I knew you were bad news,
Before we were introduced,
But your one-of-a-kind allure,
Caused the value I placed on those rumors to be reduced.

My favorite days,
Are the ones of which you are a part,
Everything about you is refreshing,
You’re a true work of art.

Diet Coke, Diet Coke,
It’s you I adore,
You are my guilty pleasure,
That I too-often long for.

Breaking Up With a Realtor

Where to begin?
We hope you’re okay,
If not right now,
You will be some day.

We had to do,
What we had to do,
Which meant walking away,
From the investment and you.

With the venue booked,
And the dresses picked out,
With plans for the flowers,
It’d be reasonable to pout.

But walking away,
Two weeks before,
Is better than running back down the aisle,
Then slamming the door.

It does make us sad,
That this dream had to die,
It seems like no explanation,
Is a good enough “Why.”

We’ve sure learned a lot,
And you likely have as well,
Even if right now,
You want to yell.

Just remember:
It was us, not you,
That gave up on this gem,
And caused the plan to fall through.

There are plenty of fish,
Left in the sea,
And one will eventually want,
To buy your property.

Next time will be better,
You’ll find someone new,
That will be equipped and prepared,
With lots of cash and a crew.

Thanks for your help,
We had a great time!
(This is the end,
Of this cheesy rhyme).

Waiting With a Broken Heart

And just like that,
You went as fast as you came.
I’m here spinning and waiting,
Hoping you will come back again.

Usually I’m indecisive,
And I go back and forth,
But when I first set sights on you,
My love involuntarily ran its course.

I knew I was helpless,
The current was pulling too hard,
So I jumped all in,
No reservations, nor looking ahead far.

Now here I sit,
All alone on the couch,
With only a quiet prayer,
Whispering from my mouth.

“Lord, God,
If there is one thing I can ask You:
Please bring another season quickly,
So I have something on Netflix to view.”

Becoming Tom Hanks

I planned my first night,
Sleeping completely outside,
No tent, no shelter,
Just wide open sky.

The beach would be my sanctuary,
The sand would be my bed,
The moon would be my nightlight,
I would trade in modern comforts for nature instead.

I imagined the waves,
Lulling me to sleep,
The stars twinkling in the sky,
Not a sound, not one peep.

I would be out in the open,
A brand new adventure,
Another “first” to cross of my list,
Therefore, a meaningful endeavor.

What actually happened?
When reality met my dreams?
It was quite different,
From what it had seemed.

The wind blew all night,
Never to cease nor relent,
The clouds masked my stars,
And raindrops made their decent.

It didn’t rain for long,
But they dropped here and there,
With lightning in the distance,
I felt a bit scared.

But I remained in my place,
And I toughed it out,
With sand blowing in my face,
And many discomforts to count.

Neighboring campers were noisy,
And kept their lights on late,
I felt like I hardly slept one hour,
Let alone the recommended eight.

When I awoke from my final cat nap,
I decided to start my day,
Feeling tired and haggard,
Like Tom Hanks in “Cast Away”

I didn’t have a beard,
Nor was Wilson by my side,
But I felt filthy and forlorn,
And tired enough to cry.

I stumbled to the car,
And got my hands on a coffee,
It gave me the audacity,
To finish my day at the sea.

Would I recommend it? Not really.
Would I do it again?
I don’t know. I kinda doubt it.
But I’ve been known to forget.


Twenty-nine years ago,
In northwestern PA,
A little girl was born,
Making the world a better place.

He name was Andrea Lauren,
With brown hair and big brown eyes,
She would become a kindred spirit,
With whom I’d share the lows and the highs.

After meeting in elementary school,
Our friendship quickly flourished,
Despite too much DQ ice cream cake,
We were never malnourished.

Remember all the trips to Erie?
When Weathervane jeans were in?
Too young to drive ourselves,
We only found rides through asking.

Your one pair had that random hole in it,
That nobody talked about,
Though it was fashioned by the blade of a scissors,
Which, when you saw it, made you shout.

From playing soccer together,
To exploring the benefits of horticulture,
We always had each other’s backs,
Protecting each other from any vultures.

Remember my mom driving us to school,
When Enrique was her favorite CD?
Back before we created our morning mixes,
So we had cool songs to sing?

Our precious Perkins corner booth,
Was like a second home,
We spent so many hours there talking,
Drinking coffee through early morn.

I’ll never forget the time,
When we missed school one time too many,
Mr. Drake called your dad,
Who’s pound on my door was hard and heavy.

I gave him my best performance,
Entitled: sicker than sick,
But your dad wasn’t born yesterday,
So he didn’t fall for the trick.

And I still laugh to this day,
When I hear “Brass Monkey” on the radio,
I’ll never forget the party,
Where it was the guest star and hero.

Fast forward many years,
And look down two different paths,
You’ll see a friendship spanning time,
That always managed to last.

Today, you have a different last name,
And a beautiful family,
Yet if I was ever in need,
You’d still find time for me.

You are a best friend,
A one-of-a-kind treasure,
And when I try to put it into words,
It’s hard to truly take measure.

I appreciate your loyalty,
And admire you for being so strong,
You have a humongous heart,
And manage to forgive those who do wrong.

It doesn’t matter if it’s been a week,
Or if it’s been a year,
We always pick up where we left off,
A true gift that is rare.

The Cart

It feels like it was yesterday,
Though it’s been several months,
That fateful encounter in Whole Foods,
While I was getting my lunch.

I was standing at the checkout,
When an old crush walked by,
And I immediately stared down at the counter,
I didn’t want to catch his eye.

Normally I’m pretty composed,
Or at least I can appear to be,
But there is unexplainable chaos,
In the effect this person has on me.

I rush the cashier,
I decline my receipt,
I turn to run for my car,
When something immediately stops my feet.

It was a lady with a shopping cart,
But I saw a goalie blocking my net,
She stood between,
Me and my smooth exit.

She let out a scream,
Because I caught her off guard,
I T-boned her cart,
With both legs and arms.

I hoped he hadn’t heard her,
I hoped she hadn’t seen my face,
I was completely mortified,
I felt like a disgrace.

I could feel my flushed skin,
My red cheeks and neck,
I had to get out of here,
Now, right this sec!

But there was a small problem,
When I got out the door,
I couldn’t find my car,
It was very busy at the store.

I paced and I paced,
Pretending to search in my bag,
Pretending I was distracted by my phone,
Trying to come up with some sort of gag.

After what felt like an hour,
But was at least 5-10 minutes,
I found my car,
And immediately got in it.

I was still shaking,
As I fled the scene,
But I never looked up,
To see if he had seen.

While weak knees are fun,
Exciting and exhilarating,
They can disable your brain,
And prohibit any concentrating.

© Regina Mast 2016

Cook Out

I’m out downtown,
For a friend’s birthday celebration,
When I run into someone I used to know,
Unexpectedly stirring up some unresolved frustration.

It was about that time,
That you first crossed my mind,
Like a shooting star,
Soon to be left behind.

I tell myself “no!
You will wake up with regret.
So do your best,
To just forget.”

A few hours later,
After a few more bars,
You again cross my mind,
You’re not far by car.

I haven’t seen you in months,
Maybe even a year,
But when I see the light still on,
I lose all my fear.

You don’t ask where I’ve been,
You don’t ask where I’m going,
You ask what I want.
Perhaps my affection isn’t showing?

I want what I always want,
Don’t you remember?
Or don’t you keep track,
Of my late night endeavors?

Is your smile even sincere?
You rush me in and out,
Before I know it,
I’m alone, homeward bound.

But you are worth it,
You never let me down,
Your predictable perfection,
Is as comforting as a silk gown.

You are Cook Out,
My favorite treat,
With burgers and milkshakes,
I love to eat!

© Regina Mast 2016


My little lamb,
If you were a song,
You’d be my jam!

Here you are,
Turning twenty-one AGAIN,
You get better every year,
Yet you’re always a ten.

Yes, you are beautiful,
But you’re also wise,
And you have a brilliant accent,
You could never disguise.

It makes you swear words sound dainty,
It makes your potty mouth sound classy,
It makes anything you say sound intelligent,
But in context, smart-a**y.

You’re the Paul to my Kathy Bates,
In the thriller that is Misery,
You’re my heavens to Betsy,
And my dirty birdie.

Every time you’re around,
You give me a broader perspective,
You always keep moving forward,
Never too retrospective.

It’s funny that with six sisters,
I didn’t realize I needed another,
Until you showed up,
And married my brother.

I’m glad that of everyone out there,
Dean chose you,
Cause you’re friggin’ awesome,
And you’re funny as poo.

I still don’t understand,
How you turned him into a softy,
Especially when it comes to Harry,
I’d have thought your ambitions were too lofty.

Dean is lucky to have you,
In fact our entire family is,
Cause you’re completely wonderful,
And we all think you’re the shiz.

You are incessantly creative,
Always coming up with an interesting story,
With your fictional… I mean truth-telling journaling/reporting,
Entertaining, in all its glory.

You make this world,
A better place to live,
With your authenticity and realness,
And the kindness that you give.

Cheers to another year,
Hopefully your best one yet,
You are loved and treasured,
The greatest Brit I’ve ever met.


He robbed the cradle,
When she was eighteen,
Built her a castle,
And made her his queen.

He strums her ballads,
With his air guitar,
It beckons her to the bedroom,
When she’s near or far.

Through hell and high water,
He would roam,
Her knight in shining armor,
To bring her home.

He’s not much for candles,
Flowers, or roses.
He wooes her in sandals,
And sexy poses.

She is the purple martin,
In his sky,
She’s the shiny red apple,
Of his eye.

She’s his ace of spades,
His royal crown,
Their love never fades,
From sun up to sun down.


Katie, Katie.
What a lady.
It’s hard to believe
She’s half of eighty.

She’s the essence of beauty,
The very essence of grace,
She changes the atmosphere,
Just showing her face.

She’s soft, she’s sweet.
She’s feisty, she’s tough.
But if you mess with her kids,
She won’t hesitate to get rough.

She’s the definition of peace,
She oozes gratitude.
She’s the favorite aunt to each niece.
And she always has a good attitude.

When everything is chaos,
She stays calm,
And she remains grounded,
In any storm.

She’s the mother to everyone,
The lost souls and the found.
Her ability to comfort is second to none,
And she can do it, without making a sound.

If your world has shattered,
And the pieces fall apart,
She’ll sit with you for hours,
And listen to your heart.

Then she’ll take the pieces,
And put them back together.
You’ll walk away a new soul,
Having been changed forever.

You feel it in her gestures,
And in the way she moves,
God’s constantly flowing through her,
Which her presence easily proves.

Today we honor her,
And we shower her with love.
Because that’s what she spends her life
Doing for all of us.