Dog-Eared

I’ve been reading a book from the library,
A novel that engages,
And I noticed a very disturbing trend
In the corners of numerous pages.

I think the appropriate name for this
Is “dog-eared,”or so I’m told;
When the uppermost corner of the page
Has the marks of a previous fold.

This particular book has not one or two,
But a scattering throughout;
So the reader had paused quite a lot, it seems,
Interrupted or bored, no doubt.

Did the person not have, anywhere in sight,
A bookmark or makeshift adapter?
And the horror, to me, is that every fold’s
In the middle of every chapter!

At least read to the end where you’re meant to stop
Before you crease and deface;
Though I really do not understand
Why a bookmark can’t hold your place.

‘Cause the book isn’t yours – it’s a borrowed treat;
You should handle it with care.
If ‘twere my book I’d lent and you did the same,
Well, I hope that you wouldn’t dare.

As a reader I do appreciate
All the library’s vast array,
And I’m thrilled that such treasures are waiting there
Like toy soldiers, propped for display.

But I wish every reader would stop and think
That each book, for a time, at least,
Will be back on the shelf ‘til a new reader comes
Who would like pages quite uncreased!

Air Fives

A fifth grade boy I met last week
On a museum tour
Asked me for a favor
I had never heard before.

He said, “I need an air five,”
And I knew just what he meant.
Maybe high fives spread the germs
That air fives would prevent.

I gave him what he asked for;
Said his goal was twenty-five.
I knew by his demeanor
At that number he’d arrive.

He had the spark and sizzle,
Dimpled cheeks and curly hair;
His classmates flocked around
And tried to emulate his flair.

“Have all your pals air-fived you?”
I inquired of my new friend.
“It must be people I don’t know!”
Did I not comprehend?

I smiled at the reminder
Of how youth knows not from danger;
So much is there to gain from just
The air five of a stranger.

How wonderful to be that age
When you have yet to learn
That getting twenty-five air fives
Is not your chief concern.

Yet what a joy to sail along
When your most pressing need
Can easily be satisfied –
You know you can succeed.

I hope that feeling will remain
Within this boy, alive;
And may his years ahead be filled
With many an air five.

Easter

Before you wish me Happy Easter,
Here’s a little clue:
I really won’t be very thrilled
Because I am a Jew.

It’s Passover right now to me,
So hold off on your greeting;
I won’t point out your error,
Which would just be self-defeating.

But I would like to let you know
It makes me feel dismissed
When wishes are presented
As if Jews did not exist.

So wish me happy holiday,
But don’t get too specific;
And by the way, I hope for you,
Your Easter was terrific!

Going to Sleep

If I had my druthers,
I’d drift off to sleep
To the sweet notes of jazz tunes,
Like others count sheep.

I once used to listen
Each night, as I faded,
To rock and roll classics
And no, I’m not jaded.

I still love rock music,
But don’t sleep alone;
And music at bed time
Elicits a groan

Or worse, from my husband.
It stops him from sleeping;
Though we can hear city sounds –
Honking and beeping.

That doesn’t disturb him.
But I recognize
In marriage, one has to
Accept compromise.

So I keep the radio
Off, when in bed,
And fall asleep thinking
Of rhymes in my head.

As far as solutions go,
This ones’ all right.
I get a head start
On my blog poem each night!

Getting the Mail

I cannot wait to get the mail.
It feels like a surprise;
Though often there’s not very much
To really tantalize.

Of course, there’s junk and there are bills
And catalogues galore.
But once in a great while
There might be a little more.

Perhaps I’ll find an answer
To a query I had written,
Or there will be the package
With whatever had me smitten.

There may be photographs
Or cards that play a little tune,
And birthdays are occasions
When the card can’t come too soon.

Today’s my birthday and I hope
The mail will have me claim
A slew of birthday wishes;
E-cards aren’t quite the same.

I love to see who’s thought of me,
And then I will display
The lovely greetings I receive
To celebrate my day.

To everyone who took the time
To get those wishes sent,
I’m really so appreciative;
Your effort was well-spent.

If you forgot or had no
Energy you could exert,
I will be disappointed
And I guess a little hurt.

But here’s the greatest thing of all,
The reason I love mail:
Tomorrow there’s another chance
That treasure I’ll unveil.

Perhaps it will be nothing more
Than mail recirculated;
But possibly, I’ll come upon
Some birthday cards, belated.

Underwear

I bought myself some underwear
In stripes and wild designs.
Although no one will see them,
I’ll feel dressed up to the nines.

The underwear I like is cotton,
String-bikini style;
They aren’t sexy, but they also
Aren’t juvenile.

My husband would prefer if I
Wore thongs of silk or satin;
I’m sure he’d find a ton of them
On women in Manhattan.

But I prefer the comfort of
My undies made of cotton;
As long as they are colorful,
I love the ones I’ve gotten.

A friend at work once mentioned
All her underwear was white.
She liked old-fashioned bloomer types
And had no appetite

For anything more snazzy;
She liked functional and plain.
She said – Nobody sees them,
So who cares? Can you explain?

I thought about it and replied,
I like that no one knows,
Despite the way I may appear,
I’m showy ‘neath my clothes.

When I get dressed, I’m happiest
With underwear that shouts;
But it’s my little secret
No one has to know about.

So next time you are on the street,
Give passersby a glance;
And fantasize a little bit
‘Bout what’s beneath their pants!

Passover

Here’s my advice:
(Not what you might seek)
Since Passover’s only
One very quick week,

Eat lots of matzoh,
Drink lots of wine,
You’ll breeze right through it;
You’ll be just fine.

It really is not
Such a very big pain.
Next week there’ll be bagels,
So do not complain!