I miss my “ little” Book Club
and I miss my Book Club friends.
We’re not getting any signal when,
and if, this Virus ends.
Our connection’s been suspended
for perhaps a year –-or two!
But, we are surely strong enough
to safely make it through.
We haven’t met together since
this Virus has begun.
Perhaps we’ll meet again
sometime in 2021.
I planted my Costco bulbs today.
I hope they do just what they say.
The daffodils say “Unsurpassable.”
If they flop, I’ll be irascible!
I’m looking for a Spring display
of bounteous bloom in rich array.
I’m looking for a rich pay back
to balance out my aching back.
I made it across the Boulevard.
Traffic was light. It wasn’t hard.
But then I ran plumb out of luck.
I met a Rubatino truck!
I shrieked at him: You A…. Beware!
He made it clear he didn’t care.
But I have made it back alive.
I give myself a Happy High Five!
This week was my “Toronto Trip”
but I’m feeling pretty sad.
I didn’t get to go at all,
and I really wish I had.
Canada’s closed its borders
to exploring folks like me.
And when they’ll open up again
is cloaked in Mystery!
I want to see Toronto
so I’ll find another way.
It’s Bucket Item Number One
when this Virus goes away!
My heart needs a gentle lullaby.
My heart needs a simple song.
My heart needs a soothing melody
to push these Blues along.
I’m feeling quite suspicious
about my telephone.
I lift up the receiver:
Yes, there’ s a dial tone!
I’ve only had two Robo calls
in this entire week!
It’s beyond my comprehension!
I am too choked up to speak!
I think that Aliens stepped in
to bring my life some peace.
It was Cosmic Intervention
that brought this odd surcease!.
It’s an ord’n’ry Monday morning and
something’s got me curious.
The robo calls aren’t ringing—
aren’t dialing fast and furious.
I wonder if some Cosmic Flare’s
upset the Universe….
or some kind of world wide outage…
or even something worse!
Something Big has happened if
it stops a Robo Call!
I am in a quandary.
I don’t understand at all.
Today I made some Spinach Soup.
Didn’t know if I’d like it or not.
But that old Popeye had it right.
The soup just hits the spot.
I don’t like housework.
I don’t like to do it.
The only thing that’s “Good”
is when you’ve gotten through it.
I love the lilting music of
a Ragtime melody.
I love the catchy tunes that spring
alive beneath the key.
I love the syncopation and
the ragged, broken beat
as the music sends a signal that
just leads to dancing feet.
I love the fluid motion that impels
the tune along.
I love the Ragtime music.
I love a Ragtime song.
