And just a teensy bit less scared.

First Impressions

The ship is overwhelming,
Way outside our comfort zone,
Much different from the other
River cruises we have known.

We're jet lagged and exhausted,
With no energy to spare,
So shuttling to town just seems
Too much for us to bear.

We had a little lunch, though
And enjoyed the view and food;
Unpacked our stuff which really helped
To brighten up my mood.

We're sitting on a deck now,
Simply soaking up the sun,
The sea a sparkling vista;
Our adventure has begun.

I jump at first impressions,
Often negative and flat
But at least when I strike out
I get another chance at bat.

Before a Trip

Before a trip, of course you pack
And shop for needed things you lack;
Then just so there will be no flack,
You straighten up your home.

You give your plants an extra snack
And raise the windows just a crack;
Then leave a bag to hold the stack
Of papers while you roam.

Do all of this while keeping track
So you don’t have a stress attack
And maybe, if you have the knack,
Describe it in a poem.

The Bad Poetry Contest

In school, we had to memorize
A poem from time to time.
Of course, back then, most certainly,
It was a verse in rhyme.

Joyce Kilmer’s “Trees” was one of them.
For years I wondered why
The poet’s name was Joyce when
We were told he was a guy.

But I digress – for recently,
I read about a match
Where would-be poets vied
To write an awful poem from scratch.

It takes place at Columbia
And yes, it gets its name
From A. Joyce Kilmer, he of “Trees,”
His calling card to fame.

Professors pick the winner,
And the choices are diverse,
From all other contest entries
To find one which seems much worse.

I wonder what Ms. Klasowitz
Would think about a prize
Given to a poem as bad as that
She had us memorize!

Heads Up

When driving, we use WAZE, which is
A talking GPS.
It finds the quickest routes and thus
Eliminates some stress.

At times, it issues warnings
Like an "obstacle on road,"
So we'll both be on the lookout
To avoid our being towed.

But it took a while to realize 
That an "animal ahead"
Won't leap out to cause some damage;
It's already stone cold dead!

Hosting T-Day

When the guests all arrive
And the food tastes okay
And the grown-ups watch football
While kids get to play…

It’s a magical day,
Calm replacing all stress
Though the clean-up awaits
And the kitchen’s a mess.

Still, such feelings of warmth
Cling to every pore
And as minutes tick by
I wish there could be more.

But we hug our goodbyes
And we load up the sink.
All that prep and excitement
Dissolved in a blink.

Turkey Day Ops

You clean, you shop, you stir, you chop;
You add marshmallows to the top.
You cannot stop or all will flop;
The doorbell rings – you smile and hop.

The sweat you mop or oven prop;
With guests, the anecdotes you swap.
A drink you cop but dare not drop
A morsel of your festive crop.

From shop to chop to hop to mop,
The day will pass – and then you’ll plop!

*Happy Thanksgiving Day!

Phone Books

The purpose of a phone book
Back when I was very small
Was to raise the height of children
Who were young and not too tall.

The kiddie table sat them first
But then they weren’t part of
The main event of which they hoped
To squeeze into the heart of.

So when their parents gave consent
They joined the grown-up table
Yet being short, to reach their plates
They simply weren’t able.

So phone books to the rescue!
With the slightest little push
A directory was placed beneath
Each toddler’s waiting tush.

The meal went on until those kids
Were bundled off to slumber
And never did we use those books
To find one single number!

Other Poets

Other poets write of love
Or beauty, anguish, death;
Of yearning, angst or pity
Tangled up in every breath.

Other poets use their words
As weapons or as shields,
Gauging by reactions
All the power writing yields.

Other poets elevate
Their subjects way up high,
Seeking truth or explanations,
Answers to their aching “Why?”

I, though, on the other hand,
Just write what I observe –
The daily challenges in life
We do or don’t deserve.

Other poets’ lofty thoughts
May, more than mine, be read,
But I’ll continue rhyming
Like I always do, instead.

Damaged Goods

Ordered a dresser; waited a week.
One it’s replacing is way past its peak.
When it arrived, we were sorry to see
That it wasn’t the way that we thought it would be.

Two corners were bashed, like it might have been dropped
Which we hadn’t expected, of course, when we shopped.
A bit disappointing, but all we can do
Is wait days for the company’s swap to come through…

And hope that the next one will get here intact
Which it will be if somehow it’s properly packed,
For though all things acquire some damage some day,
They should certainly never start out in that way.

Car Trouble

A giant tree came crashing down
And crushed a local car.
The owner may not know it –
He has not shown up so far.

His car was safely parked (he thought);
The spot, when he did pick it,
Is legal up ‘til Tuesday when
He’ll likely get a ticket.

I wonder what the cops will do
With summons time impending.
Place ticket on the windshield (smashed)
As if they are pretending…

That nothing’s wrong? If that occurs
That driver needs some pity –
A fallen tree, a bashed up car
And money owed the city! 

Lucky in Life

To be lucky in life, you’re qualified
If you have someone by your side –
A spouse, a parent, sib or friend,
Just one on whom you can depend.

You don’t need trappings tied to wealth,
(Though you’re in luck to have good health)
For fancy digs or costly clothes
Do not a lucky life expose.

But if you’re fortunate enough
To know when times are really rough
Of even just a little stressed
Your agita will be addressed,

You have to thank whatever fates
Have granted you such special mates.
Just knowing someone has your back
Makes up for anything you lack.

Snow Boots

When streets are all covered with snow 
There's one thing I surely do know.
In order to stomp
On the snow hills and romp 
You need snow boots wherever you go.

Your toes will stay cozy and dry 
Even if more flakes fall from the sky.
Every puddle awaits
So 'till winter abates
Kiss your usual footwear goodbye.

As Predicted

The storm came as predicted;
It wasn’t a surprise.
We’d canceled plans as every
Weather forecast did advise.

With lots to keep us busy,
We hunkered down indoors
And even did some online shopping.
(Easier than stores!)

The snow’s still blowing sideways;
The roads have hidden ice
But in our cozy haven
It feels comfortable and nice.

Tomorrow we must travel;
I hope the storm abates.
We’ll wait until the morning
To see what trial awaits.

Gratis

I ordered a coffee,
My cash in my hand.
The clerk waved it off;
I did not understand.

“Just have a nice Wednesday;
The coffee’s on me,”
He said as I realized
My coffee was free.

I don’t look decrepit
Or homeless or poor,
But much like the others
In line at the store.

Except for one thing –
I don’t need to be told
That compared to his customers,
Yes, I am OLD!

You’d think I’d be happy
But all I can say
Is, although I’m a senior,
I’d just as soon pay!

A Gloomy Day

A gloomy day that’s wet and gray
Is one in which it’s nice to stay
At home to do the things you should
But wouldn’t, if the weather’s good.

So I did fine with gifts online
Because the sun refused to shine,
Then gave in to a guilt attack
And for a trip began to pack.

I tried on clothes, rejecting those
In which I’d hate to picture pose,
Then ironed out each nagging crease
To give my mind a little peace.

I don’t deny that if the sky
Had brightened up, I know that I
Would not have tackled chores that wait
But rather would procrastinate.

Night Grammar

I am a curled up comma
When I sleep, so give me pause.
I’m sentenced to insomnia
Which grips me in its clause.

I’m subject to a poor night’s rest;
That’s predicated on
The fact that I have tossed and turned
Each night that’s come and gone.

Don’t question if I’m in control
Or I’ll get out of joint
And answer very forcefully
With exclamation point.

The night’s a restless period
And though I barely sleep,
My colon and its semi-friends
My secrets somehow keep.

Dumb Mistakes

You get no breaks from dumb mistakes
For when you’re inattentive,
You’re bound to miss or else dismiss
A step that is preventive.

An extra glance may make the chance
Of messing up much lower,
As will a pause and that’s because
When we do things much slower…

We’ll likely spot the things we’d not
When we are in a hurry
And thus prevent the time we’ve spent
Consumed by doubt and worry.

Of course, in life, there must be strife
And if we make a fumble,
It doesn’t pay to waste all day
In irritating grumble.

First Snow

We drove to our house 
In a dusting of snow,
Surprising us all
With its sudden swift show.

We got out the shovels 
And cranked up the heat,
Then covered the deck chairs
To make things complete.

But meanwhile my sister,
A Florida gal,
Was about to go swim
In her too-hot locale.

The Key Got Stuck

The key got stuck inside the lock
Securing our son's door. 
We turned and twisted but
It wasn't budging anymore.

The locksmith took a bit of time
But finally arrived
Since we were, from that entrance,
Most annoyingly deprived.

He nailed the problem 1 - 2 - 3
(The cylinders were jammed)
And now the door is good as new, 
Just waiting to be slammed.

Emergencies are costly -
That we really can't debate
And that is why the bill's
$143 (dot) 88!

Fitted Sheets

Do a wash with fitted sheets
And often, you’ll be finding
Socks or t-shirts stuck inside
In need of some unwinding.

For as the dryer spins around
Such items are attracted
Into the vortex of those sheets
And need to be extracted.

It’s easy to forget to look
So by the time I spy them,
The cycle’s almost finished
And there isn’t time to dry them.

Each laundry day I wonder,
As I open the machines,
What those sheets have trapped; today
It was a pair of sopping jeans!

The Funeral

He sprinkled holy water
In my Uncle Aaron’s grave.
That isn’t how a rabbi
Would most typically behave.

But nondenominational’s
The cemetery’s claim.
Perhaps he wanted to appease
The mourners who all came.

The prayers were said, the dirt was tossed,
The tears our grief’s release.
Despite the circumstance, I hope
My uncle is at peace.

The New Bookcase

We ordered a bookcase.
It came in a box.
To put it together,
We had to outfox

Supposed instructions –
All pics, not a word.
Yet we carried on –
We would not be deterred!

We had the right tools,
All the nails, all the screws
And with plenty of time
We had nothing to lose.

We made some mistakes
But they all got repaired
And there wasn’t a minute
We really despaired.

At last it was finished
And now it is filled.
It looks better than great
And nobody got killed!

My Uncle Aaron

My cool and cultured uncle
Loved the theater, opera, art.
He opened up my eyes to worlds
That tapped into my heart.

In neighborhoods I never knew
He settled and he thrived.
His travels proved that from such trips
I shouldn’t be deprived.

He rose above his setbacks
With both confidence and grace
And every new experience
He’d conquer and embrace.

The yin to his kid brother’s yang
(That brother was my dad),
I treasured him as counter
To the growing up I had.

If we’re in luck, we love our folks
But also get to share
An aunt or uncle, giving life
A dash of extra flair.

The Extra Wheel

Introduce two friends;
You may become the extra wheel.
Maybe paranoia?
But it's just the way you feel.

Suddenly they're making plans
And you are not included.
Might not be intentional 
Yet still you feel excluded.

Some would shrug it off
Though if you're wired more like me,
You'll be subject to an overage
Of sensitivity.

Uncle Aaron's Passing

My father's older brother
Passed away at 95.
That's 40 more years than
His younger sibling was alive.

My father never lived to meet
His grandkids or to know
The joy that such relationships
Allow to bloom and grow.

My uncle, though, had much more time
To travel, live and learn 
But sadly, from his children 
He got nothing in return.

Estranged from both (not by his choice)
He, like my father, missed
Connecting with the family 
From which he was dismissed.

Yet Uncle Aaron had the love
Of others; I am one
Who'll mourn his death much more
Than both his daughter and his son.

Side by Side

On the couch they sit and draw
On matching sketching screens,
For as they grow we get to see
Such sweet domestic scenes.

From solitary play
To sibling rivalry, or worse,
This side by side togetherness
Is friction in reverse.

Of course, it's just occasional
But when their play's in sync,
It's really something special.
(Though it's over in a blink!)

Halloween Parades

The Village Halloween Parade*
Is famous through the land,
The costumes so creative
That they surely beat the band.

But I was sent some pictures
And some video as well
From a local school parade
Much cuter, far as I can tell.

The kindergarten students,
Dressed in various disguise,
Sang their hearts out in the schoolyard,
An adorable surprise.

They’d been practicing for weeks
And their performance a delight,
With choreography to mimic
Witch’s broom or vampire bite.

Of course, you’ve figured out by now
This was my grandson’s school,
Which, with him inside, will always
Be the best. (That’s Nana’s rule!)

*in New York City’s Greenwich Village