Remembering Memorial Day
Do you remember Memorial Day
Beyond the Indy 500 Speedway?
At which soldier’s grave do you decorate,
His or her service to commemorate?
Is it merely the summer’s starting gun,
Time to shed winter and soak in some sun?
A holiday without too much holy --
Get outside and pass the ravioli!
Lest we forget, we’d once solemnly say,
Of why the sacrifices our war dead pay.
Whether their true causes were won or lost,
They did not see for what they paid the cost.
As a boy, it was the day I hated war;
It caused only grief, pain and loss, I swore.
I’d never partake, never support it --
I wished war to end if we ignored it.
Childish wishes ride on butterfly wings --
We learn to not count on such fragile things.
With distrust in peace, we prepare for worse,
Blaming human nature which is our curse.
Although they did not go to war to die,
They seldom knew what else was left to try.
Their deaths are not defeat nor victory.
But enduring steps in our history.
World Turtle Day
(May 23, 31st anniversary)
If you party with a turtle today,
Please do not ask him to come out and play.
They are rather shy and won’t take it well --
They much prefer the comfort of their shell.
If you find one crossing the street so slow,
Keep in mind, he knows where he wants to go.
You might help finish his trip to safe ground,
But, ‘though it’s closer, don’t turn him around.
This day was made to help turtles be wild,
Not the captive beloved pet for a child.
You may visit in their natural home,
Then leave it clean and let them freely roam.
Thought for the Day
He thought. She thought.
He said what he thought she thought.
She thought he said what he thought.
Whether he ought
To say what he or she thought,
All that thought has come to naught.
Like Yoda We Talk
(41st anniversary of “The Empire Strikes Back” release)
Master Yoda we celebrate today --
Syntax we torture to his way we say.
Try you not only the thing you must do --
Your tongue we untwist can when you be through
In Dagobah swamp him first we do meet --
Skywalker Yoda trains, head below feet.
Away undone raw Jedi called to fly --
Swamp back he comes in time Yoda to die.
Gone then he was, henceforth one with the Force,
Later in the past returns he, of course.
Angry Anakin he trust not to train
But rash Ben Kenobi he not restrain.
Clone Army he commands, Republic fix,
But not foresee he Order Sixty-six.
Darth Sidious he duels, but failed, he did.
Into exile he went, in swamps he hid.
There him Luke finds before in the future --
Back us Lucas takes to that adventure.
As Force spirit he pops up when scripts need --
His cryptic words haunted Jedi must heed.
With you the Force be, so powerful is,
If like Yoda you learn to use talk his.
If which words you know not sentences end with,
At least do not condescend like a Sith.
You’ve Gotta Believe?
The suspect says, “You’ve gotta believe me!”
How often have we heard that urgent plea?
“Believe me when I tell you,” starts each line,
And you wonder if that is a bad sign.
“Matters of faith,” says Preacher, so aloof,
“Do not need, indeed deny, any proof!”
It will not be seen if it’s not believed,
But in such ease, your thinking is relieved.
Decide before you know untidy facts
Which from your resolved certainty distracts.
Trust what you are told and not what you think,
And you can act in a mere eye’s hoodwink.
Maybe take your time and puzzle it out,
Explore your options, consider your doubts.
What is knowable for you to analyze?
What other things are not, you recognize.
In the end, when you are done either way,
You still will need to get on with your day.
Happy Limerick Day
There once was an Englishman named Lear
Who composed poems too witty to bear
He is responsible
For so much runcible
‘Cause it was such a good word to hear.
If you ever wrote a limerick
Thinking you had a wit oh so slick,
Likely you soon did find
And to it was resigned
Even friends think you’re a lunatic
Happy No Pants Day???
The first Saturday in May
Has been declared No Pants Day --
For me it was a surprise
To see legs before my eyes.
For some alone in a room,
Or maybe meeting on Zoom,
They like to feel a small breeze
Blowing gently through their knees.
But I like to keep pants on
Even when everyone’s gone.
Maybe shyness, I suppose,
But my legs I don’t expose.
Oh no, I’m not Donald Duck
With tail feathers to get stuck.
If you want, relax that way,
But at my waist my pants stay.
That should make everyone happier!
Facing Your Fantasies
Reality is a crutch used by some
When they cannot cope with their fantasies.
To what is done they too simply succumb,
Not the suspense and hope in the breeze.
Oh, yes, I guess, it is easy to walk
On the solid ground there under your feet.
You don’t live aloft as the soaring hawk,
So you need to look when you cross the street.
But would you fly, albeit by airplane,
If none had let the mind ride on birds’ wings?
What you think of now as real in your brain
Were, once upon a time, just fanciful things.
So, pay attention to what surrounds you,
But do not ignore what might not be there.
The dreams (and terrors) which your mind can brew
May also, someday, lead you to somewhere.
Nibbling on the Neighbor’s House
When I was a kid, in our neighborhood,
There was a house with a fence ‘round its yard.
We were told, ‘though we never understood,
That with that neighbor, we should be on guard
When parents won’t tell their children the why,
Curiosity will soon make them itch.
So explanation was for us to try --
And we decided, there must live a witch.
We had heard tales how witches lived by tricks
And of the lures which into their traps led.
Her house might look like it was made of bricks,
But we knew it was really gingerbread.
The gumdrop trees grew just beyond our reach
In the lollipop garden inside the fence.
There must be owls guarding, ready to screech,
And lawn gnomes to come alive in defense.
This challenge was in need of a great plan,
One that would require all of our whole squad.
Tom, Pete, Rick, Ashley, I guess even Stan --
A perfect assault, completely unflawed.
We would have to be fast and go at night;
Two to stay behind, protecting our backs,
Two with wiffle bats if there was a fight,
And two to gather treats to fill our sacks.
But Stan had to be home before sunset,
Tom lost his bat and could not think of where,
Rick was unsure of what share he would get,
And Pete was pretty sure he did not dare.
Ashley was still ready and raring to go,
But now that great plan seemed certain to fail.
How good were the treats we would never know,
But the gingerbread was probably stale.
