A bagel worth its salt should have
A smattering of seeds,
‘Cause sesame or poppy
Is what every bagel needs.
A pumpernickel, though, requires
Caraways mixed in
And those that we call “everything”
Most always score a win.
To anyone who orders “plain,”
I have one thing to say:
(And do not get me started
On blueberries in the way)
I understand some seed-o-phobics
Think that they deserve
A bagel in its purest state,
But what you might observe
Is most New Yorkers find that seeds,
And more than just a smattering,
Are what, with New York water,
Make our bagels really mattering.
A museum worth its salt
Has a gift shop that is cool.
If it doesn’t, I’d find fault
And be let down, as a rule.
For when I’ve seen all the art
Or the science that’s displayed,
I will often do my part
‘Til a purchase has been made.
Be it jewelry or a print
Or a postcard or a tee,
In the shop I will not stint
On a gift or treat for me.
That’s providing, like I said,
That there’s special funky stuff.
If there isn’t, well, instead,
I will stomp out in a huff.
But today, I had some luck –
Bought some earrings and a plate,
For I’ll gladly spend a buck
When some quirky things await.
My tears of elation are not tears at all.
Each one; worth its salt, worth all weight in gold.
Each one; a pearl feather, which glows as it falls,
And soaks in to settle the hope that I hold.
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