My song about lace is simple with holes;
it hopes for a holdout;
dandelion seeds ruin everything.
—Poet
That Pretty Ditty
Hand me a tissue
Can we beautify with lace and cotton
That sneeze
That tickle in the throat
Ah…ah
I shall not ruin
That pretty ditty
With anything not pretty
A rose, not its thorns
The seeds that blow
A dandelion, the color of the breeze
The sheets in the wind
Clothespins to pinch
The nose…ah…ah
No I shall not succumb
I shall fold my hands
Around its lace
And pray for grace
For one time
Can lead to more
And lead to sore eyes
I’d lose the face of lavender
The delicate balance of adore
Ha-ha
Hachoo
…tissue
Average people, those who don’t exist
Are well-studied, always the same
I’m sure you have some of them on the list
And they can remember your name
The less they appear to know of the subject,
The more judgements you hear from them
They really can’t holdout about it
Repeating again and again
The proof that they are mostly average
But not for themselves, they rely
On their astuteness and age
Their knowledge I wouldn't deny
In case they can’t stop I take it as a call
For a pint, maybe two, if not three
The average talks, and this saves from a fall
Into the bottomless sea.
At this bleak time of year
the earth mostly dismal appears
Bright sunshine hidden away
gray clouds cover ephemeral days
Green grass replaced by hard ground
colors mute as silence to sound...
Yet a holdout, one stubborn vine
a rose attached, red as wine
Reassures me that hearts can still sing
as Winter winds lovers' faces do sting
Last year Mariano
Made the Baseball Hall of Fame,
Unanimously, it turned out,
To thunderous acclaim.
This year is Derek Jeter’s turn,
Another Yankee star
And everyone expected him
To reach Rivera’s bar.
But no such luck, for Jeter,
With so many wins and hits,
Got elected with no problem
(Or the fans would throw some fits!)
Yet the vote was not unanimous,
For it was one vote shy
And I’d love to ask the holdout
Just one simple question – why?
I climb
I climb
I climb
but I always fall back to the bottom
I find hope
Hope looks like a hand hold
I grab on
I push myself up and it gives
I am back at the bottom
Staring into the darkness hope is fading
Time is running out
How much longer?
Can I holdout?
Will the darkness take me?
I just need one hold not to give out
Just one
So many have crumbled
Where is my hope now?
The last leaf has fallen from my tree,
tumbling to the ground, for all to see.
Brisk breezes finally blew it free
to join its brethren scattered about.
Winter's coming; of that there's no doubt,
the nights are longer, and it's cold out.
And that one leaf was the last holdout;
clinging to life to the very end.
I felt it had a message to send,
hanging there alone, without a friend.
Though Winter was just around the bend,
I was hoping the leaf wouldn't let go.
But cold Winter winds started to blow;
gathering grey clouds laden with snow.
And sudden flurries began to show,
blanketing the land in downy white.
The dead and dying, buried from sight,
Winter arrived in all of its might.
And, unable to keep clinging tight,
the last leaf has fallen from my tree.
I let Black Friday come and go.
I didn’t buy a thing.
I guess I’ll never know what joy
Such bargain deals can bring.
I drove past every single mall,
Set foot in not one store;
And so today I own exactly
What I’d owned before.
Perhaps if I were younger
Or were sorely strapped for cash,
I’d join in all that frenzy
And that eight-to-midnight dash.
But as it was, I stayed away,
Though I will not deny
A tinge of envy, ‘cause I still
Have all my gifts to buy!
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