NARRATIVE POEMS ORIENTAL PRINCESS I saw her tiny Oriental face In the toy store yesterday Sitting peacefully In a pink stroller Shyly smiling at her mommy While she picks out Just the right book For her sweet baby girl. Browsing at touch books With fuzzy pictures of baby animals Talking Barney, Elmo and Pooh books So many playful treasures to choose from. But from a distance The Oriental princess Focuses her attention On a burly white-haired man Wearing a cherry red suit. When he comes closer Her face is beaming with delight As he gives her a small panda bear Which she lovingly clutches. Mommy smiles and thanks the man For the special gift He has given to her daughter And then heads over to the checkout counter To make her final purchase. RAY'S CAFE The lonely old man came by the cafe Every week Clad in tattered blue jeans A red plaid flannel shirt Dingy white tennis shoes His white straggly hair Hidden underneath a tight baseball cap Wearing a yellowed tooth grin He was always eager for someone To sit down with him For a chat and cup of coffee And after talking awhile Tears would begin to well in his Tired old eyes As he would recount Memories of his happy youth When he would help his father Plough the fields And go swimming in the river With his friends In the summertime When he first fell in love With his wife, Violet And the happy years that they spent together Caring for the needy Traveling to foreign lands And raising three children But when all his loved ones passed on This lonely old man Almost gave up on life By shutting out the world Until one day Someone finally took the time To sit down for a chat and cup of coffee At Ray’s Cafe. SUMMERTIME DREAMS In the middle of a frigid January blizzard I dream of sunbathing on a beach in July Letting the sizzling summer rays Turn my ivory skin golden brown Lightening my hair to strawberry blonde Letting the frolicking waves tickle my toes As I wade in the ocean surf Picking up colorful nautical treasures In the rippled silken sand Eating juicy slices of pink watermelon Drinking glassfuls of freshly squeezed lemonade Lying on a big blue blanket Reading a spine-chilling novel Writing letters to distant friends Or gazing at handsome muscular lifeguards As they save swimmers from drowning Watching seagulls scavenging for fish Suddenly the shrill sound of my alarm clock awakens me From a peaceful slumber But soon, it won’t be long Before winter’s siesta begins to fizzle And summer’s fiesta starts to sizzle. TRUMPETER'S TORMENT A lonely old man plays his trumpet in torment On the corner of Second Avenue and Beach Drive In St. Petersburg, Florida. Expressing notes of sorrow and anguish Wishing his troubles would evaporate Like the languid summer heat. Nowhere to run No one to turn to He toots out tunes of torment Like there was no tomorrow Never once believing that his life Would get any better. But before his mournful eyes A beautiful young girl walks over to him With a smile so radiant And a heart so generous When she gently drops the crisp green bills In his empty tattered black hat His notes of melancholy quickly vanish Metamorphosing into a melody of euphoria. VINTAGE VIGNETTE Every Friday after Thanksgiving, My family takes a shopping excursion To Vidler’s 5 & 10 Store on Main Street In the quaint town of East Aurora, New York. Inside the gingerbread-trimmed building With the red and white awning We attentively browse two overflowing floors Of unique gifts and treasures. There is something for everyone from vintage to contemporary: Buster Brown Socks, shoelaces and bandanas Curlers, change purses and cold cream Hairnets, hosier and hairpins Collectible tins, kitchen gadgets and picture frames. All occasion boxed and rack cards Assorted gift wrap and multicolored stationery Gourmet tea, coffee and soup mixes Unfinished wood items, beads and jewelry Fabrics, yarn and buttons Holiday décor, dolls and teddy bears. Scented candles, soaps and potpourri Waft through the nostalgic air As women happily sort through trays of craft supplies Silk flowers, craft ribbon and wicker baskets. All around the delightful sounds of shopping can be heard: The old brass cash registers Ring up dozens of daily purchases Children laugh and play in the aisles A little girl munches on a bag of 10 cent popcorn While riding Sandy the Mechanical Horse And a young lad pays a penny for his fortune From the antique fortune machine. Tiny tots hover over old-fashioned candy jars Filled with colorful edible jewels of savory confections: Necco Wafers, Mallo Cups and Sugar Daddies Crimson jawbreakers and rainbow gumballs Licorice all-sorts and anise bears Rock candy and salt-water taffy. Mothers and daughters examine Embroidered handkerchiefs, satin gloves and scarves While young men bounce fluorescent rubber balls On the store’s hardwood floors As they playfully snatch handfuls of marbles and plastic dinosaurs From a toy bin smorgasbord. Eager little girls squeal excitedly for pretty baby and paper dolls Waiting to be plucked off the shelves Boys delight themselves with yoyos, kazoos and model cars While fathers search for rare household tools and woodworking materials. Brothers, Bob and Ed Vidler magically appear In their red and white aprons Warmly greeting customers With merry smiles, sparkling eyes and enthusiastic humor Assisting everyone in their merchandise selections. With over 15,000 square feet of retail space This third generation family business Continues to grow in size and popularity All the while preserving its original 1930’s character and charm. Vidler’s has made a legendary mark on the shopping map As one of the largest 5 & 10 stores you’ll ever visit. Stop in and take a walk down memory lane In this beautiful wonderland of vintage charm and unhurried bliss. You’ll be sure not to exit empty-handed! YESTERDAY'S CLOCK Our paths have not crossed In nine years time There was never a chance For us to say goodbye. You disappeared unobtrusively Like melted snow in March Leaving behind a puddle of bewilderment To those who made your acquaintance. I miss your happy-go-lucky nature Like a four-leaf clover Your carefree stance Like a soaring albatross Your artistic flair Following in the footsteps Of Renoir and Degas Your comical lines That outwit Jeff Foxworthy Your literary passion for words Mellifluous like Lord Byron. Yet beneath the bright surface Lies a dark cave of cobwebs Revealing a silhouette of sadness Hidden within the lonely trenches of pain Unable to face reality’s misfortunes You escaped into a reclusive cubbyhole To find inner utopian happiness. Your pain punctures my heart Like a fresh gunshot wound Oh, how I wish to erase Your suffering like a disposable chalk board Starting over from scratch With a clean slate But the pendulum keeps swinging Inching time forward Into a continuous cycle Of unforeseen change. Though there are still regrets Of not opening The forbidden door of passion Like that late evening in May. While strolling the cobblestone streets Of Paris, France You lured me with your debonair charm Playfully flirting with your mocha eyes And diamond smile. Our hands brushed lightly together Like a cluster of fluttering butterflies Then spontaneously separated Like repelling magnets Apprehensive about where This immediate affinity Between us Might proceed. Whether the by product Of this brief encounter Would end in happiness or heartache. But the watchband of time Ticks onward Leaving me With the fanciful afterthought Of re-connecting with you someday. I envision our partnership Being as beautiful As a white swan Gliding through the lake Vibrant like the feathers Of a coral flamingo Mystical as a tropical rainstorm In the Amazon jungle And deeper than the base Of the Grand Canyon. Though we are separated By the outskirts of time Your face still appears In the looking glass of my soul Magnifying my desire To unite with you tenfold And reverse the pendulum’s lilt Of yesterday’s clock.