Your Breathing

Your steady breathing next to mine
Is sweeter than the sweetest wine.
Just knowing that you’re always there
Is like an answer to a prayer.

You are my anchor and my rock;
My savings bond, my rising stock.
You feed my stomach and my soul;
Without you, I would not be whole.

At night, each whispered breath I measure
Poofs into the air like treasure.
So much comfort can be found
Within that quiet, peaceful sound.

Often, sleep won’t heed my call;
But as you slumber, I’m in thrall.
Each exhale, as it disappears,
Is like sweet music to my ears.

Missing the Party

The party is starting
But you just can’t make it.
Your reasons are real - 
You’re not one to fake it.

You picture the people,
The drinks and the food.
There’s laughter and everyone’s
In a great mood.

But you aren’t there
Though you thought that you would be;
And you hope they know
You’d be there if you could be.

Sometimes things work out.
Other times they do not;
And what can you do?
Not a hell of a lot.

So you sit and imagine
The fun and you mope.
Other parties will come –
At least, that’s what you hope.

One Minute

It only takes a minute
For everything to change.
No matter how you spin it,
Life is often very strange.

One minute you are feeling well,
The next one you are sick.
You can’t predict, for who can tell
What makes a body tick?

One minute you are home and fine,
The next in the E.R.
So quickly do you cross the line,
It almost seems bizarre.

One minute you’re alive and sharp,
The next one you are dead
And brandishing a little harp,
A halo at your head.

I don’t believe in angels, though,
But I sure understand
That one minute is enough to know
That things don’t go as planned.

It only takes a minute
For your dreams to go awry;
And no matter how you skin it,
You can kiss those hopes goodbye.

Keeping Score

Remember going bowling
And the scoresheets that we used?
If there were lots of strikes and spares,
The scorer got confused.

We’d boldly mark those X’s
And accentuate each slash;
But that was long ago –
Those years have vanished in a flash.

The modern bowling alley
Has no paper for your score.
Computers keep the tally;
No one figures anymore.

Each knocked-down pin is noted
On the huge bright lit-up screen.
Automatic calculations
Let your total score be seen.

Every strike or spare’s acknowledged
With a pulsing slash or X.
Eyes all swivel to the graphics
Just to witness these effects.

Keeping score today is easy.
That much I can understand;
But a part of me still misses
When we did it all by hand.

The Arrows

My son plays pool;
My daughter sings.
We all must do
What gives us wings.

We find our niche
And take our place.
It’s where we each
Create our space.

If others notice,
That’s real nice.
If not, self-judgment
Will suffice.

For if we’re off,
We practice more;
And when we’re on
We’re free to soar.

We all must seek
Our path to climb.
For me, the arrows
Point to rhyme.

Property Of

My pencil has engraved on it,
To last for its duration,
“Property of New York City
Board of Education.”

So it seems the pencil’s purloined,
In which case I am the thief;
Though I don’t think its loss
Has generated any grief.

For items that we own and mark
To be identified
Remain that way until they are
No longer by our side.

Then other folks possess them,
Which of course they will not mention.
It doesn’t matter if the theft
Was really their intention.

A marker only goes so far
To guarantee your claim.
For once it’s gone, it hardly counts
That it still boasts your name.

Politics

You really can’t talk politics
With one you don’t know well;
For how a person thinks
Just by his looks, you cannot tell.

Conservatives or Democrats
May outwardly appear
Quite similar, but pretty soon
Their differences come clear.

Discussing the elections
I choose every word with care.
Unless you know your audience,
That’s all that one should dare.

I read the news and follow
As the candidates campaign.
To me, a few of them
Are on the wrong side of insane.

Their speeches take my breath away - 
I can’t believe the quotes;
But then in certain primaries,
They’ll surge ahead with votes.

It’s fine if you commiserate
With someone who’s a friend.
A casual acquaintance, though,
You’ll find you may offend.

So if your conversation
Turns political, watch out.
Curtail your comments if your partner’s
Views may be in doubt.

Relationships may end
With one opinion, just a smidgen;
And by the way, it’s even worse
To talk about religion!