JUST A ‘POEM’: WRITTEN FOR THE YOUNG CHILD

                                        I both KNOW and LOVE

 As a precious child,

You gathered rainbows:

‘Beautiful prisms

 In a curved pose’

 Perfecting their colors,

One by one,

You lifted their loveliness

 Back towards the sun…

Such arcuate grandeur,

Bejeweled by the moon;

Imbibes dappled star-light,

 Ignites threads of June.

I watch you swim softly

Through summer’s long stretch;

Moonbeams rouse fireflies,

But none could we catch…

Daydreams turn vapid,

Grasping tendrils of dusk;

We hear twilight’s last breath;

(It’s parting seems brusque).

 When morning arose,

It brought taut, somber skies,

And hinted at mysteries;

Once sodden, twice dry.

In vain, I test secrets

That still pass us by;

Too small to summon cirrus clouds,

 We’ll never know why…

Poem written by L.P.-G.

                                                             c. June 2026

WE MOST DEFINITELY REMEMBER THEIR VALOR,

   … as we surely should

                                                       

Such BRAVE folks:

We thank them!

Tough service merits praise!!

Their selfless acts

Of fearlessness,

Ensured more

Carefree days…

We honor those

Who fought for us,

With picnics and

Parades…

 

Patriotic songs

Are sung

And festive wreaths

Are laid…

Yet, Memorial events

In the “mitten state”

Are often marred

By rain…

Next year I’ll have

To venture south;

States, “north”

Are too insane!!

Poem written by L.P.-G./ May 2026

WHEN MAY-DAY TURNS COLD

 [and COLD it was!]

I ached for their fragrance

In May’s misty spray;

Yet, hope of a sighting

Soon withered to gray…

Not leaf, nor pale petal,

Would grace the damp day

As dawn flickered lightly

And waxed my dismay…

This sparked a recounting

Of Spring’s passion play;

But prized, purple beauties

Remained ‘tucked away’…

To endlessly seek them

Today, seemed in vain;

These lavender treasures

 Evade the chilled plains…

**********

I cherish an old tale

That still lines my brain:

Dear lilacs!

Sweet lilacs!

Please dance in the rain!!!

Poem written by L.P.G. / c. 2026

In honor of my late father’s birthday

[He would have turned 97 on May 1^st]

As a small child, my late paternal grandmother often recounted [to me] the story of my father’s birth in New York on a day that she remarked “the lilacs danced and kissed the rain”. That said, a cold May surely has a way of delaying their beautiful, lavender-purple blossoms.

SO IT WAS LAST NIGHT THAT I HEARD

 

Jeffrey N*c*o*a has gone

to "fly with the angels"

He and his family were my very dear neighbors when I lived in Bloomfield Hills, MI from1968 through1978...

Too surreal that I was thinking about him on the exact day that he passed...this salient fact does make me believe that we're "all  connected" somehow...

I will never forget his incredible generosity in giving me his stereo system and two prized albums [Rolling Stones' Let it Bleed ; Cream's 'Best of Cream vol.2'] in the long ago summer of 1974.

I played those albums non-stop!

You are now joined with [mother] Dot, 'Old Grandma', [your sisters] Jean, Joanne, Joye, and Judy as well as [your dear niece] Pam.

**************************

P.S. Who could ever forget that scruffy dog of yours you humorously named 'Swindle" !

And I'm sure New York is a bit more lonely now...

TRAGIC: YES, TO ME IT IS...

             

    Tragically, many Americans have come to 'bend a knee' at the altar of Mammon... i.e., an alter presided over by con artists, hucksters and outright crooks who hoodwink the ignorant via bogus promises of "wealth", security, and unfettered authority.

Yet, wandering through the travails of life, let us be forever mindful of creating more goodness than evil. As well, the "powers that be" should kindly dispense more happiness than gloom and more laughter than despair... [ just as the clown prayer says]. Indeed, I hope never to grow so 'big' as to not see wonderment in the eyes of an innocent child, or sparkle in the smiles of the aged. And if we are to become 'joyful clowns', it must be without silliness or mere frivolity....

Grant us the capacity to spread kindness, to bring authentic cheer, to make people happy, to dry their tears and make them briefly forget all the unpleasant things inescapably unfolding in their frantic lives...                       

     Also, may we place the trappings of life into proper perspective, including blind ambition and financial success. Humility is not a weakness, no matter what some deluded folks may tell you. Acknowledge those who have provided comfort and respite in the darkest of hours. We'll all come to our 'final moment' in life. And wouldn't it be magnificent to hear this sentiment whispered into the wind as we finally cross over: "When you made others smile, you made ME smile" ...

R.I.P.    R.G.P.

Born 5-1-1929; crossed over on 7-24-2009

UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR:

                        

There are no 'true' winners here

I've added my own version [below] to the throwback lyrics of the Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young hit; in other words, it's no longer about Kent State:

 

 [Chorus]:

Rage smolders and Bryan's gunning,

He truly acts on his own;

Come morning, the scene is stunning:

'Four Dead in Idaho'

[Verse]

When you get down to it,
Incel is partly to blame:

Should have been trashed long ago;
What if you knew him,
Then witnessed that scene:
How can you run once you know?

When you get down to it,
Anger is also to blame:
Should have been dashed long ago...
One mental illness; now,

"Four dead on the ground"

How can we hide once we know?

[Chorus]

Rage smoldered and Bryan listened;

He finally felt all alone;

This summer he cut a plea deal:

Four Dead in Idaho

Four dead in Idaho

Four dead in Idaho
**********************
Four dead in Idaho
Four dead in Idaho

A 'CANCER SUN-SIGN BIRTHDAY' APPEARS BEFORE OUR VERY EYES!!

                                        

That's because it's 6-24 today!

And remember this,

as well ...

*************

... and may you be blessed with many happy years ahead

EIGHT YEARS AGO, I HAD TO STEADY A PATH...

 

Sadly, it was inevitable

  'Eight years' may seem like eternity;
   Yet, that's what the calendar claims;
    Eight years ago, today, a path was gently laid:

     Life's portrait soon tossed its steel frame...

Oh, how we reminisce,

On days like today:

Her shadow peers

Through every mirror;

The silliest things

She said many times

Now seem somehow soft,

Or just clearer...

OH! THAT THING ABOUT 6-16: "BUT TOMORROW IS A NEW DAY WILL BE"

                                        

     Y-E-S !!

JUST ONE YEAR SHORT OF '30 YEARS AGO'

 

I sure did host a ton of holidays when I was younger..."Little Man" (sitting on my lap) was just 28 months old back then...It was Easter of 1996...

After hosting 68+ holiday events, I am soooo ready to pass the torch for good!!

CAN'T LET THIS MARCH DAY GO BY WITHOUT SAYING...

                                                   

                                                   

Have fun in Savannah, as well !!! 

CHANNELING MR. McCOURT TODAY !!

                           

"The master says it’s a glorious thing to die for the Faith, and Dad says it’s a glorious thing to die for Ireland, and I wonder if there’s anyone in the world who would like us to live.”    ― Frank McCourt

"When I look back on my childhood I wonder how I survived at all. It was, of course, a miserable childhood: the happy childhood is hardly worth your while. Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood, and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood.”   ― Frank McCourt

“After a full belly all is poetry.”

― Frank McCourt

“Stock your mind. It is your house of treasure and no one in the world can interfere with it.”
― Frank McCourt

“People everywhere brag and whimper about the woes of their early years, but nothing can compare with the Irish version: the poverty; the shiftless loquacious father; the pious defeated mother moaning by the fire; pompous priests; bullying school masters; the English and the terrible things they did to us for eight hundred long years ...  Above all, we were wet.”

― Frank McCourt

When I first went up to see my editor, I was with my agent, and my editor said, 'Well, what have you been doing all these years?' And my agent said, 'He's been in recovery... From his childhood.'

- Frank McCourt

Oh, the travails of being Irish !!!