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A Storm of Bubbles

  A Storm of Bubbles Another storm threatens, but this one’s inside When too much bubble bath made a swirling tide For ir’s a bath in a tub that the young boy named “Shaboozy” The tub jets out water, its real name Jacuzzi Out of the tub rose a bubble tsunami Hidden within were the Brothers Ramponi

A World of Water and Sand

  A World of Water and Sand Waves roll and roll across the lake Driven by the wind without a wind break But rolling and rolling, they do break white Big rollers like steeds, horses of white Stampede to the shore where they roll-out for more Back of the beach lay high sand dunes Great piles of sandy rock ruins For thousands  of years of pounding waves Turned hard rock into tiny sand grains 180 degrees of beach meet our eyes Seven miles of beach in front of us lies 

North Shore, Lake Michigan, 2025

  North Shore, Lake Michigan, 2025 The water so placid and cerulean blue But tomorrow it will be something to rue For weather is coming whatever we will Storms are coming with waves like high hills For this is a lake, a Great Lake at that With waves that build to make sailors go “drat” They build-up and build-up for hundreds of miles To erase even veterans’ seafarers smiles The Lake, which one of the Great can it be? Is it Superior, Huron, Ontario, or Erie? It’s one that runs mostly North and South It’s Michigan, one great watery mouth

Georgisms 2.0

  Georgisms 2.0 Age 9, he dropped a scissors on himself on vacation, then said “I’m OK…I think.” On a test in 3rd grade, he is supposed to tell and show the work. He puts “Top Secret.” In 1st grade, there is a question he has to answer, so he raises his hand and says “I’m just itching me.” In summer of 2003, he finds shiny rocks in the yard, He says they are diamonds. Mom says, “They are quartz, George.” George replies,”Can you help me find gallons and pints, too?” Eden, the dog, crawls up to George, age 7, and squeals. George says, “You must be hungry. Even howls talk to me.” George says,” Moooom.” Dad says, “Yes?” George replies, “I want Mom.” Dad says, “Mom’s not home.” George asks, “Is she getting a dog?” Dad says, “No, we have a dog,”             George replies, “Is she getting a dinosaur?” George asks, “Are we rich?” Dad says no. George asks, “How much money do we have?” Dad says a lot. George asks, “Can we afford a ...

Help! I Lost My Voice

  Help! I Lost My Voice Hopefully not my poetic voice, though, lately, it’s been heard down some dark alleys and dead end streets. It’s my voice box voice I lost. If I make a sound at all, it’s, by turns, gravelly. whispery, and high-pitched. Went to see a doc, and got some meds. One, an antibiotic to zap the microcritters causing the sore throat, another to replace the beneficial bugs in the gut, some of which will be zapped by the antibiotic. So, singing in the shower will soon return, not basso or soprano, but my usual tenor.   

Our Meadow's Changing Moods

  Our Meadow’s Changing Moods First, white as snow, because it is Next, myriad plants of brown, not yet revived Then, plants of spring green Next, plants of dandelion gold Then, white of dandelion seed heads Next, seeds fly and we’re back to green Then, white clover among the green Our meadow changes with her whim and the weather 

We Live in a Birdhouse

  We Live in a Birdhouse A sparrow pecked a hole in an outdoor beam end,  A beam end just for show, for it is hollow. Now we share our house with a brooding family. We live in a birdhouse. Others have come close to moving-in… Birds that build nests on the near-horizontal lengths of downspouts; A robin watchman who pecked-on his reflection in the kitchen window, Thinking that his reflection was an intruder; Mallard ducks that swim in our pond, waddle over to the patio door, And gaze at their reflection in the glass, But looking really like they want a seat at the dinner table. This year we’ll honor the sparrow’s hard work and not interfere with their nesting. But next year we’ll have to rebuild the beam end using a harder wood, ironwood perhaps.