All I Want for Christmas

World peace, or at least a reasonable

Facsimile thereof.

An end to poverty and love enough to

Go around.

Hands extended in kindness, hearts warmed

In gladness.

Food and drink to nourish every single

Child on earth.

A home for every stray, a warm place to

Shelter from the cold.

Comfort and joy.

Comfort and joy.

Peace, people.

It’s a Miracle, Maybe

If I tell you I saw Rembrandt this morning, his face staring up at me from my bathroom rug, of all places, would you think me insane or would you direct me to the proper authorities?

Had it been the Virgin Mary I’d seen, I’d know exactly who to contact. Alas, it’s a long-dead Dutch painter.

On second thought, it might not be Rembrandt at all, but instead the steely-eyed conquistador whose likeness graced the walls of my childhood home during one of Mom’s theme periods of decorating.

Although, the image bears a striking resemblance to a hat-wearing woman from a famous painting, the title of which escapes my mind, except the visage on my bath mat clearly has a mustache, and the lady in the painting does not.

But, wait. It’s none of the above.

The closer I get the more I realize it’s likely Sigmund Freud come to call. Oh, the irony.

What?!

Peace, people.

I Made My Hot Toddy Too Strong

How strong is too strong

When one crafts a hot toddy?

I remain on my feet,

Yet my writing’s rather shoddy.

I’m light in the head

And wobbly in my body

I feel perfectly sane,

But I’m acting rather dotty.

Oh, dear, I think it’s fairly clear

I’ve too much whiskey in my toddy.

Broken People reblog

This poem came up in my Facebook memories today. I’d completely forgotten about it, but I think it has merit. As I recall I’d written a part of the poem, but felt like it was half-baked. Days went by and I had an epiphany that allowed me to continue the thoughts that first compelled me to write this. Now I’m not certain if this is two poems or one poem in two parts. I just know I like it. Maybe you will, too.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2015/11/12/broken-people

Deep Thoughts About Toes and Marbles

I wrote this piece a while back. Since then, I’ve lost my marble(s) and forgot all about this exercise. Is it possible for this 65-year-old woman to regain her marbles? It’s worth a try for the sake of my toes.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2016/10/13/thoughts-while-picking-up-a-marble-with-my-toes/

Peace, people!

The Pessimistic Optimist

The pessimistic optimist believes

That the glass is half full

Of some noxious liquid.

That the grass is always greener

But the fertilizer

Is toxic

That the shiny silver lining

Is mostly worthless strands of tinsel

This, friend, is a day in the life of someone

Who counts her chickens

Before the eggs have even

Been laid.

Keeping Busy

The worst times are those

When I’m caught off guard

As I’m drifting into sleep

Or the first moments upon waking

When my primitive brain latches onto

An ugly hunger that needs slaking,

Baking ideas like malformed cookies

Question mark-shaped dough

And I force myself to move

In action there is solace;

If I’m busy, I don’t think

I Worried

That the Chicago airport would confound him.

That we wouldn’t make it into the virtual queue for a Star Wars ride at Disney’s Hollywood Studios.

I worried he’d think our family suite at the Art of Animation would be too childish, or that hanging out with his Nana wouldn’t be cool.

I worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up with my 18-year-old grandson for all the fun.

I worried about lots of stuff, but I forgot to worry about cancer.

Weird how I always seem to worry about the wrong things.

Some day Garrett and I are going to keep our vacation plans.
%d bloggers like this: