MYSTICAL HOME, a poem

Home is for the aged forlorn

a mystical memory

of waking to mother

in the childhood kitchen

making breakfast

Waking in girlish happiness

anticipating a happy day

walking with friends to school

ice skating in the park

enjoying a hot chocolate

If only we could

fetch that girlhood scene

to the present moment

to salve the endless ache

for the mystical home

          (Nov. 11, 2018)

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HAPPY THOUGHTS, a poem

In tortured times

think happy thoughts

the easiest sources

lie in your idyllic

childhood memories

Mine: going with my father

all alone to Coney Island

the pleasure of my mother

welcoming me home with love

at the end of the school day

Picnicking  with  my sister Gloria

Bicycling with my brother Bill

Lunching with my sister Miriam

Campbell’s tomato soup

and oysterettes

          (Jan. 6, 2018: During World War II, my mother was still at work for a company catering to defense plants when I came home from school for lunch and at the end of the school day. She would leave lunch, soup and a sandwich, on the kitchen table for my sister, Miriam, and me. I was 11 when the war ended, her job along with it. I can still clearly recall the pleasure of finding her home once again.)

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