Sonnet 12 - The Hands of the Diligent

THE HANDS OF THE DILIGENT

For Jennie's graduation from Gettysburg College, May 19, 2013

A score and three years ago we brought you forth

and here, where the South once lost to the North,

your family has come just to celebrate you

at your Hillel House digs, you counterfeit Jew!

You’ve read foreign books and know what they mean,

you’ve rucked with the ruggers and bled with the team,

you’ve studied with scholars at the Sorbonne --

at Myrtle Beach played in sand and in sun.

Though your life here consisted of opposite poles

you've played hard and worked hard to get to your goals.

You speak French and Spanish, sometimes you talk bawdy

and now you can say that you finished cum laude

The hands of the diligent receive their prize

and the wise that are taught, grow only more wise!

Sonnet 11 - Birth, Luck, Love

For Betsy, Mother's Day 2013 

Spring comes to Massachusetts once again;
on the green the Garden Club sells flowers.
Women with horticultural powers
chat and smile beneath tarps in the rain.

The nascent blossoms of these stylish wives,
with petals wiggling under gentle showers,
like playing children favored with endowers
of all they need to lead successful lives.

While in the gritty neighborhoods nearby
this same rain falls down on the vacant lots,
and on the community garden plots,
where vegetables conspire to reach the sky.

Our lot in life depends upon our birth,
a bit of luck, and love from Mother Earth.

Sonnet 10 - Sabbath Sonnet

For Betsy, Christmas 2010

The bathroom mirror shows them both the truth:
that lines are growing deeper on each face.
He trims a beard made gray from vanished youth,
while she puts every colored hair in place.

Then in their Sunday best they head downstairs,
He drinks a cup of coffee, she drinks tea,
then they're off to join the choir which prepares
an anthem sung in four-part harmony.

And when the choir’s gone home, and evening comes,
they're both back in the bathroom before bed,
she leans against him gently while he hums,
saying, "All day long that song's been in my head".

So the blessed tie that binds them in affection,
is ageless as a tune, upon reflection.

Sonnet 9

For Matt

If there were a land where everybody’s
personality was just like yours,
fervently engaging in deep studies
of Ticket to Ride and Risk, ignoring chores;

and in this made up country made of Matts,
where mathematics is deep mystery,
the citizens (who love their dogs and cats)
would know their nation’s noble history.

Well, no man is an island thankfully,
so those of us who were not born performers
fill up arenas so that we can see
the onstage histrionics of you stormers,

who with your amplifiers on eleven
go wailing, wailing in electric heaven.

Sonnet 8

For Mark

Across the screen the stick man takes a stroll
‘til toppled by a tortoise in his path
due to forces out of his control
set by his maker’s algorithm’s math.

The stick man’s maker is a patient man
compressing lots of logic in a line
inspiring a team to execute a plan
barking at the few who moan and whine.

Yet when he’s put in charge he’s not content;
eventually it makes him feel tied down.
He much prefers the burning grassy scent
and growing vegetables on rural ground.

His deepest ties in fifty years of life
Were to his loving mother and his wife.

Sonnet 7

For Suzy

Never an early bird, she loved these red
pajamas she got, with robins on top,
Sunday mornings staying cozy in bed.
We nicknamed her Red Robin. She said, "Stop.

You have to call me Suzy." Though just four
years old, she was determined to be strong.
To take a stand on principle was more
important to her than getting along.

But never did this cozy girl act lazy--
she raised four kids while often working nights
to earn a Ph. D., while during days she
drafted budgets and patched up wounds and slights.

She's slow to rise, yet quick to laugh, and still
she takes her stands with a determined will.

Sonnet 6

For Betsy Locke

The seasoned teacher and her family
live in a neat white house out on the land.
She has no time for phony subtlety;
she clearly wants her life and lessons planned.

Through springtime’s flood, and summer’s swarming flies,
the fall of chicken coops, and winter’s bills,
her teaching helped the dairy enterprise
extract cash from these green and muddy hills.

But in her house the mud was not allowed,
her vacuum is what nature quite abhors,
the fly that’s found inside is duly cowed,
and all her children learned to do their chores.

And she’ll still teach, far from the high school scene,
the lessons of hard work and keeping clean.