Dress up this tasty circular bread
with cream cheese, lox, or veggie spread.
A pumpernickel choice with marmalade jelly, just cried out to my empty belly.
There are too many people in this waiting line!
I arrived at 7:00 and it's quarter past 9:00!
I call out with a soft french shout,
"Quel est le problem?"
What's the wait all about?
"Le beignet......" "S'il vous plait." My bagel please, today!
Crunchy grapes, fragrant brie, so many toppings, too many to see.
These warm fine spreads will soon decorate my plate.
I would save some for you, but I just can’t wait.
My morning coffee just cried out , "Where is my companion? I might pass out"
Can you guess the treat of which I speak?
It’s a favorite of many, but not unique.
Round as a penny, near the size of your hand,
it’s MY savory BAGEL and just plain grand!
Bon appetit !
I am having one usual day, as it is, most of the days
I, a misfit, wandering around, since
the ultrasound and incubator, they are ever invasive
The world with the main theme, and the off topic, outlier
A peace, to find solace, within.
You are a tiara, a bracelet a pearl and a teardrop too
When I think about the unbridled, unbundled gone spirits, my lion cubs
They are busy in angling, somewhere, elsewhere.
They grew up too close to a Skokie Swift Childcare, they surely do.
They used to tap around the keyboards, busy and always chatterbox
They hardly open up about radiant ways, as they are always busy to pave the gaps.
On a rainy day, they will be sitting inside with their jersey whims for a newer day
And I will be, the ever undecisive, is it the sky blue or the deepest wave, a say or a may
I wish I could be sitting around you, just to see the pristine may
A butterfly stroke on a lonely morn, a red leaf, and a grasshopper day!
Do we live too long?
I have been listening to a program on TV BBC about Health service
which in Britain is said to be too costly because we are living longer?
Longevity should be celebrated and not seen as a burden
like the old should be guilty of being aged.
Portugal which a relatively poor country, take the Health service
for granted, but of course, it is a country where the timeworn are respected
When I collapsed at home in Portugal, it took the ambulance
twenty minutes to get here just in time to get my heart started again
I was fitted with a pacemaker, and it didn`t cost anything.
In Britain, the ambulance would not have been in haste, and I shudder
to think what it would have cost had I lived in the US.
We should be grateful for the National Health Service in Europe.
It is the young and the rich, who want to privatise the service,
the young because they can`t imagine getting old, the rich
because they will not pay more taxes and use private health service
of the posh kind with soft seat and no waiting line.
I`m glad I live in a civilised world where illness and cost do not include compere
where saving lives are the mark of culture.
With that waiting line
I'm not surprised you're greedy,
On fresh hearts feasting;
Planning a different fate,
Mine won't be served on a plate
wait over there
please pick a number
excuse me are you next?
There is no waiting line
He will not finish your sentences
You can pray anywhere
He listens intently
Lovingly to all that you say
He cares for you like no one else can
He has known you
Loved you intimately since before birth
Even better than you know yourself
Should you deny or forget about Him
He still waits for you
Patience
Patience is something I know that I lack,
I’m one waiting line away from a heart attack.
I want immediate satisfaction, immediate result,
I’m running a race, not dancing a waltz.
I’m always early, I’m never late,
Procrastination is something I hate.
I’m not one to sit on my hands,
My attention span is like a rubber band.
Pull me too far, I’ll snap and break,
Yet you tease me to see how much I can take.
You say “a good woman is worth waiting for”.
And you’re smiling all-the-while I’m pacing the floor.
“Patience my dear” you say with a grin,
As we walk out the door, late once again.
Evening finally comes and you’re ready for bed,
You fluff up the pillow under your head.
“Are you coming My Love?” a passionate cry,
“In a minute Sweetheart, the ballgames a tie”.
Patience!
Crooked canals seem to cancer my minds passages,
They flank my system and the first symptom is anger,
The situation goes from capable to cancelled packages.
Forgotten practices redeem the handled danger.
Turbulence in my undercarriages causes confusion in my passengers,
Nose die from 1400 feet, am i supposed to be this high?
Bodies as rag dolls grounded by seat fasteners.
Closed eyes see forgotten maydays with descending fates falling out the sky.
Mental executions refer families to the end of the waiting line,
A dead silence lays upon the room with shared fears,
Respiratory systems slow as minutes seem like days in time.
Fed violence sprouts couples of paired tears.
A simple conformation by signatures insure the act,
Marble walls to rubble as shovels hit debris from pedaled hate,
A respectable title and burial for the lost soul and a honorable plaque.
Tidal waves of numbness and weeping willows at the rest of fate.