Cousins

Most have several, others dozens
But it's nice to have some cousins.
Unlike siblings, who may fight,
Cousins get along all right.

With connections formed when young,
Cousins count as those among
The people who go way way back
And know your strengths or what you lack. 

Of course, some cousins grow apart
Or never let a friendship start 
But if you're lucky, you may find
Support from years you've left behind.

For cousins can remind us how
We used to be, compared to now.

Milkshake

A malted made without the malt
You may think a mistake,
But take a sip - it still tastes great
Though now it's called a shake.

A real one, though, comes with a tin
Directly from the shaker,
A second glass-worth sitting there,
A present from the maker.

You slurp it down, so cool and sweet
And when your straw hits air,
You pour a refill from the tin,
So calmly waiting there.

There's nothing like a milkshake
When you're really in the mood -
A splurge, a treat, a pure delight 
And better than most food!

Que Sera, Sera

My aunt was laid to rest today
With eulogies and rain.
Her children wept and shoveled dirt
In disbelief and pain.

Her life was long and full and rich;
She clearly was adored,
With all of those attending,
Admiration-wise, on board.

My aunt loved "Que sera, sera"
And someone sang it out.
We all joined in, accepting what
That song is all about.

A funeral's an ending
But reminds us we should see
That the future proves the chorus -
What will be will surely be.

Absorbing

You don’t consume a second meal
Before the first’s digested.
Your senses need some time to sort
The tastes you’ve just invested.

The same holds true for things you see
Or places where you travel.
Experience requires time
To stick, or might unravel.

When news is gotten, good or bad,
It takes a little while
To seep inside and be absorbed
In your specific style.

You cannot rush the process;
It may sometimes be quite slow,
But bombarding of the body
Or the mind’s not how to go.

Aunt Helen

My parents never took me
To a concert or a show.
The city wasn’t where they ever
Felt the need to go.

But luckily, I was exposed
To things that did enchant.
For that I owe a debt
To the umbrella of my aunt.

As metaphor, she took me in
And underneath her wing,
She opened up the world to me,
The joy that it could bring.

The Philharmonic, Broadway shows,
Hot chocolate made from scratch;
The special times I spent with her
Nobody else could match.

The other meaning’s literal –
For just like Cinderella,
I felt transformed as I would twirl
My very first umbrella.

It was my favorite gift from her –
Emblazoned with my name;
There haven’t been too many since
That made me feel the same.

Aunt Helen will be laid to rest
But she will always be
A person who knew just the way
To reach the soul of me.

I Gaze Inside

I gaze inside myself and see
One who once was twenty-three,
With all of life stretched out ahead
And no idea where she’d be led.

That person still exists inside.
Her presence cannot be denied;
But much of life is now behind
And strange to say, I do not mind.

Little Bird

Little bird with pretty song,
Sorry, but I think it’s wrong
For you to sing your tune so sweet,
‘Cause 2 a.m.’s no time to tweet!