"I think nobly of the soul." (Twelfth Night)

This morning, as promised, I had a program in the Terrace Room for the Library Club. The theme was that poetry need not just come in the form of a "poem" but can be found anywhere in nature; the Florida full moon, Astaire and Ginger dancing, Gene Kelly singing in the rain, a newborn baby. One need only sharpen all the senses to make many things in life--poetry. Touching a loved one is poetry; smelling the aromas of a bakery is poetry; seeing a flock of birds in formation is poetry; eating a six lb. lobster is poetry; hearing Streisand sing is poetry. You have these extraordinary senses--use them and create poetry for your SOUL. Well, anyway I did an hour's worth of readings before an enthusiastic and spellbound audience of about three guys and twenty women. I could have done another hour's worth, but they refused to toss anything into the hat as I passed it around.

Now that that's over, I do look forward to my blogs. If I'm not writing something, I go mad. Otherwise I'm playing Jewel Quest on the computer, and that game alone is going to drive me to drink. Rhoda and I have reached an "upper" and more difficult level, and you can spend an hour on one "solitaire" hand and not be able to finish clearing all the cards from the "table". It's addictive, frustrating, but strangely enough--relaxing.

Tonight we are going to a "Boomers' Club" meeting in the Clubhouse, and they'll be serving Philly Cheese Steak sandwiches. I haven't a clue as to why they call themselves Boomers except perhaps they created them??? The real boomers I suspect are still working.