Signs, Omens, Portents;

products of anxiety,

or just grokking history?

~

The universe speaks

to us in multiple ways –

sometimes using sign language

Reasonableness

is truly out of fashion

in contemporary discourse.

~

Who applies reason

while heeding a delusion

propagating enmity?

The new policy:

Redistribute wealth some more;

Making the have nots, have naughts.

~

And greed again trumps

common sense, outreach, and care:

me first policy laid bare.

Knox was so thrilled

when the flowers arrived, but

dismayed when they weren’t for him.

~

Flowers bring pleasure

to people and dogs alike,

more so, when unexpected.

Endless nights praying

for a word, of any sort,

be it fair or foul, but soon!

~

Don’t know why patience

has to take so long to learn.

I mean come on, speed it up.

Just to let you know

I might get used to all this

care and attention.

~

Just to let you know

we’ll quickly break you of that

with our third-world nursing skills.

They’re now all adults,

our children and grandchildren.

How shall we, now, interact?

~

In the past what’s served

us best is few suggestions

and lots of humor and love.

Birthday 82

is being celebrated

in unconventional ways.

~

Unconventional

is the hallmark of our clan,

whether two or eighty-two!

Some great adventures

are better left untaken

preferring boredom instead

~

Sometimes it’s not left

for us to decide. All we

can do is go for the ride.

Discontent must breed

before citizens will cede

a need, at last, for progress.

~

Progress is best made

when want is not confused with

need and needs are met.

As December wind

blusters, the sun rises up

and attempts to soothe.

~

That wind reminds us

It’s time to lock our windows.

With each gust we feel the draft.

Tiny ice crystals,

dissecting frozen sunlight,

paint rainbows ‘cross frosty grass.

~

December magic

brings a shivery smile

to our freezing lips.

I still remember

your response when I read you

the book, “Where Did I Come From”.

~

It’s probably best

I’ve long since forgotten

that pre-pubescent response.

Let us not forget,

poetry is a language

steeped in metaphoric hint.

~

If you’re looking for

obvious clarity, you

might try the phone book.

In December’s cold

my mind simply froze and thus

this poem’s delayed.

~

Likewise my response

suffered a similar fate

and posted equally late.

Sudden arctic chill

presages winters approach

warning of dark times ahead.

~

Through it all the sun’s

still there giving whatever

warmth and light it can.

Dreamed of disturbing

a skunk while removing trash

from under the outside steps.

~

Hark, Thane of Cawdor!

Your dream, surely, doth profess

something rotten in Denmark!

Will his crony court

curb the president’s ego

or will more of our rights go?

~

On Thanksgiving Day

let’s smile and exercise

our right to a Trumpfree day.

Tempers grow hotter

as days grow colder, but there’s

still much to be thankful for.

~

Heated rhetoric,

lingering past November,

amplifies global warming.

November forgets,

sometimes, and presents us all

with beautiful, balmy, days.

~

Let’s cherish each day

November forgets because

December will remember.

What do you do when

you have committed some crimes?

Get elected president?

~

There are other ways

to come to grips with past deeds,

but they take introspection.

Sunlight’s hammering

softened to a lambent glow

by curtains of Chantilly Lace.

~

Though it has no need

for softening, moonlight peeps

through those curtains too.

The dark may be good

for sleeping, but we shouldn’t

decide to live there.

~

No one picks darkness

for a permanent abode.

Sometimes we must abide there.

This obfuscation

of science with baseless crap

is a tool to serve their greed.

~

Why use facts to serve

truth when money, not truth, is

what you are after?

Cardinals and blue jays

ignored those loud, boasting crows

and quietly dined.

~

Crows have leave to boast

since they both make and use tools.

I know people who do less.

Politicians reap;

harvesting the verdant fields

ploughed and planted by poets.

~

Poets weep when they

see politicians destroy

what poets ploughed and planted.

~

She opened the door

to the soft knocks of sadness

and they shared a cup of tea.

~

Tasteless pastry flakes

remain on the cutting board

after they have gone.

Lounging long abed

is the crowning coup de grâce

of all successful journeys!

~

Sometimes we just need

to rest even when journeys

have brought no success.

This dystopian

world that’s being created

demands major revisions.

~

Some authors refuse

input from an editor

missing the best sellers list.

Riding down the rails

watching neighborhoods decay

as farmland falls to urban sprawl.

~

These days there’s much to

rail about. We’d probably

feel better if we switched tracks.