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Sunday, December 8, 2019


Hannah Gosselin is a special soul who posts many special photos of nature, accompanied by her own special words. I have never met her, yet I love and appreciate her special self.


Ever receptive,
always responsive,
she looks, sees,
she listens, hears,
making herself available,
open to the magnificence
around her,
taking in the incomprehensible
beauty of nature,
making it accessible
for all of us.
I am touched.

Sunday, December 1, 2019

The End of November

The month seems to 
have had wings,
here in America’s Finest City,
where the locals are old, 
the snowbirds are grateful, 
and the poets are all in good form.
A month of happy returns
and thanksgiving, 
of many old friends,
a new few. 
We live mostly for today, 
knowing the gods will laugh 
at foolish plans beyond 
breakfast or lunch.
Winter’s not yet here, 
at least not officially,
but we know all too well
how wise we were to move,
yet how much we miss 
just a few more weeks to 
the midnight kiss at nine p.m..
Yes, winter’s not here, but
don’t tell that to 
our aching legs and
shoulders at dawn. 
That’s our breath we see 
in front of us in the morning,
leading the way to the coffee.
No complaints, though.
There’s much to be learned at this age.
A little loss of sound can be a blessing,
a chance to return to the
self-absorption of youth, even as 
December is a time for connection,
visits, phone calls, letters, cards and
e-mails, in that very descending order 
of intimacy, and it really is too bad,
what e-mail thing has done to
letter writing, ancient and loving art.
Visits require some degree of readiness,
at least a clean bathroom, but
phone calls, especially the random ones,
can find you in your pajamas, 
heck, even on the toilet. 
Cards are okay, when one does not
have time for a letter, but 
letters have more heart, give more time
to the writer to be reflective,
like a poet, 
searching, reaching, looking
for just the right words.
A writer of letters gets to reflect,
to muse a bit about the addressee, to
remember precious moments, to dream of
better moments yet to come, 
maybe even to plan some, and say so.
It is a peaceful activity, letter writing,
perfect for the cocoa and comforter
days of year’s end. 
We’re older now, 
no longer big consumers;
rather, giving stuff away,
the things that have piled up 
in closets and storage units over time,
so Black Friday means nothing, 
Cyber Monday even less. 
We might still go to the parties, 
ooh and aah over trees and menorahs,
eat too much cheese,
drink just the right amount of wine.
We’ll arrive late, leave early,
talk about the coming films,
and wish each other well.
We’ll tiptoe through 
these next few weeks, and
soon, the new year will come
and we’ll make it our peaceful own.
My sweetie, the cats and me.

Thursday, November 28, 2019


Thank you for the friends I meet,
also for the foods we eat,
every liquid drop, each seed,
and thank you for the love I need.
Thank you for our lovely beach,
the ocean so within our reach.
Even though it’s not the norm,
I appreciate the occasional storm.
I’m thankful that it comes to mind 
to smile a lot, and to be kind.
It’s great to see, with honest clarity,
I care enough for flawless charity,
and I’m reminded every day
I’m grateful that I’ve learned to pray,
since it’s the perfect place to start,
to ease my soul, to warm my heart.
Thank you for my new found health,
what I now know as my true wealth.
Thank you for the clean, fresh air,
and sun and laughter, quite the pair.
Thanks also for my art, my books,
our older cats, their goofy looks,
tee shirts, sweat pants, my faith too,
and nothing’s better than our zoo.
Thank you for my meditations,
those middle of the day vacations.
Thank you for our lovely home,
and each and every published poem.
Mostly, thanks for my awesome wife,
the greatest part of a grateful life.

Friday, November 15, 2019


Not Bottom, Nor Middle,

but serene top shelf,
mostly calm, sometimes placid,
in high-grade mental health.
So there’s my current total, 
a pretty decent score,
I like it a lot, I really do.
Please, sir, may I have more?
No alcohol crossed my lips,
and I stayed away from chips,
eating a lot of veggie food,
which helped elevate my mood.
Daytime protocols I kept,
as more peacefully I slept.
Lunched with friends, a nice repast,
It really was a blast.
Thought of my friend in a monastery,
which left me feeling very
happy, with aplomb,
this lifestyle, it’s the bomb.

Wednesday, November 13, 2019

Name Calling

So many names, titles, appellations, epithets, designations, descriptions, 
pseudonyms, some by choice, others by chance, a couple memorable, a few a bit annoying. The certificate says it’s Daniel, father went with Dan, later Daniel Boone, while mother preferred Danny. Tough name to pronounce, so some young friends liked Danny P, others stuck with Pieface or Greek. Aging, it became mister, then Sergeant, hero, counselor, boss. Next in line, highest in import, Honey. Now it’s mostly Daniel, sometimes Ely the Eel, but the all-time favorite is Dionysios, after a grandfather never met. Not the Roman god of wine, Dionysus. My drink was ouzo.

Sunday, November 10, 2019

The Joy of Peace

Life is wild, 
in process, 
Turn toward others,
live with an open heart.
Peace begins with love.
Slide on into love.
Ease on into joy.
Less stressed, 
more blessed.

Saturday, November 9, 2019

Personal Reflections

I envision an afterlife 
with cats and birds and dogs, 
and of course, my soul mate
and, oh yes, with comfortable clothes.
I usually picture nothing
as a good thing to achieve.
I do, however, believe in
a source, a power, an omnipresence,
which some call God, others Spirit.
Doesn’t matter what you call it.
It’s here, there and everywhere,
working through me.
I mean, can one think that
we are merely accidents?
I don’t remember exactly when or if
I found this power.
I just know that It found me.
I grew up with It.
I was surrounded by It.
It just looked like something else,
perhaps like lakes and trees,
or several small town taverns.
I am at ease not knowing,
feel no need to prove it.
I simply enjoy reflecting on It.