Not Worth Repeating

It’s years since I’ve been writing poems

So, searching for a topic,

I sometimes might repeat myself,

The outcome quite myopic.

 

Of course, there are some subjects that

Require repetition

And when I write, I needn’t ask

For anyone’s permission.

 

Yet on occasion, what I’ve penned

Is destined for the shredder,

For there’s a poem – same theme, but older,

That’s a whole lot better!

Where is Rico?

An online buddy disappears

And there’s no way to find him.

He’s simply vanished, leaving

All his published poems behind him.

 

In other cases, people left

But it took me a while

To notice they were gone;

A daily poem was not their style.

 

When someone who won’t miss a day

And comments with affection

Just stops his posts, my mind goes

In a worrisome direction.

Vacuum-Packed

To save on space and shipping costs

When packages are stacked,

So many items nowadays

Are sent out vacuum-packed.

 

My daughter’s teddy bear arrived,

All squished up in a ball.

You’d never guess that it could be

A teddy bear at all.

 

Yet once we managed (it was tough!)

To help the bear get out

From all his plastic, he puffed up

(Despite my nagging doubt).

 

The modern world has different ways

To send out what we need.

If we could vacuum-pack ourselves,

The airlines would take heed.

The Chuppah

A chuppah is a canopy

Beneath which couples wed.

It could be made of cloth, a shawl

Or flower boughs instead.

 

Tradition called for chuppahs

To be held up, using poles,

With relatives or friends assigned

The chuppah-holding roles.

 

When I got married, years ago,

But on this very date,

My brothers, cousin and my husband’s

Brother filled the slate.

 

The cloth was velvet with the star

Of David center-placed.

We stood beneath it, said our vows,

Sipped wine and then embraced.

 

I don’t know whence the chuppah came -

Perhaps the rabbi’s stash –

But it’s a symbol I recall

Just like the glass’s smash.*

 

Our wedding was a small one

But the chuppah played its part

To ensure our matrimony

Had a customary start.

 

*In Jewish weddings, the groom stomps

on a cloth-covered glass right after the

ceremony.

Gifts from Afar

When someone who’s away returns

And brings a little gift,

No matter what it is, it’s sure

To give your heart a lift.

 

For just to know you crossed his mind’s

Enough to make you smile,

But a souvenir is lovely,

Even more when it’s your style.

 

So my new umbrella’s ready

For when rain is on the way

And my sheep with shamrock’s hanging

Where I’ll see it every day.

 

Since these gifts were from my son

They really filled me with delight,

With the added affirmation

That I sure did something right!

Old Photo Albums

Old photo albums give a glimpse

Of how we used to look.

We try to gauge our happiness

From pictures that we took.

 

Some snapshots catch us laughing,

Maybe in a silly pose,

Or with clothes and hair so retro

We’re surprised that’s what we chose.

 

There’s a sadness, too, in pages

Where the posers, filled with mirth,

Are a stark reminder life is short

Since they’ve now left the earth.

 

Still, I love to scan the faces

And remember each event

When we couldn’t ever picture

All the people we’d lament.

T-Day Meal, Fresh Caught

On my morning walk, I saw a hawk

Crash down and pin a dove.

Its steely gaze inspired its blaze

Of speed from up above.

 

A moment’s pause, with bird in claws,

Allowed a closer look,

Then off it flew and left my view,

Its meal not meant to cook.

 

It’s Nature’s way that some are prey

And those with higher ranks

Will get to feast; for that, at least,

We offer up our thanks.