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Best Ilene Bauer Poems

Below are the all-time best Ilene Bauer poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Share Not

When I go out to dinner,
I do not want to share.
I don’t care what is on your plate;
I don’t want to compare.

I scan the menu up and down
And then make my selection.
When it arrives, it’s meant for me
And not for your inspection.

“You want to taste my fish?” I’m asked.
Some people never learn;
For then the expectation is
To taste mine in return.

And so the answer’s always No!
Yet comments never cease.
“Your fries look really good!” They are,
So let me eat in peace!

Each morsel on my dish is mine
And I intend to finish.
Perhaps my attitude will make
Your thoughts of me diminish.

I’m sorry if that is the case – 
Dessert I’ll split just fine;
But when the meal’s delivered – 
You eat yours and I’ll eat mine!

Copyright © ilene bauer

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Life is a Dance

Sometimes life is such a bore we run on automatic;
Then it’s time to tango for a dash of the dramatic.
Or when things are dull and only gusto will suffice,
We cha-cha or calypso to inject a dose of spice.

We hustle off to work each morning, foxtrot through the day
And hope that time’s electric slide just melts the hours away.
At clock-out time we say goodbye and jitterbug on out;
We hokey-pokey home because that’s what it’s all about.

Some easy days we waltz on by; we’re caught up in the swing
And lindy-hop or tap our way through all that life can bring.
We may go round in circles or, to deal with our despair,
Find someone we can partner with and do-so-do with flair.

For life is like a dance and we are held within its sway;
We dip and twirl and fake the steps, from polka to ballet.
The music of the atmosphere imbues us with its beat
And if we choose to hear it, we just follow with our feet.

Copyright © ilene bauer

Details | Ilene Bauer Poem |

The High Line

Elevated railroad tracks
Abandoned long ago
Have been transformed into a place
Where grass and flowers grow.

With benches made of wood or stone
And artwork interspersed,
The desolation and despair
Have all but been reversed.

If visiting the city
Is a plan that you have made
Then walk upon the High Line
And behold what’s there displayed.	

It’s part and parcel of the town
But also quite unique
So stroll the High Line if
A New York feeling’s what you seek.

Copyright © ilene bauer

Details | Ilene Bauer Poem |


Come wrestle with a gator!
Said the poster at the fair.
With tape around its mouth, it looked
Pathetic in its lair.

Yet in a cage adjoining it,
A tortoise ambled 'round,
Its movements sure and steady,
One foot lifting off the ground.

With claws extended, it appeared
To glide on tippy toes;
Its ancient eyes gazed straight ahead,
A true reptilian pose.

The children leaned and stroked its shell.
It didn't seem to mind,
Although I'm sure it would have liked
A stroke from its own kind.

That tortoise kept on moving,
Though perhaps to help prepare
For a coming-soon encounter
With an unsuspecting hare!

Copyright © ilene bauer

Details | Ilene Bauer Poem |


I look into the mirror
And feel sad at what I see – 
A wrinkled replica of
A more vibrant, younger me.

On certain days, it’s not so bad;
Perhaps the change is subtle?
But looking at a photo album,
There is the rebuttal.

For just a year or two ago,
I think I looked okay,
At least a whole lot better
Than how I appear today.

But hey – a face is like a map
That marks the paths we’ve chosen
And all the ruts and potholes, well,
They sure beat decomposin’!

Copyright © ilene bauer

Details | Ilene Bauer Poem |

Golfers Beware

If a golfer who’s clumsy and falls
Loses grip on the clubs that he hauls
	He'd trip on a trap
	With wood in his lap
And have problems in finding his balls!

for Craig Cornish's limerick contest

Copyright © ilene bauer

Details | Ilene Bauer Poem |

Tennis Undies

Gussie Moran, a tennis star,
Created quite a stir
When she wore lace-trimmed underwear,
Created just for her.

In 1949 this was,
On Wimbledon’s staid courts;
The British folk were scandalized,
According to reports.

Designed by Teddy Tingling,
A tennis pro and Brit,
The all-white skirt (above the knees!)
Had newsmen in a snit.

They said she brought “vulgarity”
And even, more so, “sin”
Into a sport that prior
Only let the proper in.

Along with her obit, there was
A photo of her wearing
These very clothes; to us, today,
They’re anything but daring.

But bravo to this fearless gal!
Her charms she did assert
When she gave fans at Wimbledon
A shock beneath her skirt.

Copyright © ilene bauer

Details | Ilene Bauer Poem |


Morning is a question mark – 
Serenity or drama?
Afternoon’s a semi-colon,
Period or comma.

If the day’s routine,
You’d list its parts behind a colon:
Ordinary expectations 
Keep those hours rollin’.

Hyphens give one pause, though things
May not be out of joint.
What you must be careful of’s
The exclamation point.

For this little bugger
May show anger, joy or fear.
Many people would prefer
It never would appear.

Punctuation rules the day
And shows us what we’ve got.
Nighttime comes and then we’re left
With dot and dot and dot…

Copyright © ilene bauer

Details | Ilene Bauer Poem |

Without a Doubt

Without a doubt the sun will rise.
The gym rats all will exercise.
The candidates will tell their lies
‘Cause that’s what life’s about.

Without a doubt the dawn will break.
Someone will make a huge mistake.
There’ll be some sadness – hearts will ache;
Of sorrow, there’s no drought.

Without a doubt the day will end.
Someone will make a brand-new friend
While others find some rules to bend;
Both good and bad will sprout.

Without a doubt the moon will show,
Sky will darken, stars will glow.
From poets’ pencils, words will flow
For they can’t do without…

Copyright © ilene bauer

Details | Ilene Bauer Poem |

My Wallet

My wallet has credit cards
And my I.D.
(My license to drive
With a picture of me.)

My library card and
My store discount stash
Share limited space with
My limited cash.

Insurance I.D.'s,
Safety pins and receipts
Nestle next to my photos,
Such room-hogging treats.

Appointment reminders,
My pass for the Zoo
Stretch the leather along with
My Garden pass, too.

Add a band-aid and stamps 
And a bunch of loose change;
When I take out my wallet,
Folks look at me strange.

I bought a small pocketbook - 
Thought I would try it -
But first off, my wallet
Must go on a diet!

Copyright © ilene bauer