Musing

You asked of late how I was,
I failed to answer.
I was in the company of Misery,
But not to fret;
Misery has been my companion long these short 62 years.
We are old close-kept friends,
But such marvelous blues:
Steel, royal, sky, ice, midnight,
And the pale blue-white of late sunset:
A miserable color as neither pure nor hearkening of dark.
But my friend—
I am well enough to run a half-mile
And smart enough to take a dosage of sufficient aspirin;
I no longer hurt so much,
But for the loneliness.
Misery shares such liberally with me,
We both explore the Small Empty.
In the fullness of Time I have shared great times
And small reverses with co-workers and patients and their families,
But no more.
I’m in between opportunities,
So I remain,
Yours truly,
Musing….

Answer True

My lady asks
Have any fairy wings?
My lady asks
For the most strangest of things
How is your breathing?
Have you any pain?
My lady makes such inquiries
Again and again and again
My lady walks
Toward sunrises and sunsets
My lady talks
About lost causes and yesterday’s sure bets
Have you made your plans?
Have you made your peace with goodbye?
My lady bravely faces a future
When it will be her turn to let herself cry
My lady asks
Have you any fairy wings?
My lady asks
For the most wondrous of things
How are you?
How are things going?
My lady shares her heart
With a love that’s flowing and flowing and flowing

See You On Down The Road

Made it back home
Between the here and gone
Left the hugs all alone
And then cogitated on them tears
So many beautiful spirits
Sitting right next to you
If you’d only let a clue
In through all those clutched tainted years
Finished the timesheet
Liz needs them in by noon
As Love walks in cartoon—
Hey, that Guinness makes some handsome beers
Allman Brothers swear its true
Twixt the done and the doggone
Tangled up in the lost and the only one
Have you really met your peers?
But the neurosis pales in the wash
And now sitting alone all by myself
It’s not so bad up here on the shelf
I’ve a smitten merlot, cheers!

–last day FullTime Social Worker at hospice. Moving on….

Promise

Perhaps I shouldn’t promise to articulate
All those darker feelings
And why I never feel all that great;
Another promise lames out over
The another empty glass—
The red wasn’t that clever,
But
Another lost dog in Windsor Park West,
Doesn’t matter how hard or it’s
Enough that he tried his do his best;
Another firefly gives his/her all
Chasing away the falling sun;
Did you hear kittycat’s call?
Then
Senior prom and all the girls radiate
Fulfilling those brighter dreams;
It’s that we ought to perpetuate.
Another DNR marks the spot
And the on-call Angel of Death drives on and on
Wanna share? Let’s not.
And
Iron all the clean white shirts,
Sharper pleats reflect best;
Clear prose can reveal in spurts;
Yes, I need to take to bed,
Chasing the rising sun,
Whatever happened to Offred?
Anyway….

Fare-Thee-Well Our Lovely

Fare-thee-well too lovely
May the winds carry you to kinder shores
Where all tasks are clear
And not overtaxing are the daily chores
We pray for thee comfort
Along with all-fulfilled yearning
While we in a far past
Are left in our wreckage long long burning
Walk on in the fair comely light
May brightness and the cool grace your path
Yours hast been written
Inscrutable even unto the wisest polymath
So, fare-the-well our too lovely
Bring happiness to the yonder years
Yes, you shall be much missed
But joyful will be our following tears

Phooey Bears and Pumpkins

Phooey bears and pumpkins
Broccoling down the street
Word salad sophistry
Oversentences incomplete
Salivating chickens
Perchanching over the peat
Chemistry presupposes
But never would we meet
Parkinsonian scythes
Another pretty smiler laid low
When it all sums out
Wait—
“Broccoling down the street?”

Bless Her

Bless me back to Ol’ Mississippi
Calling on the phone is Helen Tippie
She’s a nurse byootiful, suitable, and something exquisite
All her patients love her and can’t wait for that next visit;
But we be sending best hopes for that man of hers—
What’s going down is a sad bad curse;
With wishes and prayers that he gets all better
Cause he’s a lovely man, like an Irish setter.
And now let’s end this poem all quick and nifty
Gotta take this call from Helen Tippie—
“Whassup, madear?”

Saturday Night at the Carousel

Saturday night and going to the Carousel
Gonna get me some Cooper and you just can’t tell
How it’s gonna be and where its gonna go
Cuz I really couldn’t say and I just don’t know—
But the music’ll be hot and the beer flowing
The boys all handsome and the girls all a-glowing
So, come on out to that joint on Street Five Two
Get ya some Cooper, we’ll all be looking for you!

–Hey Sheila!

On A Sea Cruise

Words from around the corner
Came in and fell down
Missing the rhyme and
Acting the clown
No reason or rhythm—
Nothing made sense;
Twas half in caps
And in dodgy tense.
But Einaudi cast ripples
The ivories in congeal
Nouns akimbo
Verbs of steel
The kid goes to the Caribbean
Only seventeen
And still has her glee on
Happily, she’s chaste
And none the wiser
A pittance of allowance
From one co-Dad the Miser
Girl be wise
Woman be stronger
You’re soon to be 18
Your shield no longer!
Words arose
And fled the scene
What a question:
How do I know what I mean?

Bumblebee and Sally

Sally Gossamer Wingstep heard a most curious sound,
It came from beyond the wilderness copse, over, about, and around;
When Sally flew around the last tree a wonder she could see
A greying Fablehaven hound softly baying at a prone bumblebee.
Sally risked to go closer to inspect this quite usual sight—
Instantly she flew for Johnny H. Beekeeper in a quite frenzied flight.
Can he find the resolution for a bee brought down so low?
If he lacks the right solution, where then could she ever go?
Johnny was tending keen to the so new garden green—
Petite pois on the trellis, coifed and coiled like you’ve never seen,
Tomates on the vine, carrots long and tall, blueberries arching high;
And Johnny’s prized honeycombs, so grand as to make a master bumble bee sigh,
And cousin-once-removed baby Amber Grace with the prettiest wee fairy face
Was flutter-skurrying in and out of plants and was just all over the place!
“Johnny, O Johnny”, Sally cried to her family friend with sure pride
“Come quick with me to see this poor poor bee, laid low and curled to one side.”
Finding hard-working Katje to attend their baby Amber Grace
Sally and Johnny flew straight off to the far away wooded place
With simple mind and quiet grace, John approached the curled up bee
But twas nothing more could be done, was plain and simple to see.
“Let’s take him home” offered John to Sally’s slow honoring tears,
Nodding, Sally looked for brambles to build a sled as for one’s peers.
A far off buzz grew nearer, the Wild Hive had come to find their brother;
A rippling peace reigned as Bumble Bee and Fairy regarded one another.
John and Sally backed away bowing as the Bumble Bees took up the reins
The bees would long remember how those aloof fairies had taken such pains.
The old Fablehaven hound bayed again as the sled disappeared around the wooded copse;
Sally and John made their long slow way back to home and the fairy-grown crops.
Sally made her thank you’s and kissed wee Amber Grace
Quite a wonder to see how Honor and Love forever bless this place.