Chicks

These pretty devils stoke his vital flame,

Send him reeling without a flick of shame.

Proud he is as a rooster of his chicks;

Though at times they are sweet derelicts.

These Regents chicks avoid the wheel to grind

Until exams near and mischief must unwind.

Command

December's ice-berg ripped the bow

And smashed emotion's helm

Held to lovers' course of lasting vow

In face of cancer's beacon to overwhelm.

She was my courageous commodore;

Confident were I we would make the shore.

For March yields its adversaries

To April inhaling the green,

Moving May to warm the seas

And June's buoys rocks serene

Lining Summer's isle of memories:

Then do I captain a course to find

The endearing spirit in spousal sentiment

Yet to keel bobs December's fatal mine─

Hope derelict on the isle of disenchantment.

Christmas Card from Florida

At the foothills of the Adirondacks

Snow relentlessly falls and packs.

No need up there to dream

Of pearly Christmas gleam.

No envy down here, though,

Since it's warm and clear of snow.

And streets spanking clean─

Thanks to Florida’s green.

Ode to Our T-Bird

How proud was Joan

To head for Timber Point

In the bird's glory

Of two-tone dominated

By metallic champagne.

Alas, it's been through —

changing hands within the family —

Many road warriors since then

And time to put its loyal soul to rest

But not its glorious memories.

The Good Old Days

Note: The Clipper was a school paper I advised for many years. It's been an enduring memorable, professional experience.

Managing Editor of The 

Bellport Clipper

Christina! O how that nameplate echoes

Through the corridors of his mind!

When deadlines sail too slow

And the Clipper lists behind.

Yet other recalls of her name

Will etch a tranquil time

When loveliness and wit did frame

Young journalists' frenzied clime.

Thanksgiving Haiku

Turkey of the wild

met by the roaring musket

became the first feast.

Stacked hay and pumpkin

companions under the skies

warm the vagrant's heart.

The children from art

made pilgrim hats and wore them

over thankful eyes.

Mom sweetens the yams,

Grandma whips the potatoes

And Gramps carves the bird.

In feasting too much

and the tummy aches, give thanks

for alka-seltzer.

 Faith in the Quality of Love [Joan's page]

There will come the eventful evening

When you will hear these words abiding

And the measure of love takes on new meaning,

In spite of life's offensive and boorish malady.

You are my every thing in our private realm,

Free from diversions alien that can overwhelm

The fragile balance of love's dominion

Whose constitution declares a more perfect union

Wherein two selves celebrate abdication

To build an icon of deification

In each other's sacred awareness

Of the glory of the other's holiness.

Dreamily elevating common sensation

And versing love's ethereal affection

Melting two hearts into one

While the CD spins out melodious communion.

Thus mindful of the need to adjust,

Love's perspective is free of distrust

And flows to resolve ugly discontent

Of everyday trifles before they ferment.

This natural flow unconsciously abstracts

The element forgiveness even before the acts

To safeguard love's delicate fabrics

When faced with the planet's polemics

Whether it be a momentary attitude

Or an abusive, fiery mood,

The touch, the kiss, the hug of penitence

Hurries to soothing deliverance.

As the heart to the other grows akin,

The telephone is not the handle of chagrin,

Nor argument, but there to trade sweet intimacy.

The TV remote is controlled bilaterally;

The program but emanates peripherally─

An excuse to be at home together

For souls entwined in symbolic tether.

Irrelevant is what and where to eat

The mate across the table is what's the treat.

Whom you're bedding with is what's at stake

That's sure to remind you at daybreak

It's not the intensity of animal pleasure,

Nor by vanquishing the other,

Rather, by sweet submission of each partner

Sexually and spiritually revered─

Matter and spirit no longer feared.

Parents of both are respected if not adored.

Parents who intrude are kindly checked, not abhorred.

Friends of each are politely tolerated if not cherished.

Intrusive friends are not friends and should be banished.

Argument is for professors on bar stools,

Conflict is nil where love overrules.

Ah, yes, the overriding ambience of this amazing grace

Is under the glow of understanding's embrace─

That casts no shadow in harmonious space.

ClipArt