Second Story Scuffle

Scurrying, squeaking, scuffing the floor;

Our mice have never been this rambunctious before!

What is their dispute? What can be the cause?

Why do they maul one another with their sweet little paws?

At what moment will they reach peace?

Is it when their squeaks do finally cease?

Or will there be much left undisputed

In the land of meece?



Hotel awnings,

Warm me up!

Radiate heat

From my scalp to my feet.

Your nose it stings;

My face frozen stiff;

Giving a whole ‘nother meaning

To “stiff upper lip.”

Stop underneath the shining lights,

Raise my face and smile;

Thank you New York,

Both for your cold places

And the ones that relieve for a while.



A couple of numbers stick with me:

86, 343 –

Don’t know why these numbers I always see,

But the latter is 7 to the power of 3.

I am not seeking divination;

No number can ever provide salvation;

It’s just a simple observation

Of pattern, as well as multiplication.


Who Will Blaze the Frosty Trail?

What do I do with myself?

It isn’t easy to say –

I’ve lived only a little while;

None of my hairs are grey.

I haven’t seen many loved ones pass,

Nor has there been one gone before me

To trail blaze the wilderness ahead,

Clear footprints graciously forming.

Good King Wenceslas had a good page

Who tread in his footsteps boldly

It seems my King has left His footsteps too,

But it feels I am looked upon coldly –

While I was busy

Not knowing what I knew,

Gusts of thick snow

Swiftly over the footprints blew.



With one glance seduce every soul do I,

In a trance take in my big eyes you do.

Most marketable and awe-worthy am I;

Offer up silver sacrifices for me the foolish mortals do.

If loyal to me you eternally be,

Then you are not of the few;

If resist my charms resolutely you do,

Strong in the Force are you.

Favorites Poetry


I skip along the stretch of beach and step upon a stone,

I pick it up, skip it on the tousled waters –

I’m most together when I’m alone.

Turning over weathered clam shell fragments,

Never know what I’ll find –

Maybe someday I’ll find a treasure

And be worthy to call it all mine.

Deep periwinkle, royal purple –

Whatever be the hue,

It’s not the amount, but the intensity

That lends its value.

Quality over quantity –

I think that’s my favorite rule;

Evaluating wampum

Is not a job for any fool.