Scotty and the Bear Hug

The hug heard round the world, it was

But Scotty Van D didn’t know

When the leader of the free world

Stopped by his pizza joint

Where his uplifting message would go.

The hug wasn’t planned

 Wasn’t cleared by the prez

And even Secret Service was surprised

They saw teddy bear man 

Caught up in the moment

And stood down

While they watched their boss rise.

The hug brought a smile

To the people who saw

And the photo and the man were a hit

When Scotty Van D made the rounds

Of the media circus

We wondered if his head would still fit.

Coming back to Fort Pierce

Through the pizza joint’s door

Scotty brought his fame and his joy

But he shared all his bear hugs

Like he’d always done before

With every friend

Every girl, every boy.

Fame wasn’t all roses

With Election Day approaching

The far right feared

A positive press.

Still our Scotty took the high road

(I’d like to think it’s my road)

And delivered pizza pie to the rest.

Dog Walk

The dogs' morning walk.

May be their favorite thing.

They trot along beside me,

Hunting lizards,birds and bunnies.

Today, they saw something new

A gray tiger cat just a few doors down

Sunning himself in the drive

What!  What!  I could see the wheels

Turning inside their poodle brains.

It was not our gray tiger cat, of course

Clyde passed away this summer

He was almost 17

Our first pet as a family

Pre-dog.

Still Clyde had been king of the back porch

He wandered the neighborhood proud

Everyone stopped to greet him

He loved poodles and people alike.

The dogs looked for Clyde on the porch for days

After he was no longer there.

The teens understood the cat had died

To the dogs, he had just disappeared.

As we approached the other gray cat

The poodles wagged their stubby tails

Cookie did her happy dance

Mack pulled ahead to greet the cat.

A friend of Clyde’s, perhaps they thought?

The new king of the porch? But no.

When the cat turned and ran away

Instead of running to greet them

They knew.

I had not hidden Clyde away

This was no switcheroo

We were a family

Without a cat

And now the dogs knew it, too.

A Haiku For Our First Lady

She is my hero
I vote Michelle Obama 
Buy one, get one free.

Marathon Fibs

Pounding your six-pack abs

You felt the need to lie

To make your run faster, greater

Oh, VP nominee, why?

I suspect a character flaw

That makes you insecure

You couldn’t just say you’re a runner

You had to embellish more.

For those of us lifelong runners

Who have run for miles and years

Your little white lie was serious

Not the accident it first appeared.

Who hasn’t rounded their finish time

To the next greater minute or mile?

But to take an hour off your finish time

What does that imply?

It tells me that you’re a fibber

Who thinks he’ll never get caught

I blame it on your mother

And worry those lessons untaught.

Mistakes

No one is perfect

We all make mistakes

Some are bigger than others

Like the college football player

Who scooped up the ball

And ran the wrong way

Not just a little, but a lot

Fifty-eight yards is a long way

To run the wrong way.

And I thought

Here’s the first college football

Game of the season and look

He’s already made his mark

On national TV

Sorry.  Not sorry.

So don’t whine to me

About sending a stupid text

Or two or twenty.

Or forgetting to return

A library book for six months.

Yesterday’s mistakes

Are tomorrow’s lessons

If you play attention to them.

And besides,

Did you run 58 yards the wrong way

On national television? 

Song of Cassie

She isn’t my daughter

At least of my blood

But I could not love her any more

If she was.

She comes as a pair

And I love her twin, too

He’s the voice of conscience

In her carefree world.

Ahh, but Cassie

Is so full of sparkle and fizz

That her cup runneth over

You can’t rein her in…

For all of her life

She will always be

The girl everyone

Wants to see.

The Bubble

Near to nine months large, baby boy in my belly

I cried to my doctor, take him out

Save him now.

A friend had discovered, that her baby was dead

Unborn boy strangled in her womb

By her own deadly cord. How?

Oh, sadness  Oh, fear!

Doctor patted my hand

Said, he’ll never be safer than he is in your womb.
Now, I understand.

I’ve thought back on those words as my two babies grew

The first concussion
The first broken bone

The first time my daughter was carried off the field.

As they grew into teens 
And drove off on their own

I cried about rain, and the highway too slick

I prayed for a bubble to keep them safe.

The best friend’s betrayal, the breakups, the heartache

The knowledge that although they tried

That sometimes they won't win the game or the part
And my own heart broke
When they cried.

There is no charm or guarantee of safe haven

I raised them to go off on their own.

If there was a bubble to keep harm at bay

Would I save them from themselves?

Or let them find their own way?