When a bad hombre

elects to break a bargain,

what price will the victims pay?

~

Victims pay the full

price while bad hombres abscond 

with amassed  bargains.

When fear runs rampant,

what helps some keep their wits, act

with caring civility?

~

A sure conviction

that whatever evil comes,

love will be our salvation.

Celebrating change

may lead to strong emotions

but that’s really no bad thing.

~

Strong emotions are

 the music of the many 

varied songs of life.

Have things always been

so crass, but better concealed

before? What comes next?

~

The pendulum swings.

Political correctness

breeds heartless, hateful, contempt.

Summer’s arrival,

so close upon Winter’s heels,

leaves no time to relish Spring.

~

The way things have been

going we may think she’s a

goner, but Spring might be back.

Didn’t anyone

tell May she didn’t have to

pretend to be June?

~

Fine ladies refrain

from displaying public heat;

or so says Emily Post!

Since before he ran,

he has drawn objurgation,

leading people into fear.

~

You don’t have to draw

a picture or name names for

me to know of whom you speak.

On these sun-lit days

of spring when pollen holds

us captive, Claritin rings.

~

The clarion call

of an antihistamine

rings like a crystal clear bell.

May May’s arrival,

bourgeoning with budding buds,

presage an august August.

~

Sometimes a poet’s

search for topic, words, and verse

may come in a gust.

Seeking reason in

the unreasonable is

a poor use of time.

~

Cutting one’s losses

is more than expedience;

simple self-preservation.

Betrayed by my id

and ravaged by my ego,

my body takes its revenge.

~

And when the body

screams, ego and id dissolve

into an unconscious mess.

If they’re going to

mount a soap box, couldn’t they

at least let their words be true?

~

Standing on the box

precludes the use of that soap

for washing out their foul mouths.

If we teach our kids

to ignore stereotypes,

will they recognize evil?

~

We can teach them to

pay attention. Sometimes wolves

come in sheeps’ clothing.

How can you keep from

bellyaching when you know

your belly actually aches?

~

You can bellyache

to your little heart’s content;

The world will still move forward.

Like making omelets,

fostering progressive change,

May break Humpty’s ego’s shell.

~

If it’s the Humpty

I’m thinking 0f, nothing could

break that ego shell.

How can we go back

to normal when it’s a state

we joyfully left?

~

We seldom regress

when we focus on the joy

and seek a brighter normal.

And so it begins…

the sharing of favorites,

movies, books, and TV shows.

~

A really sure sign

of trust is when we can share 

our unedited pleasures.

I know this must be

a sunny day for you and

your son in more ways than one.

~

A vision is blue,

arrives like a western breeze

bringing warmth along with her.

There’s a time to dance.

Or, at least, it would seem so

judging by these dressed up kids.

~

Whenever we yearn

to express what we feel, when

words just aren’t enough, we dance.

Just wondering – if

you were a gambling man,

what  are the odds you’d give us?

~

We’ve got better odds

than the White Rhinoceros,

but smart money’s on Bed Bugs.

These early spring rains

inundate country roadways,

enhancing the greenery.

~

But  we find ourselves

suddenly driving into

a soaking oblivion.

Doesn’t Winter know,

at least by now, that it just

can’t win this contest with spring?

~

A once compelling

force is often at a loss

knowing when it’s out of steam.

In the urban heart,

twentieth century walls

reflect a bygone era.

~

Reflectors become

the source of reflection for

poets who pass by.

Police car stops. Blue 

lights flash. Traffic halts. Mother

duck and ducklings cross the road.

~

There are some hallmarks

of languid southern culture

that the north could emulate.

Remain dignified

when filled with indignation!

Confusion to the rival!

~

In these times nothing

is more confusing to foes

and rivals than dignity.

Monday? Snow. Friday’s

forecast? Eighty one – and yet

many who count aren’t counting.

~

They’re all to busy

to worry ’bout the weather;

tending more pressing concerns.

Do all graduates

of the Wharton School perceive

life as a zero-sum game?

~

Those who excel at

the business of life don’t think

you must lose for them to win.

How can we listen

to others if the only

voice we can hear is our own?

~

A conversation;

both talking and listening?

Who can even imagine!

One lone sentinel

stands over fallen comrades,

survivor of Winter’s wrath.

~

Such early spring sights

sadden and gladden the heart –

a seasonal paradox.

How many teens does

it take to pick up

a dropped morsel from the floor?

~

With my lazy teens

and hyper-vigilant dogs,

the answer, of course, is none!