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 Senior Options Poetry
 My Dream House
By Donald Dorne
I’d build my dream house in Hawaii,
and make it out of straw,
painted yellow, like butter.
I’d surround the house with flowers,
plants and palm trees.
I’d fill my house with modern furniture,
And pictures of different animals and flowers.
In the morning I’d go outside and walk around.
I would feed the birds,
and listen to waves of the deep, blue ocean
Every night I’d smoke cigarettes,
and stare up at the stars,
and dream the night away.
So Much Depends…
By Morton Berman
So much depends upon
My Bar Mitzvah ring.
It holds my initials,
M.B.
I’ve had it since I was thirteen,
Something to be proud of.
“Wear it in good health,”
said my mother and dad.
It feels light on my finger,
Comfortable.
It makes me feel like a man
Of the world.
I Wish
By Robert Allison
I wish I were a preacher man.
I’d be a friendly man,
And I’d tell people that I love them.
That’s what the man tells you.
I’d see people in the church,
Not all of them don’t stay awake.
Pearline, too, she goes to sleep.
I always like to hear
The preacher sing.
He sure can sing good, too.
I’d say to people,
“Be nice.
Be nice to people
And love them.”
My Dream Job
By Elizabeth Holdsworth
I’d like to be a Potholder Maker.
I’d rent out a small store
With big windows
In a small town
With very colorful potholders
Hanging on the walls.
I’d wear a pin apron,
With a notepad and pen
In the purple pocket.
I’d sit at my counter,
Answering the phone,
Taking orders,
Making supply list
And making potholders.
I’d see lacing loops of many colors,
A stack of weaving looms,
And many orders to be filled.
I’d hear the phone ringing
Off the wall,
And music of Elvis
Playing in the background.
(I work faster
when I listen
to Elvis)
I’d love that I’m very creative
And people like my work
“Potholders
25 cents”
My Name Is…
By Patty Dellarocco
My name is Patty Dellarocco
I am good, kind and thoughtful.
I am like a tree,
Flourishing and blooming
In the summer’s beautiful weather.
I treasure the memory of my first day
Going to work at the Kennedy Center.
They were kind to me,
Showing me
Where to put my lunch,
My coat.
Lois and the nun, the sister –
They were always nice to me.
I admire everyone.
I’m not greedy.
Those who taught me to appreciate
Little children in the snow
Making snowmen.
I’m glad they have some way
To pass the time,
And it makes me want to play,
If they would invite me.
My name is Patty Dellarocco.
I believe in going to church
On Saturday evenings,
In being on time,
And thoughtful
Magic Box
By Josie Susie
I wish I could give a magic box to my Family
because I love everybody.
I would make the box of acrylic, nylon and gold.
I will put into the box
music, trips to Seymour, Connecticut,
cake with icing, coffee and tea,
milk and Cream,
and a glass of H20 –
just in case you drink too much
and have a hangover –
the sounds of music, dance, songs,
seashells and clamshells,
St. Mary’s By-The-Sea.
The smell of cakes and pies,
soups and sauces,
and gravy and pumpkin pie.
The taste of almond paste.
I’ll make sure I add that everyone would be happy,
even with this disturbed world on TV,
and that they would go to heaven,
and sleep with my mother in the sky.
When I Am Old
By Diane Farrell
When I’m old, I will wear
big baggy slacks that feel comfortable,
That I can get my legs into,
and be free as a bird.
I’ll wear heavy, long-sleeved shirts
that will keep me warm in the wintertime,
and I’ll get an apartment of my own,
And spend only half of my pension to pay bills,
And the other half on books of poetry,
And say I’ve no money for clothes.
I will volunteer in a hospital,
Talking to the patients about how they’re feeling.
I will take classes in poetry at Housatonic –
Maybe with Steve Mark. I don’t know.
And I want to learn about plants –
inside flowers and outside flowers –
How to take care of them.
In the springtime I’ll have Easter lilies, and daffodils,
And a dogwood tree – pink.
You can cry in front of other people,
when you’re older,
And nobody will say anything.
No one will tell me,
“It’s silly to cry,”
Because they know
it’s good to cry – sometimes.
And I will laugh belly laughs
when somebody tells me a joke.
But now we must keep our rooms clean,
wash our clothes,
sew up holes, and tears,
and cry by ourselves.
But maybe I ought to practice now
And play a game of cards
with some of my old friends,
Drinking sodas and eating peanuts.
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