Waste Not, Want Not

Waste Not, Want Not

One of my biggest

regrets 

in life is

my inability to

stuff left-over

toothpaste

back in its tube.

I can insert key to lock,

throw pill to mouth,

squeeze foot to sock,

slide letter to mailbox,

transfer love to heart—

but forget 

cram toothpaste to tube.

Admittedly,

I’ve handicapped 

myself—

I didn’t earn a 

Harvard Law degree,

or Stanford PhD—

I’m not a Rhodes scholar, 

or Oxford Fellow—

Cal Tech Engineer,

or win Summa Cum Laude honor.

Coupling those discrepancies 

with my less than

a kindergartener’s

store of

common sense,

makes life a constant 

pothole.

No wonder 

the toothpaste debacle. 

Life and Death

Life and Death 

The poinsettia has died—
I tried.
 
As best I could—
Anyone would.
 
Bathed in natural light—
Warm and bright.
 
Watered now and then—
Just say when.
 
More Christmas joy brought—
I thought.
 
Auld Lang Syne and table set—
“A cup of kindness yet.”

Cupid launched his missile—
Made lovers smile.
 
Easter’s promise. He cleansed our sins—
Everybody wins!
 
Saint Patrick listened to March say—
“Corned beef okay?”
 
Mother’s Day we all know—
Miss her so!
 
Memorial Day, too high a cost—
Brave lives lost.
 
The poinsettia has died—
I tried.

As for me—
What will be, will be.

Overheard At The Derby

 Overheard At The Derby

I do like your hat.
really?

yes. it reminds me of a lampshade i once knew.
really?

yes. like you, the lamp wore it slightly askew. 
you mean crooked?

aye. awry. cocked just so over one eye.
really?

yes. it’s a fabulous look.
thank you. is your horse running today?

horse? i came but to see the hats.
Photo by Alexander Stemplewski on Pexels.com