
I have a small collection of poetry which appeared on Amazon in early April. The cover is an oil I did for my granddad in 1957.


It’s seldom easy to detect the chains
of friendship as they’re forged in work and play.
Invisible or not, the daily pains
we suffer as we wend our weary way
through life grow smaller when we know that
always at day’s end we’ll have that time
with our good friend to celebrate each other.
We play it in our minds as pantomime.
“It’s our turn now, Mack. Shall we take our walk?”
He beats you to the door, looks back, his part begun.
“You might be slower than before. We’ll talk,”
he says, “but first let’s have our dose of fun.”
He didn’t know that he’d approached his limit
on this plane. He was invested in it.
Does Santa have your stocking stuffer list?
I checked mine twice to be completely clear
that nothing of significance was missed--
My aunt is ninety-nine, a lovely, dear
sweet gal. I hope she knows me when I call
next time. My neighbor has a teenage son
and prays that nothing will befall
him in Iraq. She’d like to have him back.
A single mother down the street one block
has three sick kids, no toys nor healthy food.
She wonders how to feed her little flock
and how to boost her flagging mood.
I’d love to see a Spanish-speaking girl
in class some day, with nursing on her mind.
A PSU course would be fun for her
and open doors she’d surely find.
And last, I’d like to see us out of debt
before our nation staggers down the road
that Greece and others took. We’ve simply let
the life we chose become too big a load.
Though I’ve certainly waded quite deep,
the new shoreline I’ve found is not steep.
So I’ll have a cold drink
and try hard not to think--
then catch up on some much needed sleep!
Gosh, I read till one eye left its socket,
put the eight ball in the wrong pocket.
So I re-racked again
till it finally sank in
and at last I can say that I’ve got it!
When my focus had gone out of whack
your assistance directed me back.
When I study with you
this stuff sticks like good glue
“Can I give you a hand?” said one gal to her friend.
“If we study together our efforts will blend.”
So that’s just what they did;
from the bogies they hid,
The result was a mutual A-Okay end.
I give up ‘cause it’s too hard for me
and surrendering now seems to be
the least painful recourse
for a broken old horse.
I’ll be sobbing beneath an oak tree.
Please deliver this stuff piece by piece
and my knowledge will surely increase.
If you give me too much
I’ll need too big a crutch
and must call up the pacing police.