Worst Christmas Poem Ever

I know it’s global warming
And therefore is badness
Environmentally this weather
Should make me feel sadness
But balmy Christmas temps
Only fill me with gladness

Record highs up and down
The whole Eastern coast
Is no valid reason
For anyone to boast
But for midwinter weather
I like it the most

It can snow all it wants
Some other week
With freezing cold ice
And forecasts all bleak
But for Christmas vacation
It’s this warmth I seek

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Great Blue

I think of him
As a southern bird
But up here in summer
He is not of unheard

A great blue heron
Keeps visiting the shack
At the lakefront, of course
Not the woods in the back

At dawn and at dusk
He presides at the dock
Regal and majestic
Assessing fish-stock

A symbol of self-reliance
In myth and in lore
Herons are loners
That is for sure

Which means he’s a bird
Who knows me quite well
And maybe that’s why
I’ve been under his spell

And why at my lakefront
He’s become quite a fixture
But he’s camera shy
So I don’t have a picture

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The Kayaking Blues

I hopped in my kayak
To go for a paddle
But then the rain started
And the skies, they did rattle

Okay, so I hurried
Back to my dock
As the rain quickly stopped
Like the works of a clock

I waited ten minutes
And all seemed so fine
Hopped back into boat
I’ll do better this time

But the process repeated
Itself to a tee
Of thunderstorm worries
I can’t get myself free

So at least for this evening
I’ll sit safe under cover
Perhaps then, tomorrow
For this kayaking-lover
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A Small World

No real issues
No big deal
But what’s surprising
A tad unreal

The other driver’s
A friend of a friend
And before either car
Was put on the mend

At the same party
We found ourselves
On our small accident
We chose not to dwell

It’s a small world
As this tale does attest
So it’s always wise
To drive at your best

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Get Lost

You can’t miss it!
Well, take a guess what
The phrase fills me with fear
And puts knots in my gut

If there’s a way to get lost
That’s all I will find
The landmark’s dissappeared
Drives me out of my mind

The GPS system
On my fancy smart-phone
Generally speaking
Can get me back home

But it does make mistakes
That’s what I think
And I find myself lost
Before my eyes blink

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Ode to Pacific Beach

When I die
My ghost will roam
In several places
I’ve called home

One such spot
Is San Diego
A city I left
A long time ago

Hard to believe
How young I was
When I went to CA
Just because

Decades later
Returned this week
Thought the memories
Would make me freak

Showed off to Hubby
My old stompin’ spots
But lo and behold
I still loved it lots

Kate Sessions park
And Mexican food
Here, there, and everywhere
Some surfer dude

Mission Bay
And Crystal Pier
Glad I spent
My youth right here

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Lotion Devotion

Another sign
I’m getting old
The amount of lotion
I’ve been sold

For every purpose
A specific lotion
My bathroom’s full
To overflowing with potion

They’re also found
In my purse and car
Cuz heaven forbid
I try to get far

Without my fix
Of retinol or aloe
To keep my skin
From going all sallow

Without a cream
For hands and feet
My lotion collection
Would not be complete

I have quite a few
In my fight against aging
Cuz on my face
The wrinkles are raging

But more important
Than wrinkle correction
Are those that work
On sunlight protection

Lotions for day
And lotions for night
Lotions to cure
Most every known blight

Lotions at meal time
Lotions after showers
Lotions that promise me
Superhuman powers

So please excuse me
I have lotion to apply
If I don’t do so soon
My skin might get dry

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Morocco Part Three

Ait Ben Haddou

Ait Ben Haddou

Morocco for me
Was so totally new
I need one more blog
Before I’m quite through

So please indulge me
This last poem
And then next week
I’ll stick closer to home

These pics are of
Moroccan ruins
If you ask me
Ruins are shoe-ins


For fun exploring
They get my attention
So here are a few
I think I should mention

The fort or Kasbah
At Ait Ben Haddouh
Has seen its share
Of great movie crews

Kasbahs, FYI
Don’t last too long
No matter how built
No matter how strong

The heat of the desert
Soon takes its toll
If they last a few decades
That was the goal

Here’s a ruin
From Ouarzazate
Look at what pretty
Doors and ceilings it’s got

stork at Badi Palace

The storks hang out
On this or that tower
The Badii Palace kings
Once had great power

My Moroccan adventure
Is now done
I’ll try to go back to Africa
Because it was fun

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