Round and Round

I hate that little circle
That goes round and round and round.
Impatiently I stare at it
'Til what it seeks is found.

And what exactly does it seek?
A signal from the air?
Permission from the carrier
To show me what is there?

There must be some sadistic dude
Who's pulling all the strings
And laughing at my plight
With the frustration that it brings.

The internet, when working,
Has the world at its command
But its slowness to connect
I simply cannot understand.

Italian Ices

A friend in the hospital
Made a request
When the topic of
What I could bring was addressed.

Just a few blocks away
There’s a stand that sells ices,
Both water and crème-style;
Each flavor entices.

The weather was hot
And it started to rain
But I made it to Ralph’s;
I’d not visit in vain.

With two scoops in the dish
That my friend likes to get,
I walked quickly so they
Wouldn’t melt or get wet.

Though the bag fell apart,
I accomplished my goal
As my friend ate the ices
I hoped would console.

Such a small thing for me,
The most easy of chores
But a mountain for someone
Who’s stranded indoors.

Hamilton, the Play

All the buzz is justified;
If I’d said different, I’d’a lied.
A slice of history unfurled
Like nothing else that’s in the world.

Lin-Manuel Miranda wrote
The lyrics, book and every note
Of music, all in hip-hop time
With such creative, perfect rhyme.

For everyone who has the chance,
Go see it, for it will enhance
Your theater props, with bragging rights
(And more if you’ve seen “In the Heights”*).

*Lin-Manuel Miranda’s previous play

Comfortable

My mother wore a duster
(Or a housedress) ‘round the house,
Which was once the garb of women
(Even lacking kids or spouse).

It was likely made of cotton
In a shift-style meant for ease,
Much more comfortable for housework
Than a pair of dungarees.

I’m not sure if stores still sell them
But the reasoning was right,
For when I’m at home I’m wearing
Clothes the opposite of tight.

They may be quite old and baggy
But they’re just the togs for me
Since the most important rule of home
Is comfort is the key.

Laughter

Laughter is a balm to soothe
Whatever makes you ache
And those who would reject that thought
Are making a mistake.

Just spend an afternoon or eve
With friends from long ago
And reminisce until the giggles
Start to overflow.

For when you’re caught up having fun
The bad stuff slinks away,
Afraid to tamper with the joy
On obvious display.

If only we could bottle up
Those laughs for future use,
Then all the sadness lurking ‘round
Perhaps we could reduce.

The Spread of Queen Anne's Lace

A weed that’s known as Queen Anne’s Lace
Is here and there and everyplace –
Along the highway, in the fields,
Deaf to every sneeze it yields.

Tall and straggly, it’s beguiled
Flies and bugs where it grows wild,
Lured not by its scent outstanding
But its flat top, great for landing.

Humans, though, don’t like it much
For like dandelions and such,
Its profusion proves, indeed,
That it’s just a lowly weed.

Oft, I rush to weeds’ defense;
This time, though, I’m on the fence
For swaths of land might lose the race
Against the spread of Queen Anne’s lace.

My Jangly Anklet

My jangly anklet's lined with bells
So you'll know when I'm near.
Its tinkly sound is one that I
Am happy when I hear.

It drives my husband crazy
And when I am in a crowd,
I slow my pace to keep the bells
From jingling too loud.

I do not wear it much 'cause feet-wise
Quiet is the norm
And I don't have the chutzpah*
To take neighborhoods by storm.

Yet when I'm in my comfort zone
Then one of life's true joys
Is jangling at every step
And grinning at the noise.

*nerve