You’re not here on yesterdays.
You’re only in tomorrows.
You only work on certain days.
You lengthen all my sorrows.

I’ll do it tomorrow,
The theme song goes.
I’ll do it tomorrow,
The day draws to a close.

Tomorrow comes,
But now it’s today.
I’ll do it tomorrow,
Just put it away.


Tap Dancing In The Dust

There he stands, one of my five,
Jumping around and so alive.
Face is bright as he stares,
Moving around with nary a sound.

Second base, where he stands
Is a million miles away.
As he kicks up dust
And his mind won’t stay.

There he goes into the world of mystical deities,
Whirling and running, oblivious to plays.
When suddenly, a voice pierces through his dreams.
“Jon, What are you doing? Acting weird, it seems!”

He stands still and quiet,
As he knows he must.
But his mind goes on,
Tap dancing in the dust.

The North Sea

The North Sea… these words
Bring great excitement to me!

I see schooners’ billowing sails
Blowing about the skies.
I see an ice blue sea
With waves a mile high!
I see anxious old tars
With sea water in their veins.

I see love of the sea
And the attendant pains.
I see love of a world
That is new and yet old.
I see winters cruel
And miserably cold.

And as a sail breaks
And tears through the sky,
I get the feeling the old tar
Is none other than I!


Wherever did that person come from
Who called herself my name?
Whatever did she think
As she played this secret game?
And where was I,
That I let her slip into my role so well,
Was I conducting myself
Throughout her own private Hell?

I’m a girl who laughs, not cries,
Who climbs above her pain.
Friends love to have me near
To lift their spirits weary.
How dare that probable one
Become so very near me?
Until I felt that I was just a dream self
And my spirit just pretend.
She permeated my cells
Transmuted to her own.

But did I, in becoming her,
Lift other hearts with laughter
And cast away their gloom?
Have we just exchanged places
While switching living rooms?
Perhaps she lent me seriousness
While I supplied the lightness.
Now we’ll each be balanced
And combine them both to brightness.


I often sit and look at you, hiding within that frame.
I often sit and feel like we’re playing a little game.
Are you really a dog?
You look like a dog.
You bark like a dog.
Yes, sometimes,
You even act like a dog

But, yet, as I wonder…
You are too wise,
My canine psychologist.
You know when to comfort.
You remain so silent and listen, not talk.
Even tho’ we all know you are trilingual.
You speak Spanish, English, and Dog!


Why are cups round on top
Instead of a perfect square?
Helps to get the coffee down
And not upon your hair.
Dribble, Dribble, between my braces,
Is the happy flow.
Help! I cannot stand this anymore!
Where did all my manners go?

On The Fritz

Oh my, my mind is on the Fritz.
Words elude me, spinning in my brain.
How can I forget the very same things,
Over and over again?

Where are all the names for all the “Wutchcombs”,
As Nanny used to say?
Descriptions elude me,
As does everything else.

Which side of my brain is most affected,
Or could it possibly be both?
My very quick mind slows down in reverse,
And churns up fog all over the place.

Where are my ideas?
My solutions to world problems?
My verbal fluency is thing of the past…
Both my very best …and my very worst trait!