The Great Neck Choral Society

Evening eight a purple moment,
with rhythms rapture sent.
Cicadas whirring.
Sunlight blurring.
 
The air prepares for dew.
The sky dilutes its blue.
 
My love sits in her garden chair,
an unread book lying there,
eyes horizon bound,
ears with summer sound.
 
Night slides in on slippered feet.
Cool air overcoming heat.
 
I am suffused with pastel color,
reflective in deep soft languor,
a bird glides silent to the ground,
then sprightly hops just one last bound.

These first things are only part of it, 
the overlong sleeves with soiled cuffs,
the stocky build,  paucity of chit-chat,
baseball throws going wild, 
 
the last to be picked for games,
girls changing direction near me,
snickering looks at my violin case,
“Four Eyes, Four Eyes,” hurled…
 
So I got good grades,
beat all contenders in ping-pong,
won most checker or chess games,
became a good companion for the elderly…
 
I’d have given them all up
for a homerun,
a slap on the back
from the agile.

Crackly warmth of fireplace
spaghetti curled on tines
Mozart tugging, baby hugging
snow-caked wintry pines
 
Clinging warmth of woolen sweater
limpid spaniel eyes
lover's touch
whipped cream covered pies
 
Smell of springtime wafting
shelving books in line
happy ending, eating pending
solving co and sine
 
Forty push-ups newly gained
compliments to soothe the brow
sporty shirt and healing hurt
value spurting on the Dow
 
Scrambled eggs and creamcheesed bagel
Degas, Monet, Renoir, Klee
Itzhak bowing, guests now going,
listening to what I say
 
Put the pieces
together right
I will sleep
so good tonight

... sits on the park bench
with some liquid
perhaps hot
or cold
 
with bubbles or flat
clear or cloudy
 
once useful 
assuaging thirst
giving sustenance
warmth to the holding hand
 
there it stays unobserved
except by passing glance
 
then
it was taken
leaving
a fluid disc
 
that magic figure 
with endless pi
 
evaporation
leaving a thin loop
without beginning or end
until rain washes it off
 
a ring still remains
embedded in the wood
 
 
the removers come
take each old plank
heave it into a maw
and with a giant roar
grind it to mulch.

The dinosaur walks
with lumbering grace
He shakes the earth
a smile on his face
 
"What power I have,
such bulk and strength.
I'm master here
in size and sense."
 
A bee then stung him
on his side
It itched so much
he writhed and cried
 
He went to scratch
with his long tail
His tries were all
to no avail
 
The desperate giant
sought relief
wiped his eyes
with a handkerchief
 
A little snake with kindly eye
saw the problem, said, "Oh, my!
I'll climb up on your massive leg
and cover you with mud, don't cry."
 
For a little while it felt so good
his tight curled nerves unkinked
but sadly was his joy too short
for soon he was extinct
 
The lesson to be learned
when pain goes--shout hurray.
And remember all the while
to live each day by day