December 2021-February 2022

The reprise of Scruples # 1-18 that began in June-August 2020 ended in September-November 2021.  The first posting for 2022 comprises two new poems, “Nautical Leeway” and “A Winning Affair” plus “Soul Searching’s Right of Way” which was recently published in The Courtship of Winds, summer 2021. The website is:

       Nautical Leeway


Sailing ships follow the winds’ commands,
do as they’re told in due course,
tacked one way, another, by breezes,
adrift when none are stirring.

Boats with motors, from yachts to cruisers,
run on captain’s orders, an able bodied,
mechanically minded mate carries them out,
a crew fathoms how and when.


Ahoy the harbor, land based, water bound,
on high ground a lighthouse, offshore
a jetty that can withstand tidal waves,
the full force of stormy weather.
Large or small, it welcomes vessels
year round from all over, with a place
to anchor regardless of class.

By whatever means they navigate
across high seas and oceans;
stopping in between to rest assured,
spend down time plotting ahead.


A Winning Affair


Mon cheri,
before the waiter shows up,
let us, a seating of lovers
at a window table, behave badly…

What’s wrong with stealing kisses,
playing name the shade of lipstick,
keeping score on a napkin?

Our café’s fondly called Cupid.
The wines are cheap, service slow,
and after a stroll along the Seine,
where we can sit side by side
so close an arrow couldn’t miss.

In good taste, I pick cherry red,
second guess wild strawberries…
The fun we have doing foreplay
lasts until, tongue in cheek,
you accuse me of cheating.


Soul Searching’s Right of Way


So long as this trail wends
             over hills, down dales,
lies steeped in sunlight, babbled
              to by a passing brook…
on those grounds we spend a summer
              day, hour after hour,
until dusk comes, and with it
               a trail lurking in the dark.
Summer nights are heavenly sent—
               when the moon beams,
lone stars cluster together.
                In time, shadows show up,
some standing, others on the go—
                between then and dawn
they appear everywhere, without
                crossing our path.


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