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Blissful silence, you alone create my perfect comfort zone A refuge from the constant chatter of the world and all its clatter Give me the silence of the tombs before the din of crowded rooms I envy monks their quiet cells away from all those decibels Modern living's noisy ways are ubiquitous these days TV screens on every wall: Do we really need them all? There is no more soothing diet Than hours on end of peace and quiet One by one they slipped away Whittling down the generations After years of holding sway at our family celebrations Always there at every turn Nudging when I'd misbehave. Sadly, I would never learn the tales they carried to the grave Now those family tales are gone Vanished like a shooting star Whittling down the lexicon we use to picture who we are I wish I'd asked them, one by one, to tell me everything they'd done The low grey sky cast a cold grey light
on the coast where I lived in my teens The air in July had a wintry bite that froze my legs in my jeans The lonely beach was a perfect place to puff on a damp cigarette Where the onshore wind would sting my face and my shoes would be soaking wet The stormy sea was a fearsome force The shoreline flecked with foam I watched as the tempest ran its course then finished my smoke and went home Please and Thank You, in my estimation Are essential pillars of civilization When I ask for something and I say please Metaphorically speaking I'm on bended knees When my wish is granted, it's my contention That a word of thanks is the right convention Not everyone, I suspect Sees this ritual as a mark of respect So if you have lemons you'd like me to squeeze I'll do it with pleasure if you'll only say please But if, when I do, you forget to say thank you I'll put you over my knee and spank you It's Monday morning and I'm still in bed I don't have Covid and I don't feel dead I'm not malingering or unusually tired It's very simple: I'm retired I just turned eighty and I wondered why I kept on working as the years sped by Was this the destiny that I desired? Without further ado, I retired I've been so lucky to be self-employed Doing the kind of work that I enjoyed I'm not laid off, I have not been fired No, none of that, I'm just retired It's Monday morning, time to rise and shine To embrace this time that's mine all mine I've kept my marbles and still feel inspired It's a whole new beginning: I'm retired Blue shirts on the bases
Red shirts on the field Who will win this baseball game Is yet to be revealed If my home team should be the one Of course I'll be over the moon Till then I am keeping an eye on the light As it fades in the late afternoon If I could choose I'd prefer not to lose But fate will decide who wins And meanwhile evening shadows fall As the slide toward twilight begins Balls are hit and runs are scored And one team takes the crown A ritual for devoted fans To watch as the sun goes down Come now, take my hand and let us wander through the streets Through the narrow winding alleys where the women hang their sheets On the avenues where traffic roars and rumbles Where a stranger smiles and mumbles And twilight time engulfs us as we roam A splash of light that splits the dark The sound of laughter in the park Windows open to the evening air when the summer heat's too much to bear And mothers call their roaming children home Here we can stroll or we can pause to peer through partly open doors At quiet rooms filled with bric-a-brac And grandma knitting in the back Boys playing marbles on their knees Girls playing jacks in twos and threes And someone making music with a comb No need to wander very far to see what made us who we are No matter what we've done or seen we're always who we've always been When no one understands me I go to the river to speak to the stones When the wind carries my words away I go to the graveyard to speak to the bones There, in the spaces between the graves The past is laid out in simple rows Telling ancient stories our tribe no longer knows What will become of us, my princess, when our language is lost? Who will describe the wild foothills where the spring water flows? Who will recall the spirits that dance in the meadows but no one sees? Stones are the bones of the mountain They remember more than the trees Fill my days with sunny skies Fill my nights with stars Tell me once again that we are on our way to Mars Fill my mind with fantasies Fill my head with dreams Tell me you are not averse to going to extremes Fill my flute with pink champagne Fill my cup with wine Let us drink our fill of each then tell me that you're mine Fill my pouch with precious stones Fill my purse with gold Tell me we'll forever be together, growing old When I feel the heat coming off the street I'm thankful for the breeze When I feel dismayed by a lack of shade I'm thankful for the trees When I spend all day at work or play I'm thankful for my bed When I think of life without a wife I'm thankful to be wed When I crave a spell at a fine hotel I'm thankful for the Ritz When I'm all alone in the great unknown I'm thankful for my wits When something wrong goes on too long I'm thankful when it ends When I contemplate my happy fate I'm thankful for my friends And one last thing I would like to say: I'm thankful to be here on Thanksgiving Day |
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