You are a math teacher, I am sure
How can I tell?
Because you have a nice figure.
You look much better,
Losing weight,
Like in ice skating, a figure eight.

I like your new haircut, so boyish,
You don't look Jewish, more goyish.
When you smile, I like your dimple,
Like me, you are casual, not ritzy, simple.

One thing, I learned in my life,
Love thy neighbor, but not his wife.
When you read this poem, give me a kiss,
I am sure your husband won't miss.
S.L.

This hotel is the same as the rest.
You can't say the service is the best.
Yet it isn't the worst, I say the same.
The only difference is in the name.

Just look at some guests who are here,
Takes on the nursing home atmosphere.
Men and women wearing hearing aids,
With canes. walkers and even aides.

Ages range from sixty-five to ninety-five,
When they awake, they're glad to be alive.
One thing I will admit is very good,
Not the service, but the Kosher food.

I enjoy playing cards every night,
Although once in a while, have a fight.
No matter if the weather's good or bad,
As long as you're "here", you should be glad.
S.L.

I got an invitation, for Reba's Birthday.
To come to Philly from Miami, on Sunday.
I didn't hesitate, called Lewis, and said O. K.
And thank G-d, that I am here today.

While lying in bed last night, I shed tears,
Thinking, I didn't see most of you, eleven years.
Your Uncle Sam, is a different man, I must say,
I have a Gift, that I write Poems, any Day.

Reba, you've been a great Sister and Aunt,
Being an Uncle, can I say that, of course I can't.
I hope you stay well, keep your chin-up, My Dear,
I promise to come to Philly, November each Year.

To You, all my Nephews and Nieces, thank you,
For making, this dinner, a dream that came true.
And think of Uncle Sam, once in a while,
Uncle Sam has a second Gift, making people smile.
S.L.

I met a blonde at my son's pool,
She's been around, she's nobody's fool.
You might think that it is very silly,
To mention that she also lived in Philly.

I don't have a car, Pauline has a car,
But you know what? She doesn't go far.
So what do we do, we talk on the phone,
As far as making love, I can't do it alone.

I can go to her place and stay overnight,
Her grandson lives there, might have a fight,
Sometimes when in her house, I can see,
She likes to bake and cook, very good for me.

This poem I wrote at 3 a.m., just for fun,
Pauline l'll keep in touch on the phone.
My dear, stay well and take care of your grandson,
After all, he's a relative; me, just Levinson.
S.L.

I met a little redhead, named Claire,
She's on the shy side, I must declare.
G-d bestowed a sense of humor on me,
I make her laugh, which is very healthy.

We have lots of fun, when we're together,
We go to places, regardless of the weather.
When we go to Dogs and Jai-alai, I can tell,
That she enjoys it, "Come on six," she does yell.

I was closed up in a shell, for a while,
But snapped out of it, and now have a smile.
From things I endured, take my advice
Try to be happy, and laugh, be nice.

It's not good to be alone, one needs a pal,
Being a man I have a friend, a redhead gal.
Her famous quote, she uses quite a bit,
When on the phone she says, "That's about it."
S.L.

People living in a condo, like Del Prado,
Should be happy, there's so much on the go.
You have s0 many things to enjoy, I must say,
Also the wonderful breeze, from Biscayne Bay.

Isn't it great for people, having each other,
Especially the singles, without a sister or brother.
Enjoy each day, tomorrow will also be gay,
Tomorrow will come and will become today.

Friendly people are those playing cards at night,
Next day, having a condo meeting, having a fight.
Having your fun and social clubs, are good,
For an extra treat, you even get some food.

If you feel you are not satisfied, here's a tip,
Visit some nursing home; it's worth the trip.
Then you will Thank G-d, that I do know,
You'll agree it's heaven, living in Del Prado.
S.L.

I was glad that I met you at Royal Palm,
So much of you, yet you're cool and calm.
We had lots of fun playing Gin Rummy,
You know the game pretty good, no dummy.

We reminisced and kidded about each "lay;"
It didn't get me aroused, in any kind of way.
Not that I'm not able, but it's all in the head;
I wasn't thinking of you, but Rummy instead.

Remember when one man opened with three,
You had one. He said, "I Knocked? Can't be."
Freda, one thing for sure. I won't forget the name;
Why? You might ask. My wife's was the same.
S.L.

I met Betty in sort of a peculiar way;
How we met one will never know any day.
A widow I think, rather cute five foot one;
I don't have a car so we talk on the phone.

Of what she tells me a devoted daughter,
Sacrifices a lot to take care of her mother.
When left alone one is lucky, I always say
To have a daughter instead of a son, any day.

Betty is blessed with two daughters, one is Sue;
I try to make Betty laugh, when she is blue.
She has three grandchildren, two girls one boy
She tells me that bring her lots of joy.

She is a registered nurse by vocation
From which at present she's taking a vacation.
To keep a man going, should have friends in life
When unfortunately G~d tares away his wife.
S.L.

When a man meets a woman, who has money,
Might trick her, call her sweetheart or honey.
He will try to please her, in many ways,
Make her think he loves her, the passing days.

It's a shame the woman can't read his mind,
That's why people got the quote, "LOVE IS BLIND".
I am not after money, I want a woman who's good,
I am a one-woman man, that must be understood.

One gets nourishment for love, from kisses,
It's the start from changing a Miss to Missus.
To some men, women are like leaves off a tree,
They pick them up, hold them and let them free.

Somehow I feel different, in a peculiar-way,
I want to stick to one, not change each day.
When I meet a woman, that in some way I adore;
Like a leaf clings to it's twig, hold on evermore.
S.L.

I have known you for one whole year
But not as well as I know you now, my dear.
For the last three weeks, was much better,
We had experience, that you don't get in a letter.

I lived an entirely different way of life,
I enjoyed your company, as a devoted wife.
I eliminated TV, which I watch a great deal,
But having someone to talk to is real.

As for playing dominoes that I did not miss,
I was happier to be with you, to get a kiss.
Only G-d knows what will happen my dear,
Maybe I will miss you and visit you this year.

We had conversations , viewpoints pro and con,
When you get home give my regards to your son,
Your daughter in law, give Adam a kiss,
Tell them, that I am sure, Nelly I'll miss...

"YOUR FRIEND"
S.L.

I met a five foot-one lady, the other day,
Liked what I saw, seemed cute, in a way.
I started a conversation, which is easy for me,
Told me where she lives, later went in to see.

She gave me her phone number, called at night,
We spoke for about three hours, without a fight.
She thinks she knows me better, than my mother,
She was a pampered wife, and a spoiled daughter.

If it would be up to her, no more sex relation,
That way in due time, no more population.
She thinks it's foolish to be born, to die.
Why doesn't Jo leave that up to G-d, why?

She felt blue and invited me for dinner,
Had faith in me, I wouldn't make her a sinner.
Perhaps G-d gave me the power to make her smile,
And try to convince her that living is worth while.

S.L.

You might ponder, do I miss you, Jo?
How much, my dear, you'll never know.
While lying in bed and not able to sleep,
Started to write this, instead of counting sheep.

Began to reminisce of all the things we did,
The way I met you, was the same as when I was a kid.
I looked forward to buying flowers each week.
You listened to your daughter, because you're weak.

You'll meet a doctor and get examinations free;
I wasn't good enough, because I haven't a degree.
One thing I accomplished, I got you out of the shell;
Will we ever meet again? I wonder. Who can tell?

"The honeymoon is over," was what you said ,
Believe me, I felt blue. You might think I was glad.
In my heart I have no malice towards your daughter,
When you see her, tell her, "I love her mother."
S.L.

Tell me dear - what shall Sammy do,
When you are away and he feels blue.
He doesn't have a picture to look at,
Perhaps sing to you in the key of E flat.

Shall I visit the eighty-year-old wheel,
Mary will see me and she will squeal.
Shall I call your friend Trudy on the phone,
Tell her I want to meet her, being alone.

How about Mary 's sister, being she's rich,
Tell me dear, being my friend, which?
Can't you see that I'm lost, help me,
Maybe I should forget women - take it easy.

In case you get lonesome, call me, pay the bill,
When the Bubba will be a Zaida, you will.
I think Sammy will write poems instead,
When he gets drowsy and sleepy go to bed.
S.L.

Mary is a Jewish widow from Willimantic.
A small town, in the state of Connecticut.
How I met her and call her, I will not reveal,
After all, I am not a rat, I do not squeal.

She has a home, car, and in excellent health,
She has two daughters, that alone, to me is wealth.
She has one knee in, and one out, will be sixty five
She claims that as far as sex, she's still alive.

She's lonely and looking for a mate to fill her life,
I am a widower and who knows, she might be my wife.
I have a picture of her sitting on some rocks,
Rather cute, a pleasant smile, dark glasses, no socks.

On February the fifth she'll be in Miami to visit me,
Wants me to go back with her, I might, we'll see.
After all I met my wife, who's gone, on a blind date,
I don't know about you, but I believe in fate.
S.L.

I met a lady from your town of Willimantic,
The houses, stores and streets look romantic.
She was is Miami, sunbathing this year.
Now I am in Willimantic, I know I'll like it here.

I was born in a small town in Russia, long ago,
All winter there, all I would see was snow.
When I think about it, I get a chill in my back
Being there I would get a heart attack.

I think the people are friendly to each other,
Feel just like a young sister and brother.
I hope that you will all be the same to me,
I have a spontaneous sense of humor, you'll see.

I was blessed with a gift to compose poetry,
Each one is blessed with something, you'll agree.
I'll read you poems, tell you jokes, make you smile,
If I can accomplish this, my visit will be worthwhile.
S.L.

I have a new hobby, I have pen pals,
They are not men, they are lonesome gals.
I have them in every state in the U.S.A.
I answer letters for about 3 hours each day.

In each letter I insert a poem or two,
To make their day cheerful not blue.
I also write them jokes or puns I try,
To make them laugh, not to be sad or cry.

There are lots of widows, living alone,
To cheer them up, call them on the phone.
My conception of religion, do a good deed,
I know what I am doing, is what they need.

So my pen pals, keep writing letters to me,
I'll do my utmost to make you laugh, you'll see.
Think of Sam Levinson as a real "pal,"
Whether you're a tall, short, fat or thin gal.
S.L.

Connie, believe me...
      This is how I feel,
When I met you
      You have sex appeal.
If only I could kiss you
      Without a fight -
Put my arms around you,
      Hold you tight.
If only I could live forever,
      Not to be senile,
I would never be blue ...
      always have a smile.
I love life,
      enjoy an attractive woman,
Which you are
      In the eyes of any man.
Tell me, dear Connie,
      Do you enjoy a little love?
Are you sexy ?
      I enjoy writing.
Some people love to sing.
      Maybe I'm dreaming ...
The alarm will ring.
S.L.

Right now I am thinking of my wife,
Strange things happen, in one's life.
This week I found someone new.
Perhaps liking her, makes me feel blue.

I met a lot of women, since she died,
Never felt like this, and never cried.
For five years I cried inside but now crying
Tears are coming out, without trying.

It's a lonesome life...to be all alone,
Wondering, who to call on the phone?
Funny how fast I have changed my mind,
And hoping, to find one, who will be my kind.

I feel much better, in getting the tears out,
It's probably the natural thing...no doubt.
I guess one needs a partner in life,
I don't mean in business... I mean a wife.
S.L.

Why is it that good things don't last long.
It could be anything from a vacation to a song.
You might have a job which you really enjoyed,
Business takes a drop and you find you're unemployed

You might be in the mood of laughter or singing.
All of a sudden you hear the phone ringing.
Someone on the other end tells you bad news.
Who is in the mood for singing when you have the blues.

You are fortunate to have a happy, married life;
Then what happens, G-d takes away husband or wife.
No one has the answer, and one-doesn't question why;
Life is not forever, each one of us must die.

Sometimes I wonder if it's all worthwhile;
You want to be happy and have a smile.
The trouble is that good things don't last,
But life must go on, try to forget the past.
S.L.

Things that make others happy, might seem dumb,
It starts from childhood, when they suck a thumb.
And on the way to school you'll see some child,
Deliberately walking in a puddle, it seems wild.

As time goes by, whether it's healthy or not,
People engage in smoking, drinking or pot.
Then again others will sail the oceans blue,
Around the world all their lives, it's true.

Ask the inmates in jail why they're in;
They get their kicks in life by going astray.
Daredevils get their kicks risking their lives,
Doing their thing, whatever it is, even dives.

By people doing what they like, others gain.
The ones that like to be doctors, cure your pain.
Before you pass judgment on others, try to be coy,
Just analyze the things in life that you enjoy.
S.L.