The Lucky Nickel

To you I am just a nickel.  A silver colored coin of essentially no value.  You drop me on the ground and step on me as you walk away.  But, I have a history. 

I was minted in 1970. I spent my first year in “circulation” stored in a wall safe, rolled up with 39 other shiny new nickels. On the day we (us nickels) were finally freed from our roll and dropped into a cash till, I was plucked out by a strong hand and tossed into the air to the call of “heads.” The toss was followed by whooping applause. The kind old man who held me announced that I was his lucky nickel and gently placed me in his pocket. From then on, the man never left his home without me. When he was frightened, he would put his hand in his pocket and wrap me in his palm. When he needed to settle a matter, he would toss me in the air and call “heads” or “tails.” I never seemed to disappoint him.

When the man died years later, his son recognized me – his father’s lucky nickel. The son kept me in a box full of his father’s treasures and held me in the palm of his hand when he was in need of comfort. Then YOU stole the box and threw me to the street. Here I lay, watching people walk over me like a worthless piece of trash.

But wait, what’s this? A young girl is looking at me. She gently picks me up and says “oh, a lucky nickel!”

Writing Dilemma

Boredom reared its ugly head,
So I decided to write instead,
Of letting myself come undone;
And thus resulted in Chapter One.

Then life tossed so much my way,
Tasks and commitments every day;
I find I have too much to do;
How will I ever write Chapter Two?




The Happy Pumpkin

There was a happy pumpkin,
Until it got to school,
And found it left its homework,
At home atop a stool.
There was a sad pumpkin,
Sitting in its chair,
Hoping that the teacher,
Would forget that it was there.
There was a surprised pumpkin
When its mom showed up in style
And handed it its homework
With a wink and a smile.
There was an eager pumpkin
Waiting for the school bell
Ready to return home
For the news it longed to tell.
There was a happy pumpkin
To its parents it did say
That when its homework was returned
There written was an A.
Listen To The Happy Pumpkin Song

Can I be?

Can I be a pigeon,
or a gull on the beach?
Circling the tourists,
yet just out of reach.
Hoping for scraps,
they’ll toss out my way,
or a dropped sandwich,
will make a great day.

Can I be a pigeon,
or gull on the shore?
Digging up clams,
and searching for more.
The life of a shore bird,
is the life for me;
So long as the toddlers,
will just let me be.

Me In The Tree

I lost my mother to Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma over a year ago. Her dear friends planted a Red Maple in her memory at a neighborhood park, where my mother enjoyed walking and bird watching. I had the pleasure of visiting the maple this week, just as the leaves are starting to turn. It reminded me of a poem I had written when she was sick and so I am reposting “Me In The Tree.”

My feet are planted firmly on the ground,
As my toes drive deep into the damp earth;
A sturdy foundation for my erect torso.
Standing tall, my arms spread wide;
My fingers stretch toward the sky sprouting leaves.
My eyes stare as two woodpecker holes.
I wait and I watch.

For hundreds of years,
I drop seeds from my branches;
Little seedlings sprout from the ground.
My large frame protects them from the weather,
But the shadow from my canopy blocks the light,
And my seedlings fall back to earth.
I watch and I mourn.

Night and day,
Animals climb over me.
They eat from my branches and chew on my bark.
They dig out the bugs that bore holes in my trunk.
I hold their homes in my strong arms,
And protect them from the wind and the rain.
I watch and I smile.

Time goes on;
The city grows around me.
People rest under the shade of my branches,
And carve their names in my trunk.
I hold small children in my arms,
As they swing from my branches.
I watch and I sigh.

Bumped and bruised.
The night falls, as men and women 
Carry their homes on their backs
And lie on nearby benches.
Their sorrow is palpable;
Their need unfathomable.
I watch and I weep.

For days and days,
Torrents of rain pour from the sky.
The earth is sodden
And my toes lose their grip;
My ample weight pulls me down,
As I crash to the ground.
I watch and I wait.

I look to the sky;
The clouds part and the sun shines.
People come with their machines.
They admire my beauty and transform me;
Into logs and planks, I become a sturdy shelter;
A home to a kind family.
I watch and I rest.

Psychological Inhibition

Why believe it cannot be done?
Getting there is half the fun.
See the vision and follow through;
Find delight in something new.

Why believe it's been enough?
Just because the journey’s tough.
There’s yet so much to bring about;
Take a breath, release the doubt. 

Why not believe the result is imminent?
On the horizon, the reward munificent;
The gift of releasing heart and soul;
Breaking the barrier and reaching the goal.

Autumn

You are by far my favorite;
Bringing relief from the stifling heat;
Showing off all of your beautiful colors.
But how can I fully enjoy you?
Knowing that your time here is fleeting;
And dreading what is to come;
Your frigid successor is on the way.

Whirlwind

Peace, tranquility, freedom, space;
Then you arrive to take their place;
Wreaking havoc at a frenetic pace; 
A whirlwind in a competitive race.

Sucking in all that is near;
Holding on tight to all that’s dear;
Then letting go without fear;
Dissipating as quickly as you appear.

Fatigue, boredom, empty space;
Nothing here to take your place;
Moving at a solemn pace;
Losing steam in an illusory race.

Toddler

He’s just a toddler;
So they say;
Running in circles;
All about play.
But a closer look;
Will soon unveil;
A unique being;
An incredible tale.

Full Moon

What is this restlessness that disturbs my sleep?
An inner tide tugging in all directions.
I open my eyes to a light filled room, though it is not yet morning.
I rise from my bed and peek through the slats of the blinds.
My breath catches in my throat, as I behold a most spectacular sight;
A full moon winking at me through a shroud of wispy clouds.