DON'T HAVE THE TIME?

Time has become oppressive to us...with so many places to go and people to meet

Since I don’t want to take up to much yours I’ll make this short and sweet.

Remember to prioritize your time in all you say and do

And don’t forget those people in your life who are also important to you.

Because when I ask and you say you don’t have the time...what I hear and what I see

Is that I’m not that important and you don’t have time...for me.

CAPTURING THE FOG

I have heard it said that trying to relive our childhood, as through this life we clog,

Is impossible; a fools errand; it’s like capturing the fog.

At one time I agreed with this; I assumed once we became women and men

Those good old days were over never to return again.

But now I see things differently I think with each new sunset, each new dawn

The person we were yesterday has changed but is never gone.

That person joins all the others from our past in a giant reservoir 

Allowing us to continually synthesize into the people who we are.

In a way we are constantly adding to ourselves--each day we change the sum

As we evolve from every person who we were, and are, into who we will become.

Is it impossible to recapture our childhood? I think not; our memory captures it for us

And as we sleep, perchance to dream, it wondrously restores us.

And although we may not ever again be that particular child...this I know 

We awake each morning to embrace the wisps of that child from long ago.

Responsibilities and obligations may change life’s roller coaster ride

But we needn’t worry about that child...he has never left our side.

So we don’t have to relive our childhood we only need be aware

That if we look within your heart and soul...we’ll find him nestled there

It makes perfect sense to me after all as a species look what we have done

We’ve climbed mountains, put a man on the moon and harnessed the power of the sun.

We have touched the clouds, we fall in love, we make houses out of logs

Don’t tell me we can’t do something simple like capturing the fog.

Hey a quick look out my window and I see a new morning’s about to dawn

As luck would have it, it’s foggy...excuse me while I head out to the lawn.

GROWING OLD TOGETHER

I’m going to give you a simple fact that you may find convoluted

But I think I’m on solid ground when I say it cannot be refuted.

In spite of all the products to make us look younger...no matter what they say

Each and every one of us is getting older everyday.

We can lather on the anti-aging cream and stay out of inclement weather

But the truth is everyone of us is growing old...together.

We can follow steps for younger looking skin, we can take showers that are colder

But when we wake up in the morning we’re all one more day older.

I saw an article the other day on how to look 7 years younger in 7 weeks

And I started to peruse it as my curiosity was piqued.

If I followed their simple steps...even Dr. Oz agreed

I could look 7 years younger in 7 weeks...guaranteed.

But then I thought why stop at 7 years when I could have much more

After all 61 minus 7 is only 54.

If I repeated their system a second time wouldn’t I be in heaven

If after 14 weeks on their plan I now looked 47?

Next I realized.. if I persisted... if I somehow possessed the drive

In 63 weeks if I kept going I could look like I was 5.

Then it hit me...when I reached this point in 5 more weeks what would people say

Because if my math is correct by that time I should just fade away.

So I have decided for me at least since I’m getting older I will be more wise

I’ll try to eat the right things, get plenty of sleep and find time to exercise.

For me looking younger is not important.  I’ll try to ignore that myth

And be happy to have found a person whom I’ll grow old together with.

SAD WORDS

In 1856 John Greenleaf Whittier wrote Maud Muller, a poem about a maid with hazel eyes

Who was working in a field one day when a judge came riding by.

He stopped his horse under a tree to be shaded from the sun above

Suffice it to say the maid and the judge at that moment fell in love.

But neither said a word of their feelings that fateful summer day

And in the end the maid went back to work and judge...he rode away

They each married into unhappiness for how could their spouses know

Their hearts never left the shade of that tree those many years ago.

Mr. Whittier concludes, “For all the sad words of tongue and pen

The saddest are these...”It might have been.”

The other day I read a story about a homeless man who died

There was a notice asking for anyone who knew him...but nobody replied.

With no money or no relatives and his true identity concealed

He would be buried without ceremony in some old potter’s field.

I wondered about his life and what could have caused him his dismay

What circumstances could have occurred for his life to end this way?

Surely in the game of life he once thought he would win

What turned his life from what it was...into what it might have been?

The answers to these questions most likely will never be known

But to me the saddest words of tongue and pen are these, “He died alone.”

THE MAN WHO MAKES THE CRANES

I find I quote Mother Teresa a lot, I do so respectfully.

I admire her giving nature and her spirituality.

In November I wrote a poem about origami cranes as a way to inform and entertain

Since that day as a tribute I have been making cranes.

When I started working at the bookstore, since I make cranes any way,

We decided to keep them in a basket and start giving them away.

A gift to all our customers and here’s a pleasant thought..

They are free to anyone who wants one whether they buy a book or not.

It is a simple gesture with no strings attached that customers have embraced

Meant only to elicit joy and put a smile on their face.

Perhaps if one person takes that smile, (this is not absurd as it may sound)

It might go out into the world and be warmly passed around.

Until that one crane picked by one person from a basket at our place

Is responsible for putting a smile on the entire human race...

Hey, you never know it could happen, it could start a smile chain...

Perhaps that is one reason I continue making cranes.

It is better to give than to receive is an old adage...but I also have perceived 

That in the act of giving is the magic to receive.

It is symbiotic...you hope that in the giving perhaps you will captivate and beguile

And you receive enchantment from the wonder of their smile.

The other day when I opened the store as I began my routine I could see

There on the counter...a dollar bill and a note were waiting for me.

‘This dollar was left by a woman,’ the note went on to explain,

‘Who wanted to give a little something to the man who makes cranes.’

So I took that dollar bill, folded it into a crane and it’s little wings I spread

I’ll keep it as a constant reminder of something Mother Teresa said...

She said we don’t have to do great things in life...we do not have to rise above...

But everyone has the capacity...to do small things with great love.

PEANUT BUTTER & JELLY

In honor of National Peanut Butter and Jelly day I have my words arrayed

To pay homage and allegiance to the best sandwich ever made.

When I was young one sure thing that would make my heart go flutter

Was when Mom made me a sandwich filled with jelly and peanut butter.

I didn’t eat pastrami or salami or those exotic meats from the corner deli

No, for me it was a sandwich filled with peanut butter and grape jelly.

Mom tried to broaden my horizons, as mothers are wont to do

But unless it was peanut butter and jelly I would bid them all adieu.

She tried peanut butter with bananas for a healthy midday snack

But I licked off all the peanut butter and sent the banana back.

She tried putting marshmallow cream on top of my peanut butter

“You’ll love this.” She exclaimed, “It’s called a fluffer nutter.”

“Marshmallows are for roasting,” as from the table I quickly fled

I prefer only peanut butter and jelly to be spread upon my bread.”

So she tried adding apples, and cinnamon and cheese

But I would turn my nose up and say, “Only peanut butter and jelly please.”

When she asked me what I wanted “MOM!” I’d grunt “Every time you ask me, you know exactly what I’ll say.

I could eat peanut butter and jelly every meal, every minute of every day.”

“I can’t believe you,” Mom sighed one day, “you’re a peanut butter and jelly nut.

With all that peanut butter and jelly one day your mouth will be permanently shut.”

Then a cunning smile pursed her lips and she said, “How about it son?

When you finish up this sandwich, would you like another one?”

A FUNNY THING HAPPENED...

A funny thing happened at the bookstore last week and at that time I made a vow

Not to talk about it...but I think it would do my heart good to relate it to you now.

It begins with a new book we got in the store, an expensive book I fear...

It was written about General Custer and is entitled The Last Frontier.

It ‘s not the story but it’s the inscription that gives this book its life

The author not only signed it but wrote a note to Custer’s wife!

This book sits inside a glass case for all our customers to see

She’s so expensive we keep her there as she must be handled sparingly.

I wonder about the route this book took from the frontier days of yore,

How it went from the hands of Custer’s wife and ended up in our store?

Well last week I was explaining her history to a group of customers...three

A 70 year old woman, her daughter and her daughter’s husband,...Lee.

The older woman spoke excitedly, “Today’s by birthday...I’m one year closer to death...

Her words were slurred a little and I could smell the celebration on her breath.

“I’m 70 years old today,” she continued, “with books I have a connection

I’ve been gathering them since I was a girl...I have 3000 in my collection.”

“Would you like to hold this one?” I said ignoring her slightly inebriated state.

What a nice way to remember her birthday, I thought, a great way to celebrate.

When I handed her the book, she smiled at me and I’m not going to lie

Tears began to well up in the corners of her eyes.

She looked at the book then back to me then held it to her chest

What she was thinking at that moment I could have only guessed.

Suddenly she grimaced. She wasn’t smiling anymore

She fell backward into her daughters arms and the book fell to the floor.

I ran around the counter...I had to take a look

Was I more worried about the lady or that two thousand dollar book?

But the lady seemed fine in her daughters arms...there was serenity on her face

So I gently picked up that old book and returned it to the case.

You may think my caring about the book more than the lady may be cruel

And I’d agree with you any day but today...because today is...April Fools!