AVA'S CONCERT

Last night I got to experience, for a grandparent, something cool

While watching Ava’s 1st grade concert at her Elementary School.

The acoustics weren’t the greatest and at times you could hear the microphone ring

But I swear there were moments in the evening when I heard the angels sing.

The children were all dressed as insects and pardon me if I’m a bit smug

But Ava, in my humble opinion, was the cutest ladybug.

I’m sure every parent and grandparent thought they had the cutest bugs or bees

Because pride is overflowing at concerts such as these.

1st graders might be fidgety, they pick their noses and forget their lines

But grandparents and parents look past the imperfections and only see the shine.

We may not understand what’s going on or hear the words to every song

But when each number’s over the applause is loud and long.

Yes, we smile, we clap, we laugh, we cry, we’re as joyous as can be

For we know this is their only 1st grade concert that we’ll ever see.

Life is about enjoying these moments from the time they are in the womb

And all along their path in life, like in an elementary school multi-purpose room.

I’ll remember yesterday as one of those moments, it’s to that memory I shall cling

When I got to hug a ladybug and hear the angels sing.

A LITTLE DRINK...A LITTLE DANCING

I don’t watch Dancing with the Stars, not that I think it’s a sham

I just don’t want to be constantly reminded of how uncoordinated I am.

I have tripped while walking in a straight line, tripped on many a curb

The thought that I could dance, let alone with a partner, seems totally absurd.

Consequently, growing up, my two left feet never led to any romancing

But I found if you flailed your arms and moved your hips--people called that dancing.

If that didn’t work, if I couldn’t feel the beat, even though my heart was filled with dread

I’d walk out onto the dance floor, stand in one place and, like a chicken, bob my head.

I prayed no one was watching me and secretly hoped no one cared

If they did I knew they’d be sending me to a home for the rhythmically impaired.

Mercifully high school and college ended and I never got sent away

The only time I’ve danced since then was on my wedding day.

But I hadn’t improved in the ensuing years so when they finally played our song

I held on tight, rocked back and forth and wondered why it ran on so long.

*Note to wedding DJ’s: 

Unless the bride and groom are Fred and Ginger and you don’t want the groom to curse.

Do everyone a favor...stop the wedding dance after one verse.

As I’ve watched people dancing through the years, here’s what I’ve been thinking

The people who do most of the dancing are the ones who have been drinking.

Could there be a correlation here? I believe my observations are true.

Not only do I dance better when people drink, I look much handsomer too.

Knowing this, perhaps I’ll dance again, maybe I’ll be on Dancing with the Stars

If I do I’ll put one stipulation in my contract...there must be an open bar.

If that’s the case, if a little drinking with my dancing makes the world rejoice

Who knows the mountains I might climb...Hey! I could audition for The Voice!

BY GEORGE!

I love my new job in the bookstore...so many people every day do I greet.

Each person who walks through the door is a surprise, you never know who you might meet.

Yesterday a man entered; he was older and, like me, hadn’t much hair on his head

“My name’s George.” He said shaking my hand, “I’m Jim, nice to meet you.” I said.

George went on to say he’s an old book collector; he’s collected them all of his life.

But it’s time to let go of his collection and spend some quality time with his wife.

He was looking to find a new resting place for his books and after perusing all of our tomes

He decided our store was indeed the best venue to give his old books a new home. 

“About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer.” He said and immediately my vision blurred.

It took a few seconds till I regained my composure...inoperable was the next word that I heard.

“At that time I was given 6 months to live.” He continued, “And although that’s not very long.

Here I am standing before you today and, dammit, I’m still going strong.”

Did I think we would want his books he asked, since he didn’t need them anymore?

He thought his babies, as he called them, would be happy resting on the shelves of our store.

If it was up to me I would have gladly said yes and every book in his collection I’d take.

But I told him he needed to speak to the owner as it was not my decision to make.

“I‘ll do that.” He nodded looking around, “But can I stay awhile?” He asked hopefully.

“Of course.” I said and in between customers he continued talking to me.

We talked about his books, his family, his cancer...an hour passed in the blink of an eye.

It was nice to meet you Jim he said shaking my hand and I agreed as we said goodbye.

Will I see George again, or view his collection?  In our ephemeral world I can’t say

But I had to smile and thank God I was working as our two paths crossed yesterday.

That’s what’s wonderful about working with people...so many of them do you greet

But every now and then, if you’re lucky, By George! some you actually meet.

THE BRAVERY OF IMMACULLE

I just finished a sadly wonderful book about a women who went through hell

When she survived the genocide in Rwanda...it’s entitled Left To Tell.

Her name is Immaculee Ilibagiza, she survived while those around her fell

Including her mother, father and two brothers making her the one left to tell.

It’s a story of faith and endurance, how in the midst of this massacre she survived

While outside, along with her family, 800,000 men, women and children died.

They died because they were Tutsi which meant in Rwanda they hadn’t much worth

As the Hutus made it their mission to wipe Tutsis off the face of this Earth.

The women were raped; the men and children were mocked, spit on and then beat.

All of them shot or hacked up with machetes then left to rot in the street.

No Tutsi was safe; all were hunted down while being called cockroaches and snakes

All brutally and impassively murdered...no time for proper funerals or wakes.

This story is unimaginable in its horror, not only that so many people are gone

But that the rest of the world stood by callously and let this slaughter go on.

But the killing does not make this story amazing nor the fact that all of it’s true

It’s what Immacculee decided to do once all the killing was through.

When brought face to face with the man responsible for her family’s and so many deaths

Immaculee trembled, slowly walked up to him, then quietly took a deep breath.

If she was ever to live on after this carnage, she knew what she had to do

So she exhaled, stood up strong and proud and said to his face, I forgive you.

That’s not to say she wasn’t angry or wished her family’s life for his she could swap

But she knew forgiveness and forgiveness alone is the only way that the killing would stop.

An eye for an eye makes everyone blind, at least that’s what Gandhi would say

Oh how I wish we all had the courage to exhibit the bravery of Immaculee.

THE CIRCLES OF LIFE

Have you ever read a book to a child, perhaps before he or she takes a nap?

He picks out a book, brings it to you, then climbs upon your lap.

With your arms outstretched holding the book and your child safe and warm

You realize at that moment a perfect circle has formed.

A circle so intimate that for a short time no one else dare enter

For it is you who forms the circle with your child in the center. 

If our lives have been blessed we have all been the center of a circle just like this

It usually ends with a sigh and a smile...perhaps a little kiss.

Soon that child gets too large for our laps as they grow to be a woman or a man

And as parents and grandparents we find ourselves searching for circles wherever we can.

There are moments around the dinner table when you smile because you’re aware

As you scan from face to face that the circle you search for is there.

There are moments around a campfire where laughter is the norm

While kneeling down toasting a marshmallow you feel the warmth of that circle form.

You find these circles in instants, you never know where they might be.

You try to capture them inside your heart and imprint them on your memory.

How many circles have formed in your life? How many in your life can you see?

For something magical happens within these circles of friends and family.

What got me to thinking about circles? What sent this poem on it’s way?

Is that our oldest grandson, Damien, turns 17 today.

I wonder if he remembers the circles we formed while he sat upon my knee

And wherever he goes I hope he knows he can always circle back to me.

Yes, that is the beauty of the circles we create amidst family and friends

Once they’re formed, they are unbreakable...for a circle never ends.

YESTERDAY WAS A GOOD DAY

Time is a funny thing...We live in fleeting moments that quickly drift away

But even amidst this evanescence...yesterday was a good day.

Besides the normal pleasant news that our children and grandchildren are doing well 

There was other joyous news on which I’d like to dwell.

It began with a Happy Birthday wish sent up north to a friend of mine

Wondering if she would celebrate as his her tradition...with bottles of her favorite wine.

Next friends of ours had a baby! They entered the hospital in the early morn

And after hours of anticipation announced...their baby Sofia was born.

Finally, Deborah heard some news that added to the pleasure of the day

One of her friends is pregnant, yes, there’s a baby on the way.

Our lives are filled with happiness we all know this to be true...

Somedays you don’t have to look very far as that happiness finds you.

On the same day, separated by time, two babies born and another on the way

You have to admit amidst the evanescence...yesterday was a very good day.

But yesterday is over, those wonderful moments are gone...yes, time is a funny thing,

Which is why I approach today with excitement in search of the wonders it will bring.

GUARDIAN ANGELS

I believe that luck surrounds us as we journey along life’s path

Sometimes we experience her joy, sometimes we feel her wrath.

None of us are immune to her visits shell bring us pleasure as well as pain

The best we can do is savor the sunshine and find ways to dance the rain.

Yesterday morning I went out to my car with the sun shining bright overhead

But when I turned the key in the ignition...nothing happened...the battery was dead.

What rotten luck I thought to myself what a bad way to start my day

Then I realized it’s not all that bad, at least I have triple A.

In the last month we lent both Bryan and Ryan my car, we’re retired and my car’s the spare.

I’m glad while they were driving all over town the battery didn’t die in their care.

I’m reminded when Whitman, our golden, passed away, he made it to the mountains one last time

When the grandchildren visited, even in his weakened state, up the stairs he would climb.

Yes, his last summer with us you might say our Whitman put on quite a grand show

And it wasn’t until after the grandchildren left that he relaxed and decided to go.

Could it be that, although not always successful, good luck tries its best to assure

That she is always there to minimize any bad luck we’re destined to endure?

I like to think we have guardian angels who ride on our shoulders in good times and sing...

But when times get tough and bad luck looms they let us ride on their wings.

Guardian angels who take the bad luck we have and somehow turn them into rhymes...

How else can you explain a battery and a golden retriever dying at the best of all possible times?

IF YOUR HEART IS LOVED...

This is a simple little poem with a simple message you’ll agree

If your heart is loved and loves another you have perfect symmetry.

Many people are in such a hurry the true beauty of life is never found

But if your heart is loved and loves another...you see beauty all around.

Many people think they must deal with troubles on their own

But if your heart is loved and loves another you’ll never be alone.

Many people go through their day searching for riches...wanting more

But if your heart is loved and loves another...you never will be poor.

Many people look beyond what they have and make wishes on moonbeams

But if your heart is loved and loves another your reality exceeds your dreams.

It’s a simple concept but therein lies it’s beauty I concede.

If your heart is loved and loves another you have everything you need.

RENE LAENNEC

Today we celebrate the birthday of Rene Laeneec who gave the medical world hope

When back in 1816 he invented the stethoscope.

This imaginative device Rene created was really pretty smart

It allowed doctors to listen for abnormalities in the lungs and in the heart.

But there’s another fact I find interesting about his ingenious little invention 

It had nothing to do with the device itself but deals with Rene’s intention.

He felt it inappropriate, at least my information suggests,

To place his naked ear so close to his female patients breasts.

So thank you Mr. Laeneec for inventing what would become the symbol of your profession

And please forgive me, if you will, my unqualified confession.

In creating the stethoscope and making yourself the chesty woman’s proctor

You took away my only reason for wanting to be a doctor.

LOVE & MONEY

Two days ago a man burst into the bookstore and he looked a little miffed

He said, “Valentine’s Day is close and I need to buy my wife gift.”

“She’s and artist,” he said shaking his head, “I don’t care for art myself.”

So I pointed him to the Art books and he grabbed one off the shelf.

“This will do just fine.” He said. “My Valentine shopping’s done.”

Then he tossed the money on the counter and said, “I’ve got to run.”

I guess he thought in the end she’d be happy with the thought

And he wouldn’t be in the dog house for saying...I forgot.

As he reached the door I wanted to stop him. I wanted to shout, “Hey you

Instead of buying a book she might not want just tell her...I love you.”

I wanted to show him the error of his ways, to his good sense I wanted to appeal

I wanted to tell him there are so many better ways to tell her how you feel.

You can say it simply with your eyes or a card that’s filled with art

You can give her Hershey’s kisses or those cute little candy hearts.

You can write her a simple poem like Roses are red, Violet’s are blue

Just wanted you to know that every day I re-fall in love with you.

You can say it with a dozen roses or a giant chocolate heart

You can give her a piece of jewelry that says you never want to part...

That’s what I wanted to say but I didn’t...after all this bookstore has to survive

And that art book he pulled off the shelf sold for $24.95.

CHILDREN, WHAT'S YOUR HURRY?

This goes out to the children of the world who can’t wait to grow up and drive a car

Or wear make-up, or act so much older than the child you truly are.

It’s one of fate’s ironic twists that children can’t wait to join man or womankind

While as adults we keep searching for the child we left behind.

As children we only have a few worries...we live a life of relative ease.

As adults we are saddled with the burdens of life and its responsibilities.

Oh adulthood has its wonders and its magic as many of you may surmise

but each step of childhood is to be savored...you’ll be an adult before you realize.

Children there’s something you should know...once you do become women or men

You never get the chance to go back and revisit your childhood again.

Once you leave your childhood in the past you might feel older, wiser and stronger

But you’ll look back on those innocent days and wish you’d have lingered there longer.

So before adulthood is upon you, before you become that older woman or man

I suggest you relish your youth and enjoy being a child as long as you possibly can.

Perhaps one of the worst things that could happen when the sands of time have gathered upon your shore

Would be to sit back and ponder this question, What was I in such a hurry for?

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY

The heart is a wonderful organ, how often have we heard it said,

It’s such a vital part of us without it we’d be dead.

Four weeks after conception, well before we officially arrive

It begins to beat and doesn’t stop until we’re no longer alive.

The heart has a magical capacity for love...as everybody knows

The more it loves and is loved the stronger that it grows

Our brain is used for knowledge but its our heart that guides the way?

In fact, it is so important it has it’s ver own holiday?

Valentine’s Day is a day that has set itself apart 

As the only holiday we have that celebrates the heart.

A heart that nurtures us while dancing an energetic but delicate ballet

A heart that must be treated with kindness not just today but every day

Perhaps there is a lesson here for all of us to see

For even though the heart is strong it can be broken easily.

I think a fitting epitaph for any of us when we depart

Would be that we were gentle with other people’s hearts.

So be gentle with each other’s heart today, celebrate with candy, flowers or a kiss

And remember this whole thing started with an organ no bigger than your fist.

WHERE DOES BEAUTY COME FROM?

How does one know what is beautiful? What sets our senses aglow?

Take women of the world for instance the ideal beauty depends on where you go.

How many new parents, at the viewing window naturally assume

That their baby is the most beautiful baby of all the babies in that room?

There are some panoramas we regard that create universal admiration

But even those at times are open to interpretation.

The sun rising over the mountains or setting beneath the sea,

A rainbow arching across the sky a songbird in a weeping willow tree.

There’s beauty in a smile, in a secluded walk along the sand

In a lover’s glance, a moonlit night or in the wrinkles on a baby’s hand.

Each person knows what beauty looks like but how do you surmise

Helen Keller was able to see beauty without the use of her eyes.

There are some who believe there is beauty in all things, you can find it everywhere

And the magic in life is discovering the beauty that’s already there.

These people would be considered scholars, they were both intelligent and wise

They knew the beauty that’s in front of us is best viewed from behind our eyes.

GOOD BYE SHIRLEY!

Her name was Shirley Temple, in the 1930’s she burst upon the scene

She was young and cute and sweet as punch and she lit up the movie screen.

My generation remembers watching her movies when we were girls and boys

As she danced and sang and her curly hair bobbed it filled our hearts with joy.

We loved to watch her escapades, we never knew what we might see 

But whatever predicaments she found herself in, they were always rated G.

Did you hear that Miley Cyrus? She too was a child star who worked

But her tongue was used for singing and I know she never twerked!

She was young and cute and wholesome...a pint-sized sized protege

But she could hold her own with movie stars of her day.

The little girl we all loved to watch grew up...as we all do

And when she died Monday in California a little of our childhood died too.

Friends drank Shirley Temples to remember the passing of this star 

Deborah and I broke out our Curly Top VHS and cranked up the VCR.

So farewell Poor Little Rich Girl, thank you for giving us such a thrill

Will we miss you Little Princess?...Shirley...we surely will!

ROUTINES

It’s a funny thing about routines, at times they can cause us despair...

But it’s also easy to fall into them and find some comfort there.

I for one love the routines in my life, I don’t find them dull...and once more

It’s the very routines that over the years have become the traditions I adore.

Waking up next to Deborah every morning, walking together at first light

Solving a crossword, sharing meals then back in bed at night.

Rocking babies, doing homework, driving children wherever they needed to go,

Vacations in North Carolina every summer, and that one winter seeing snow.

Watching the grandchildren play soccer all those early Saturdays

The family getting together for dinners, birthdays and holidays.

Putting up a real tree each Christmas, helping children and grandchildren believe

Opening presents and eating pizza is our routine Christmas Eve.

Routines may not seem sexy or breathtaking or romantic at first glance

But I believe they are...if we give them half a chance.

What if we viewed the routines in our life more like the pages of a book

And instead of dismissing them as mundane we took a closer look.

For I believe it’s in our daily routines where living and life coincide

And where, if we are lucky, our joy and happiness reside.

THE BEAUTY OF BOOKS

I’m working in a bookstore now and having a wonderful time.

In fact it was there while awaiting customers I wrote this daily rhyme.

When I had finished a simple question suddenly occurred to me

Do I write the poems I want to...or do the poems find their way to me?

When I was but a little boy sitting atop my mother’s knee

The world became a magical place when she would read to me.

So many things I learned because she took the time to look

And share with me the wonders inside the pages of a book.

I learned a cow can jump over the moon and blind mice can go on the loose.

I learned a seeing mouse can climb a clock and there’s a lady names Mother Goose.

I learned of a boy who cried wolf and all the trouble that followed him

I learned about 3 pigs and a real wolf and of the scary brothers Grimm.

I leaned a monkey can be curious and the need for heroes will never end

I learned to say good night to the moon and a spider and a pig can be friends.

Then the day came to leave my mother’s knee and I started reading on my own.

And through the pages of more books...oh the places I have flown.

I’ve have been around the world, I’ve traveled through time and space

I’ve been inside so many buildings and I’ve never left a trace.

I have my mom to thank for starting me reading all those years ago

And I thank her each time I open a new book as I wonder where I might go.

So parents remember it’s never too early...in books a magical world awaits

And for the rest of you might like to know...it’s also never too late.

I know what you’re thinking...next time I should not my responsibilities shirk

And instead of writing poetry...perhaps I should get to work.

FREEDOMS

We are blessed with many freedoms in America, we should count them every day

Because in many countries of the world these freedoms have been stripped away.

We are free to choose our leaders and though they often cause us shame

In the end because we’re free to choose we only have ourselves to blame.

The press is free to report the news into our homes and haciendas

Yet it seems today the different news agencies have their own agendas.

We are free to worship any God or no God, win or loose

Yet we’re not as accepting of others if a different God they choose.

We are free to speak our minds and accept any consequences that may ensue

Yet we usually don’t like other people who hold different points of view.

We are free to bear arms across this land but the number of innocents afflicted 

Has caused many to feel uncertain and wonder if that right should be restricted.

I believe our freedoms, as wonderful as they are, have caused an unsolvable riddle

For it appears our freedom to choose has split this country down the middle.

It makes one wonder if these two sides will ever get along

While each side thinks that they are right and the other side is wrong.

Still these very freedoms we all fight about are the freedoms we adore

And what our soldiers, since this country began, have continued fighting for.

I think we should remember another freedom, yes I think it would be wise

If we all remember we also have been blessed with the freedom to compromise.

When we forego compromise, when we ignore this small detail

A country with the freedom to succeed becomes one doomed to fail.

To me freedom is a lot like love: it’s a gift and a blessing to be free

And like love, unless it’s nurtured...becomes a faded memory.

If we don’t want that to happen, then we must take this burden on

So our children will still be free to count their blessings after we are gone.

DIFFERENT OR UNIQUE?

There is a word in our language that, when we look upon our life

Is the reason the world has so much trouble, the cause of so much strife.

That word is DIFFERENT for how delightfully enjoyable and beautiful would our world be

If so many people didn’t look at one another and see them differently?

When we see someone as different fear seeps into our hearts and minds

And where there’s fear...animosity, hatred and prejudice cannot too far behind.

What starts out merely as a way to tell that person apart from you or me

Somehow ends up with people treating one another differently.

We end up in a word of labels, a world of discrimination, chaos and entropy

A world of injustice, oppression, of wars and bigotry. 

A world where suspicion and distrust rule and seeds of animosity are sown 

All caused when we find traits in people that are different from our own.

What if we all looked at one another in a completely different way

What if we could find a word that would keep our fear at bay.

What if we weren’t afraid of diversity but reveled in it’s mystique

And instead of seeing others as different, we saw them as unique.

Perhaps then, in each life, we might focus on the good things that we see

And in the end create a world of peace and harmony.

I imagine by now many of you are thinking this man is different, he’s a freak

Ah, but I suggest you not think me different, no I prefer the word unique?

(Did you notice when you call me different a host of negatives abound

But when you use the word unique...see how wonderful it sounds?)

It seems to me we should strive for a world where differences aren’t critiqued,

A world where people are more accepting...hmmm, now wouldn’t that be unique?

PROGRESS: THE PHONE

I find myself every now and then thinking of simpler times I’ve known

And I have to ask does anyone remember when a phone was just a phone?

Growing up we had one phone...one phone and that was all!

It could be found in the kitchen...hanging on the wall.

When you picked up the receiver you waited, it was part of the design

As you had to make sure your neighbor wasn’t on the party line.

You made your calls using a rotary dial, it was wonderfully slow,

And if you wanted privacy you’d stretch the cord as far as it would go.

I wonder how many children today would be utterly appalled

To know the telephone was once used for only making calls?

But that simple phone has changed; the seeds of progress have been sown.

It’s no longer just a device for calling others...it’s computer all it’s own.

Oh, it still make calls but the wall phone and that long stretchy cord are gone

Replaced by a phone that fits in my pocket, one I can buy at Amazon.

Now I can go anywhere without getting lost. Am I somehow directionally blessed?

Nope, my phone comes equipped with it’s own maps and a sexy voiced GPS.

I can now talk to my phone and what’s more she will even talk back.

She has access to Google and provides me with any information I might lack.

My phone is also a camera I can take a picture of a sunset or a babbling brook

And before you can say Instagram or Snapchat it’s in an e-mail or on Facebook.

I can play games, find coupons, look at Google Earth or access my daily planner

I can find constellations, Skype with Bryan and it even has a barcode scanner.

I can listen to music and if I’m not sure the exact name of a particular song

My phone not only tells me but gives me the words to sing along.

My phone can recommend restaurants, find me hotels or exotic resorts

I can watch the latest You Tube videos or get my news, weather and sports.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for the progress, one can truly make the case

That the new phone has changed our way of life and made the world a better place...

But that doesn’t stop me every now and then from falling into a kind of progress denial

When I long for days of that old twisted cord and the sound of the rotary dial.

RE-RENTING TIME

If you look at the word retirement and pull out T...I...M..E...TIME

Your left with two words that unexpectedly create a whole new paradigm.

Retirement means we’re done working, no more daily upward climb.

We actually get to slow down and in effect...we re-rent time.

Time we didn’t have before because there was so much else to do

Now slows down before us and allows us to enjoy the view.

Time which used to move so fast it was hard for us to see

Now floats by ever slowly and has become a luxury.

Yesterday Deborah and I took an early walk as the evening darkness ebbed.

We stopped to watch a little spider in the construction of his web.

He worked so fast and furiously until his web was through

And we left him with his finished product glistening in the morning dew.

We found ourselves stopping many times under many different trees

Because each one had a solitary beauty and unique symmetry.

We stopped at a bald eagle’s nest to give them our regards

And spotted the mother eagle up above it standing guard.

Suddenly the father swooped in with his talons full of food

And we watched as mother and father fed their hungry little brood.

It’s often the simple things along the way that make us stop and smile

And we realize it’s those little things that help make life worthwhile

All the more reason to love retirement for everyday I can find a rhyme 

In the little things Deborah and I do while we’re out there...re-renting time.

PLURALS

I’m glad I grew up speaking English because I think if I had to learn it

I’d have to take my English Rosetta Stone and angrily return it.

Take a simple matter like plurals, in English there’s no defense

Why some times certain rules apply and other times they make no sense.

Take a simple baseball stat...RBI stands for run or runs batted in

And for sports fans this us usually where the problem first begins.

If Tommy batted in 1 or two or 10 runs much to our surprise

We would say he had 1 or 2 or 10 RBI, not the incorrect RBI’s.

And if Tommy ever asks you, you can tell him the reason why...

The plural is in the R at the beginning not in the ending I.

Look at the word hippopotamus, there is no one rule that applies

We can say there are 2 hippopotamuses or use the acceptable hippopotami.

Just when we think we have the rule mastered, it’s octopuses or octopi

We find out the plural of radius can never be radiuses, it’s always radii.

What about the word sheep? The plural is sheep not sheeps,

But the word creep doesn’t follow that rule because the plural of creep is creeps.

And don’t get me started on goggles and pants--aways plural-no reason or rhyme

It’s enough to give me the jitters or heebie-jeebies...also plural all of the time!

The plural of moose is moose but the plural of goose is geese

So why is the plural of mongoose mongooses? Why can’t we call them mongeese?

Everyone knows the plural of mouse is mice and the plural of louse is lice

But why does Deborah have blouses in our closet, shouldn’t we be calling them blice?

I can’t go on, I’m feeling clammy, and if you too feel you’re going to wheeze

Then it appears we all have the same neurosis, is it neuroses or neurosisees?

Whatever, it is it’s plain to see our English is made up of many crazy words

Just ask one goose and his two geese friends, they’ll tell you plurals are for the birds.

Yes, I’m glad I already speak English, if not I might very unmercifully

Take out pair of scissors, (is that two scissors?), and cut out every plural I see.

KAFKA WHO?

I started a new job in a bookstore, an Antiquarian bookstore to be exact

This means there are very old and used books sprinkled throughout our stacks.

I love books and I like to read but I wouldn’t consider myself well-read

When I was working I was lucky to finish a page or two once my body hit the bed.

Still I I like Arthur Conan Doyle’s smarts and a good Shakespearean tragedy

And I’ve always thought Harlan Coben writes a wonderful mystery.

I haven’t read many of the classics I wouldn’t know Salinger from Dostoyevsky

But still, I am a reader, I simply like to read books that appeal to me.

“Shakespeare.” I said yesterday when a young woman asked what author I like to read.

“Shakespeare!” she sneered, “That’s a safe choice” as the man who came with her agreed.

“I also like Arthur Conan Doyle,” I retorted “his Sherlock Holmes sure was a whiz...”

“Another safe call she interrupted.” It’s obvious I was flunking her quiz. 

Have you ever read Kafka she inquired, wondering if I was at all evolved

“Kafka who?” I paused as I thought for a second. “How many crimes has he solved?”

She smirked as I rang up The Metamorphosis then quickly went on her way

I thanked her as she reached the doorway and bid her to have a nice day.

I thought about her for a moment as down the street she and her boyfriend strolled.

Kafka said if a person keeps the ability to see beauty then that person never grows old.

For he knew that finding beauty is important in this world in which we all delve

But he also knew it’s important to let others find beauty for themselves.

I hope the ability to find beauty will someday ride happily on that woman’s shoulders

Because to my eyes as she walked out of the store she seemed just a little bit older.

Oh I may someday pick up Kafka myself but it won’t be to make someone feel small.

Who knows, he writes such nice things about beauty, maybe he fights crime after all.

WHAT'S WRONG WITH SATURDAY?

The Romans called it Saturn’s Day as a salute and it was their special way

To honor the God whom they believed controlled the first hour of every day.

Of course the English put their own spin on it stripping the linguistic beauty away

Although still with a nod to Saturn, we called it Saturday.

Saturday is a wonderful day, it’s the start of many a weekend

A time to rest and relax and spend time with family and friends.

Saturday is followed by Sunday, and so has that nice little perk

Unlike the day after Sunday when most people go back to work.

So why then is the Super Bowl played on a Sunday? It has always made me groan

What does the NFL have against us, I mean isn’t Monday bad enough on it’s own?

Oh it’s not only the NFL, look at college football, and all those fun award shows

With Saturday so readily available why is Sunday the day that they chose?

What if the Super Bowl played on a Saturday with Sunday to rest lazily...

I’m not a big NFL executive but is seems pretty logical to me?

So here’s one vote for the God Saturn, Super Bowl Saturday don’t you agree

Has a nice ring to it and more importantly is one game I’d stay up to see.

Or you can keep your Superbowl Sundays and hold them in cold weather climes

With any luck like Super Bowl 48, the game will be done by halftime.

HAPPY GROUNDHOG DAY

I love the pageantry of Groundhog Day, I hope I always will

From Gobbler’s Knob, to those great top hats, to Punxsutawney Phil.

Did you know the German’s brought this tradition with them with one slight contradiction

In Europe they looked to hedgehogs for their end of winter prediction.

But they couldn’t find hedgehogs in Pennsylvania and didn’t know what to do

Until they noticed groundhogs were abundant and said, ‘Hey, I guess they’ll do’. 

Since 1886 America has turned to Punxsutawney to celebrate Groundhog Day

To see if we’re in for 6 more weeks of winter or if spring is on the way.

For if the groundhog sees his shadow then he knows winter will take its toll

And the furry little fellow heads back into his hole.

If he doesn’t see his shadow as he exits his little mound

An early spring is coming and he stays above the ground.

Thousands of people gather in Punxsutawney to hear the news about their clime

And it doesn’t matter that Phil is right only 39% of the time.

I mean come on people if you’re really want to know what nature has in store

Turn on the TV...that’s what Doppler radar and out meteorologists are for!

No, we tune in to Punxsutawney on Groundhog day not for the magic but the mystique.

Because in a world that’s constantly changing it’s traditions that we seek.

Perhaps in Phil we see a simpler time, with less responsibilities and woe

When all we had to worry about was the coming of spring or a little snow.

That’s what makes us slow down February 2nd of every year

To discover what Phil the groundhog will do the moment he appears.

As for me I care not if Phil is some kind of climate prodigy or weather whiz

Because I live in Florida and we have no idea what winter is.

A DREAM

I had a little dream last night, oh it was nothing too extreme

But what made this one different is that I don’t usually dream.

I know that’s not quite true, the experts say we dream some every night

They even think we dream in color instead of black and white.

Which certainly begs the question that’s not as crazy as it seems

If a person is colorblind in real life, do they see colors in their dreams?

But I digress, it’s not that I do not dream, or dreaming I condemn

If I have dreams throughout the night, I just don’t remember them.

But I do remember last night’s dream, not all, but just a tad

For it involved a simple meeting between me, my mom and dad.

I was at some big auditorium on my way to a movie set (?)

When many friends came walking by asking, “Have you seen your parents yet?”

Everyone I knew was going to the same place, it was early in the day

But I was going to make a movie and was heading the other way.

Since I was early I went to check it out before I headed into town

As I was searching throughout the stands I heard, “Jimmy, come sit down.”

Their they were as plain as day, long before they died. 

Young and carefree and happy...sitting side by side.

I walked over and gave Mom a kiss on the cheek as Dad patted me on my head.

By the way this dream was in color, Mom was wearing lipstick...it was red.

I sat down, Dad asked me about the movie, “It’s going great.” I said

Then before I could say another word I woke up in my bed.

Dreams can be interpreted in many ways, no rule is hard and fast.

It could be, now that I’m retired, I was missing people from my past.

It could be subconsciously in my dream I was once again a little lad 

Who needed comfort from my Mom or reassurance from my dad.

I do not know why I remembered this dream or if it’s meaning I’ll ever embrace

But I do know this morning I woke up with a smile on my face.

Perhaps we’re not meant to fully understand, and no dream is ever as it seems 

Perhaps we are meant to have mystery in our life, and poetry in our dreams.