Two hundred miles of driving
For tomorrow’s concert date,
Where we’ll watch our grandson play trombone
And get to celebrate.
It’s quite a feather in his cap
To make the state-wide band
And anyone with grandkids
I am sure will understand.
We never know how many
Chances in the years ahead
We might have to make these efforts;
I will leave “until” unsaid.
So we’re rolling on the highway
With our trusty brand-new tires,
Glad to be a part of this event
Before our time expires.
Tall and thin without a doubt
Young Johnny's all about
bound with tons of energy
Like a proud prodigy
Numbers he did count Willy nilly
Even when astride a filly
Jumping quick across a wall
All because he had the gall
Words came to him at five
Like flies to a bee hive
Rocks he stored and notes he wrote
Words of wisdom he did smote
One day while running across the Heather
He did find a beautiful feather
A warning wind stole across
But he was so engrossed
It grew dark and cloudy
And the gale blew loudly
Heavens poured and lightning struck
When he saw the wild buck
Grasping all his wit
He drew closer to it
Finding it in a hole
He released it s leg in the pole
Thus went Johnny on and on
Wet and cold he rode anon
And from this day that hap
He rode with a feather in his cap.
A black bird pecking on the ground
Seemed happy with what he had found,
Perhaps to decorate, I guessed,
A new or an existing nest.
His prize? A feather, snowy white,
Most likely loosened while in flight
From possibly a seagull’s wing
Or pigeon’s, which the wind did bring.
He grabbed his treasure in his beak
And flew away; I’d love to peek
At where, among each twig and scrap
He placed that feather in his cap.
Another night in Central Park
For Shakespeare, as the sky turns dark.
My husband made the tickets hap,
A bonny feather in his cap.
A lovely evening, weather-wise;
The park, a forest in disguise.
The actors, practiced, prepped and proud;
The audience, a New York crowd.
Yet I’m distracted from delight
Because my poem I’ve yet to write.
So here I sit before the show,
Just hoping that the words will flow.
My pencil’s poised upon the page
As actors amble on the stage
And magically, the rhymes arrive –
I am the gladdest gal alive.
I thank the stars right to the max.
From this point on, I can relax
And thrill tonight to “Much Ado…”
From this, a spot-on perfect view!
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