Mosquito Bites

I must be really sweet because

Mosquitoes seek me out.

The same’s not true for bees, whose stings

I’ll gladly do without.

 

I rarely see the biter

But of course, I feel the itch

Which sometimes lasts a week or more,

Another aging glitch.

 

A skeeter bite annoys me.

As a nuisance, none can match it

Though there’s great relief in doing

What I shouldn’t, which is scratch it!

Today is D-Day

Today is D-Day, once a date

Evocative of war

When Allied troops invaded France

In 1944.

 

By land and sea and air, the soldiers

Stormed the Nazis’ hold

In Normandy, an operation

Sneaky, smart and bold.

 

Commemorated in the past,

Historically germane,

To younger folk, its meaning

Would need someone to explain.

 

As years go by, the stories fade

And though they might be taught,

We cannot bring to relevance

The wars and battles fought.

When It Rains, It Pours

“When it rains, it pours”

Often turns out true 

For one thing gone wrong

Sometimes starts a slew.

So an E.R. trip,

Which would be enough,

Then a tire near flat

Leads to other stuff.

Like no transport home

From a birthday meet

Since the E.R. car

Had the booster seat.

Frantic texts and calls

‘Til things got resolved 

But the story then

Gets much more involved.

‘Cross the ocean, flights

Somehow get delayed.

Then a phone gets lost,

Leaving all dismayed.

But the downpour stops

And the sun comes out.

All the ups and downs

Are what life’s about.

Skin Deep

I do not like the skin I’m in -

It’s dotted, dry and wrinkled,

Like paper with a reject poem -

Once smooth, now sadly crinkled.

Each little tap becomes a bruise,

A purple blotch, attesting

To all the years I’ve spent on earth,

A dermal-type divesting.

Some freckles not here yesterday

Have multiplied and scattered.

They would have bothered me much more 

When my appearance mattered.

What troubles me some others might

Find trite and almost risible.

I should let go, for at my age

To others I’m invisible.

Walkover

The match was so exciting,

No one clearly in the lead.

Though Rafa won a tiebreak,

Nothing else was guaranteed.

The second set had started,

Rafa sweating in the heat.

While playing on his birthday,

He would not accept defeat.

Approaching six games all,

Another tiebreak on the rise,

His opponent turned his ankle

And fell down before our eyes.

His pain appeared enormous;

He was helped to leave the court

In a wheelchair, as he realized

All his hopes had come up short.

So Nadal is in the finals;

He “walked over,” as they say.

Not one soul, including Rafa,

Wished for it to end that way.

*French Open Semi-Final

Rafael (Rafa) Nadal vs. Alexander Zverev

No Yacht for Me

Of all the things I haven’t got

The one I wouldn’t want’s a yacht,

For though most folks would be impressed,

I’d always have to look my best.

 

The details would just overwhelm –

The crew, the fuel, who’s at the helm;

The food, décor and where to sail,

All planned on a most lavish scale.

 

Decisions made to scratch each itch,

A consequence of being rich.

I do love water close at hand,

But from my viewpoint on the land.

Another Ilene

My first appointment for P.T.

(To help my torn-meniscus knee)

Had me arriving at the same

Time as another with my name.

 

She entered with a loud complaint –

The elevator was too quaint

And so she’d walked a flight of stairs,

But locked doors caught her unawares.

 

Annoyed at forms for filling out,

“I need a pen!” she then did shout.

I quietly observed the scene,

Then stood when someone called, “Ilene!”

 

“But I’m Ilene!” she did insist.

She glared at me, a little pissed.

The clerk, though, took it all in stride.

“You’re both Ilenes,” she clarified.

 

Our name’s not often spelled with “I.”

I’m sure, like me, she wondered why

Coincidence or maybe fate

Brought us together on this date.