The Restaurant

The restaurant was wonderful;

The food was well prepared. 

The atmosphere was cozy

And I liked the booth we shared.

The waiter, super-friendly,

Was attentive and the beer

Was a local IPA, which made

Me grin from ear to ear.

Yet glancing at the other diners,

What I noticed first

Was the fact that everyone was old

And what was interspersed 

At their tables were their walkers 

Or their wheelchairs or their canes.

Still, they ate and drank and laughed and maybe 

I can’t quite explain,

But it made me understand how life

In Florida is sold -

Not to get away from winter,

But to join your fellow old.

Group 6

The flight is full, so there’s no room

For everybody’s bags.

We need 3 dozen volunteers -

Come up; we’ve got the tags.

The first-class passengers are set,

As well as Comfort Plus,

But those in Groups 6,7,8 - 

You’re screwed - and that means us!

We didn’t buy the cheapest seats,

Yet still, we’re in a fix

Because our boarding pass revealed

That we are in Group 6.

We now need 20 people

To check baggage and what’s more,

By doing so, we’ll move you up

And you will join Group 4!

We waited with our bags until

A few of us remained

And yes, we stowed our bags up top, 

Despite what they’d maintained.

And by the way, 2 empty seats 

Are there across the aisle,

A challenge to the agents

Who might still be in denial.

Waxed Amaryllis

An acquaintance left my son a gift

In a bag outside his door,

An amaryllis plant in wax

I’ve never seen before.

Instructions say to let it sit 

In a well-lit room, but not

In sun that is direct; perhaps

It might get much too hot.

It needs no water, for the bulbs

Have nutrients within,

Plus all the moisture to ensure

That growth will soon begin.

In four to five weeks, stems will form,

Then one month later, buds,

Which will produce some lovely blooms

(Unless you’re stuck with duds).

A perfect gift for those of us 

Whose thumbs are far from green.

With zero effort, you can add

Some beauty to your scene.

Some Baking

Today I did some baking,

Though the holiday’s not yet,

But there is no mistaking

Rules that I will not forget.

 

Ingredients are measured

And utensils are at hand.

For this recipe I’ve treasured,

Everything must go as planned.

 

As I dust the dough with flour

And my rolling pin’s in play,

I lose track of time; each hour

Seems to slowly slip away.

 

These same cookie cutters used to

Be my grandma’s; now they’re mine

And I think she’d be amused to

See her recipe still shine.

 

I am only halfway finished

But I’m glad to take a break.

Though my skills have not diminished,

There’s a lot more left to bake.

False Positives

One was from a blood test;

One was from a scan.

Both caused much anxiety,

As bad news always can.

 

Follow-ups determined

There was no cause for concern,

Which has made me start to wonder,

Just what lesson can we learn?

 

To never trust a doctor

Or technician or result?

Or to not jump to conclusions

After yelling, “Oy gevalt!”?

 

Guess it serves as a reminder

That we cannot quite rely

On results which bring up death,

A truth we’d rather just deny.

Cover Story

My umbrella was wet,

So they gave me a bag.

A wet floor at the gym

Would be kind of a drag.

 

It was still coming down

When I left, so I tugged

My umbrella from where

In my bag it was snugged.

 

Once at home, it dried out,

But the cover was lost,

Leading me on a search

Of the streets I had crossed.

 

It was there on the walk,

Looking wet and forlorn,

But it didn’t look dirty

Or muddy or torn.

 

It’s now hanging to dry,

Reunited, I’m glad,

With my favorite umbrella

That I’ve ever had.

The New York Public Library

The New York Public Library’s

A lovely place to visit.

The main branch Beaux-Arts building

Is a landmark most exquisite.

 

In addition to its majesty,

Exhibits are displayed,

Which New Yorkers rarely think about

When plans are being made.

 

I don’t know why, for there are treasures

Waiting to be viewed.

In one case, there was Pooh Bear,

Where most children’s eyes were glued.

 

Charles Dickens’ writing table

And his calendar and chair,

Plus a baseball signed by Brooklyn Dodgers

All are set up there.

 

A special exhibition

Was the draw that lured us in,

Celebrating the New Yorker

And its hundred year-old spin.

 

And one final must-go reason –

There’s a gift shop worth a look.

You can spend the day enjoying all

And never touch a book.