Patterns of Life and Love

Victory Over Self

Our quarrels, sorrows and defeats,
Grow small and smaller, when compared,
With all the whole of Time's expanse,
But still to each defeat, we bow,
For ev'ry sorrow, bear the mark,
For quarrels old, we hold the grudge,
Aware that Time will clean the slate.

In Time, the history books will tell,
Of battles fought and battles won,
Of heroes brave and statesmen wise,
Of deeds of courage, not of fear,
But still the world will never learn,
As long as we admit defeat,
It will never disappear.

It takes great courage to go on,
When all the road looks dark ahead,
And ev'ry friend insists "Give up."
But that's the road to victory.

All Dreams

Sweet dream, sweet dream, 'tis all a dream,
Could ever love so blest be mine?
Faint earthly heart, you could not stand,
A love so brave, so great, so fine.

But not a dream, 'tis not a dream,
The pleasured idylls, sweet desires,
The solemn, silent, yearning wills,
That bound, unwilling, passion's fires.

Yet if a dream, 'tis dream so fair,
Bewitching every lonely thought,
So solemn sweet, a visioned love,
A wraith-like thing, so barely caught.

Treasure

Although you bare your fangs at me,
Most cruel Fates, you cannot harm,
The treasured symbol of my love,
Is in my heart, secure and warm.

The blessed joy of other days,
Your careless hand did seize and break,
The broken bits I gathered up,
A hidden treasure hoard to make.

So now a newer toy is mine,
A shining, gleamin little toy,
Enchanting, charming, somewhat dear,
A simple thing that gives me joy.

But in my bitter loneliness,
I seize upon my past, proud dream,
That stronger bond than hate or death,
And prove it's worth in life's own scheme.

Stoicism

All pleasure here are temporal,
All joys illusionary dreams.
The pains we bear, the sorrows share,
Alone will count on Judgment Day.

Philosopher, forget that creed,
That calls for pleasures undenied,
Remember now, eternity,
And wish not for a life of ease.

Why cry for moments quickly spent,
When you can have eternity,
With all it's blissful peace and joy
And know that it will never end?

Of aught, but one will stand the test,
Of whether good or whether ill,
It's name is Wisdom, blessed joy,
Of all who who know it's saving grace.

Selfish Heart

I looked upon all loveliness,
And wondered how it could be so,
When in my heart, I felt no joy,
But only gloom and answering woe.

"You foolish, selfish child," I thought,
"You would deny these beauties here,
To everyone, because you're sad,
Now, go and hide that bitter tear."

Renunciation

Come, miser, here is yellow gold,
Enough to satisfy your heart,
Come, greedy girl, here are some jewels,
Some diamonds worthy of a queen.
Come one, come all, who love the show,
That speaks an empty heart and soul;
Now what was that, you said to me?
You say that I have nothing left?
Oh, silly child, you are so wrong,
I have the best beside me yet,
Come here, my own, and hold me close,
Our love is better than all that wealth.

Peace

The sky was a star-flecked tapestry,
The earth, a dark'ned stage,
That night I walked and dreamed of you.

My heart was a bitter chaos,
My soul was so bitter, too,
But they gave such pleasant ministry,
That soon I was peaceful, too.

Destiny

Nor angels of Heaven nor minions of Hell,
Can keep me from my destined Fate,
Though I be just a fetter'd slave,
If destiny decrees my rise,
No power on earth can hold my soul,
And though I live in mansions large,
If Fate decrees my lot be poor,
Then there is naught will hold my wealth,
And if I am to be unloved,
No matter what my beauty be,
There shall be none to hold me dear,
But if I am to knoow true love,
I need not fear when old age comes,
It will not change that faithful love.

Soap-Bubble Dreams

Soap-bubble dreams are all I have,
They glow so iridescently,
In all the beauteous color schemes,
A single moment, then are gone,,
They shimmer, shine and glisten, dear.
But then when I feel sure they'll last,
They burst in tiny water-specks.

Moods

My heart has roamed despair's dark depths,
And felt the clammy hand of fear,
Upon it's brow.

My heart has scaled the dizzy heights,
And stood so god-like on the peak,
Of sudden joys.

But all despair and all the joys,
Were brought about by you.
Your gen'rous heart and kindly soul,
Are all I love so true.

Useless Love?

The years are bridged, the time has fled,
Since when our wond'rous love was born,
And what if all the dreams were vain,
If each from each our hearts were torn?

Is that good cause to claim our love,
Was valueless, a heart-worn fraud,
A childish dream that sapped our strength,
And stole our youthful faith in God?

You know, I know, that is not true,
Perhaps we did not gain our dreams,
But which is best, that dream or this,
Our deeper wisdom of life's schemes..

Etching

By acid tears, your name is etched,
Upon the tissues of my heart,
By sorrow's pen, your features sketched,
To last forever in my soul.

Lost Idol

My dream has died a painful death,
And healing Time receives it's corpse,
It feels no prick of jealousy,
It cannot feel, it's heart is stilled.

Yet once that dream was all my life,
It slept and ate and breathed with me,
When I awoke. it greeted me,
And said "good night" before I slept.

It warmed me when my flesh was cold,
It gave me comfort in my pain,
And lighted all my darksome way,
With beacons of a hope to come.

But now I have no comforter,
A vacant shrine, a vacant throne,
Are all I have, reminding me,
That once this happy dream did live.

How?

How kill a love that bloomed so strong?
How rend the dream that was it's hope?
How end with mournful notes it's song?

Can it be done - this cruel thing?
Tell, can you really kill a love?
But will it not in echoes ring?

If you can really hear his name,
And not a twinge of pain to know,
You may, perhaps, have quenched the flame.

But if you have one thought of him,
That brings an aching, lonely hurt,
Your chance to conquer love is slim.

I search my heart and find that I
Have not succeeded in my wish --
You still can cause my heart to cry.

Death in Life

Without your love, my own dear one,
My life is just a prison-house,
Wherein my soul resides awhile
I talk, I walk, I eat, I sleep,
But all as in the vaguest dream,
I cannot feel a single thing,
I speak to people, laugh and cry,
But nothing means a thing to me,
Not one emotion breaks the calm.
Of passionless and quiet dream
Then death will be a kind release,
But very little of a change,
'Twill only be the end that day,
Of automatic motions that,
Have kept my body still alive.

I Ask You

If I should say I love you,
Would you love me, too,
Say my name in accents tender,
Hold me in your arms,
Neve let me leave?

Or would you seek another,
Spurn all I have to offer,
Lured by gloss and glitter,
Toss your head and walk away,
While I watch in silent sorrow?

Dark Moods

The Lonely Soul

A lonely soul that wanders wide,
O'er stony hills and branbly paths,
Through dismal, darken'd, dreary woods,
Where all the trees are cold and wet,
And drooping leaves weep rainy tears,
All sounds within that gloomy dell,
Are like the bitter knell of doom,
But still, my soul, would wander on,
Across the swampy, marshy fen,
In hope that it may find a place,
In which at last it might find peace.

Despondent

Pondering, sighing,
Wond'ring, crying,
And so my weary days are sped,,
Hopefully dreaming,
Hopelessly scheming,
Until I seek my quiet bed,
Bitterly lying,
Silently denying,
Afraid to say my hopes have fled.

Desolation

The moon is cold, a sharpened scythe,
The time is over late and dead,
The dream-trees have forgotten how,
To leaf themselves again in hope,
The barren earth cannot return,
It's once so fulsome harvest yield,
The birds their songs cannot recall,
With rasping notes, they break the still,
The sleepless one plods on in pain,
Through worlds that once were fresh and green.

Lost Soul

The visioned time has now arrived,
When life is but a stupid jest,
And ev'ry dream is dust and ash,
Estranged from hopes, God-blest.

Ah dream ye, dream ye, while ye may,
Too soon, too soon, it's done,
And lost for aye is joyousness,
And bitter sorrows won.

Death Cold

The cold crept into ev'ry heart,
It filled the empty crevices,
And turned each heart back to it's own,
The tendrils of each person's love,
Were drawn again into the heart,
And ev'ry soul was quite alone.

And like a snail, each soul began,
To make a cell away from life,
Away from human comradeship,
And life died out and death held reign.
As man denied his fellowman,
And love from his own soul did strip.

Dismal Swamps

The moisture-laden stagnant air.
Has laid it's clammy hand on me,
The very clothing that I wear,
Is wet and hot and won't hang free.

The squish and slosh whene'er I walk,
Is like a shot within the gloom,
A snakes's eyes watch me like a hawk,
And seem to wish to bring my doom.

Pessimist

Sere and barren trees,
Dry and parched the earth,
From which my silent heart still flees.

About me spring is green
And summer comes apace,
While everywhere new life is seen.

But death is in my eye,
And yearning clouds my view,
So from my sight their beauties fly.

Alone

Home alone, am I, 'tis true,
Though I have no lack of friends or family
Yes many have gone ahead,
Husband, parents, grandparents,
Aunts, uncles, sisters, brothers.

But still I do not feel alone,
I see them in my mind.
Feel their presence,
As though they were not far away.
Reassurance of family care and love.

So which is right - are they with me?
Or simply dwelling in my mind as memories?

.By Myself

This day I spent alone,
Denied the rapier thrusts of wit,
My own quicksilver mind,
Was only too content to quit.

My joyous laugh was quenched,
In blue and thoughtful loneliness,
It is so hard to speak,
My stubborn silence to confess.

Despair

I care not where my life is spent,
In crowded halls or lonely caves,
I care not how my life is spent,
In humble place or fame's bright gleam,'
I care not when my life is spent,
In years to come or yet today.
For all my prayers have been in vain,
The one desire that I have known,
Has been denied my anxious heart.


Loss

If I had looked on death, my heart,
I could not be much more alone,
Than I am now, that you are gone.
The terrors of the night have come,
A night of writhing, creeping things,
Of hate that kills and love that stings.

Memory

Yes, you may hide those treasures dear,
That linked our hearts in love before,
Yet through the night in dreams so clear,
The past parades from mem'ries store.

Fred

A cynic, you, and why sir?
When life is such a question mark?
You'd think you'd solved the whole world's woes,
And all of life was but a lark.

The Cynic

A kindly word is spoken now,
A harsh and bitter later on,
In after days, is good recalled,
The hasty word, instead come back,
To haunt the mem'ry of the past.

Break the Cup

The cup of life is broken now,
And so the bitter wine is spilled,
It once was sweet with love's own joy,
Until a poison turned it sour,
The poison of a bitter hurt,
Who likes a sour and bitter wine?
So, break the cup and spill it now.

All is NOT Well

The lonely, haunted ways are mine,
The paths were sorrow reigns,
And in the hushed' still is heard,
The breaking of my heart.
The stillness should, perhaps, be balm,
To wounded heart and soul,
Instead the bitterness wells up,
And tears away my calm.
My weak pretence, that all is well.

Unclassified

Epitaph for Beach Bums

Imagine living by the sea,
Day in, day out,
Year in, year out,
The surging waves,
Wash away,
Everything!
Desire, ambition,
Joy, love, life,
Leaving behind,
A sandy pebble,
On the beach.

Beauttiful Houses

I admire those houses,
So large and so attractive,
But so expensive, too,
I would not wish to own one,
No matter how attractive,
My life so casual is,
That so formal seems,
I could not, would not,
Wish to change,
To be the owner of one.

The Prayer in Stones

Passing from the well-known ways,
I turned my feet upon a path,
Half o'ergrown and long disused,
Despite the weary turn of days.

There beyond man's brutal hands,
A somber monolithic prayer,
Raised some long-forgotten god
Still stood upon the graying sands.

Whose the hands that raised those stones,
In architectural design?
Whose the hearts that worshipped there?
Their prayer remains - of them, not bones.

Great Moments

One day as I stood gazing at
The clouds, so fleecy white and pure,
I thought how beautiful the skies were then --

So monents brave and beautiful
Transform out humdrum lives,
And stand like clouds in clear blue skies,
That we may see their beauty bright.

The things that we have known,
Of wrong and sorrow, seem to make,
Our daily life more beautiful
Compared to them.

The Chair

In polished wood, in rounded back,
A craftman's skillful touch, I see,
With loving care, he turned the wood.
And ev'ry imperfection culled,
The roughness of the texture smoothed,
He worked upon the final shape,
And finished then, he stained the wood,
An oaken tinge, a lovely shade,
And then a varnish, honey gold,
He soon applied, and smiled at this,
His work of art, his joy, complete.

Slow Minutes

So slow and sad, the minutes creep,
The lonely, gloomy hours drag,
And Time itself seems caught upon a snag,
Brgrudging it, it's freedom sweet,
That lets it move so swift and fleet,
While now it moves as if in sluggish sleep.

The Work of Living

Still up the darkened path,
The steps go climbing slow,
The way unknown, and strange,
Mankind goes toiling up,
The darkened steps of Time,
The sick, the lame, the children,
The youthful and the old,
They all must make the climb.

Only A Book

It's just a book, what's a book?
Most rarest gem to brighten days,
The treasured pleasure of a soul,
Within it's bounden covers lays.

Of Wisdom

The fairest rose, the rarest gem,
That may be found in all the world,
Is not to be compared with thee,
O Wisdom, born of Truth and Love.

Beauty Is ---

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, someone said,
But does a man see beauty in a she-bears face?
Or a male bear in the face of a woman?
But wait - another says, beauty is as beauty does,
But what if beauty is and does not do,
Perhaps beauty serves when man
Puts a mind image of beauty
Before a less than beauty,
Heeding Nature's demand to procreate.

River of Life

The river rolls majestically,
And ceaseless flows toward the sea,
In ev'ry wave, I see a life,
That moves ahead, through storm and strfe,
The lights along the river's shore,
Are like the joys that went before,
And like the hopes of future joy,
That love and happiness employ,
To give to life a brighter glow,
As down the stormy way they go.

Beauty's Perfection

In many times, that I have seen,
A certain little place or scene,
It has possessed a beauty rare,
That seized my heart all unaware,
A momentary thing -- it flees,
And may not come again to tease,
My heart, with heavenly desire,
For things behond earth's mud and mire,
But still the glimpse that I have caught,
Has all my sadder wishes fought,
And strives to keep my eyes upon,
That strange perfcction that has gone,
But still lives on within my heart,
In which all good must play it's part.

A New Day

The sun is rising, chasing night,
The day has started fresh again,
Now come, ye dreamers, lovers, all,
Let not this day pass, unfulfilled,
The dusk shall bring thee great reward,
Of dreams come true, of hopes made clear,.
Let each new day be just a spur,
And your ambition be so strong,
That you may not neglect the chance,
To help your heart and prayers along,
And do not leave undone those things,
That may your cause promote,
That none may say you lazy were,
When at the end you lay at rest.

Short Family Story

The husband,
Built a house,
We made a home,
The children came,
A happy home.

Then grief came,
The husband sick, gone,
The children still young,
The family held together.

But children grow,
Leave, make own homes,
The mother all alone.

The mother alone,
But not all alone,
The children care,
The friends care.

The mother has a home,
Not a house, but a home,
And friends and family,
She is not lonely.

Life goes on in
Such a quiet way,
A long story made short,
But not always sweet.

Remembrance

The soft purring of a cat in the dark.
The hushed quiet of a Sunday church,
The bright, red berries of the holly.
The brave colors of Old Glory,
The tender strains of romantic music,
The look of love in a girl's eyes,
The beaury of a garden after the rain,
The sweetness of a little baby's smile,
The many-colored beauty of an evening sky,
The sunshine of an early-morning smile,
The beautiful words, "I love you, dearest",
The wind-blown perfume of a thousand flowers,
The immesurable beauty of a star-lit sky,
The cheery sunrise twittering of the birds,
The buzzing whisper of a bee's song,
The cool breeze that bathes my face,
The sight of a many-petaled daisy,
The sound of your dear voice, beloved,
The word beauty of the Book of Psalms.
The bright glory of the orange-colored sun,
All these remind me of you, sweetheart.

The Question

Has it ever happened,
That someone waited,
Outside the door of no return,
Questioning, "Why say that?"
"What did you mean?"
But no answer comes back,
No matter how long or patient the wait.

But someday the door will open for you,
Then perhaps you will know the answer
But for you alone, you cannot tell another.
But suppose, just suppose,
An answer was permitted,
Another question would arise,
To haunt the questioner,
So forgive and forget,
There is no other way.

Wanderer

Wanderlust

The throb of engines in my ear,
Disturbs my peaceful, happy life,
I feel the wanderlust come in
And seize my soul in strong desire.

The quiet peace encompassed me,
Until the rumbling train came by,
And filled my heart with such unrest,
As made the walls seem prison bars.

Bot now I cannot stay for long,
I feel my soul reach out to touch,
The heaven's edge and so I go,
And leave my peaceful world behind.

The quiet talk, the soft'ning ways,
They all must now be shorn away,
The wanderlust does not respect,
A love for peaceful dreams and thoughts.

The Hiker

Adventure lies ahead,
On roadways wide and beckoning.
And there my feet have fled,
When life became too dull and slow.

The endless hills and slopes.
That soothe my stormy, restless heart.
Revive my dearest hopes,
And strengthen soon my wish for life.

The paving sends up waves,
Of sun-drenched heat that burns
My feet, till nothing saves
Me from the fury of the sun.

My lunch, a sandwich dry,
A banquet, fitting for a king,
It tastes as good as pie,
To those who roam the roads they love.

The blessings far outweigh,
The pain and all discomforts, still,
My love could never sway,
For these sweet pleasures of the road.

Unquiet Spirit

This body holds me
Too close a prisoner,
My spirit longs to be free, to soar,
Nor only through the air,
But through space itself,
I feel a subtle presssure,
On my spirit's wings,
Keeping me earthbound,
When I would rather soar,
Through space and time itself.

Night and Day

Unto Eternity

The summer sky was blue,
A brilliant blue, clean and warm,
I gazed with longing in my heart .
How wonderful to be a part
Of that blue,
To lose identity in peace.
The self so loved by worldly folk,
Completely vanished now in all.

Enchantment

At midnight all the world was stilled,
In silvery glow it lay,
With silent joy, my soul was thrilled
As never by the day.

A willful wind caressed the trees,
Their shadows gaily danced,
And as the leaves bewitched the breeze,
I stood as one entranced.

Enchanted night, thy spell has gone,
But always will remain,
Within my heart, although the dawn,
The darkened sky does stain.

Dawning

Across the pale-streaked morning skies,
Warm finger-rays of sunlight reach,
Then through the window panes they stream,
The slumb'rous tousled heads beseech.

"The dawn is here, lie not abed.
Come, greet the glorious morn,
Now cast aside the spell of sleep,.
For at the dawn, new dreams are born."

One figure lone, a silhouette,
Against the morning sky is traced,
A solemn, silent worshipper,
Whose love for God on beauty's based.

A chill and clear new morning breeze.
Awakes the soul to fairer dreams.
While soft upon the body plays,
The faint sweet warmth of sunlight beams.

Moonlight World

The moonlight has a strange effect
On things of ordinary life,
A shadow fairyland is mine,
Where yesterday a playground stood.
A hush'ed silence, solemn, still,
Where children rompled and played with glee.
A classic Roman ruins here,
Where light of day reveals a school.
I break the silence as I cross,
Once over I look back to see,
My moonlight dream has disappeared,
But I'll come back again some night.

Night Spell

What speaks the night,
To my benighted sight,
Celestial gems,
Their portents tell,
In purest rays,
Like lovers lays,
Set in basalt
Of heaven's vault,
They chain me well
In Circean spell,
So cries my soul,
As peace enfolds it whole.

Skies

I love the skies:
Night skies;
     Blue black, star-jetted;
     Murky, misty, the slow
     majestic roll of clouds.
Morning skies;
     Steel gray, tinted in the east,
      by the faintest flush;
        Cold, blue-gray,
       hugging the earth. 
Day skies;
       Wispy clouds, brilliance 
        of blue porcelain.
        Cloudy, sunlit stairway 
        to the clouds,
        Clouds, changing from
         tattle-tale gray to 
         translucent pink.
Evening clouds:
        Pastel rainbow in the west,
         slow shadows in the east.
      

Dreams

The Cloudland

While dreaming late one summer eve
Upon a dewy hill,
I thought a cloud swept close to me,
And stood a moment still.

Upon it's soft and yielding bulk,
I laid mysetl to rest,
And while it swept across the skies,
I slept in peace full blest.

My ears a trilling note then heard,
That stirred my dreaming heart,
The air still quivered from it's touch,
As flesh would from a dart.

Then up I rose and looked about,
To see what lay before,
And there beheld a misty horde,
That numbered several score.

I stepped in silence from the cloud,
And then I felt a thrill,
And while new glories I beheld,
I woke upon the hill.

Fairyland

A blue and limpid mirror, once
I found, while walking all alone.
'Twas set amidst the green of spring,
As if it were a precious gem,
And in the depths, I saw a flash,
A silver ray, a sudden gleam,
As far below a fish had gone,
From shadowed nook to shadowed nook,
And then from just above, I heard,
A cheery, festive little song,
A dweller of the realm, I saw.
He sang a welcome to my heart,
And did not seem to care that I
Was not a native of his land.

Lost dreams

The fleeting wisp of a dream
Slipped silent through my mind,
As I awoke, and then was gone.
How to trace that elusive thought,
Which seemed to hold some important word,
Some message from the inner self.
Too soon the door is closed,
And vain is the pursuit.
But when a dream is finally caught,
The message seems so pale, so trite.
Could all be so, or could it be,
The important messages silenced,
The lightest only permitted through,
An inner censor so unwilling,
To disturb the even tenor of our lives.

Sleep

I closed my eyes, so short a time,
And then my soul was swept away,
In drowsy langour, wamth and still,
The buzzing voices haunted me,
But mist-like soon, they faded all,
And slumber held my strength and will.

Awakening, I felt a chill,
But not of body quite, but soul,
It seemed the touch of alien hands,
That dragged me from my peaceful home,
Where I had been content to stay,
But now I lie on life's sad strands.

Lassitude

Drifting, drifting, cloud-soft dreams,
Idle heart and idle hands,
Mind quite free and body still,
Drifting onto fancy's strands,

All the fairy tale desires,
All the dreams of lonely hearts,
Blissfully depart, fulfilled,
Now fulfilled in all their parts.

Dream Palace

A palace I will build,
Of words and dreams alone
Untouched by any hand,
Unseen by any eye,
Seen alone by heart and mind,
A place of peace and joy sublime.

No stone or mortar structure,
The roof of streaming cloud
To let the sun shine in,
The walls of gossamer,
The floors of dream mist made,
Where only Psyche's feet may tread,
And no gross flesh intrude.

A music room there would be,
Invisible players, singers, too,
Sendig forth nearly silent
Melodies from life's beginning,
To enrich the spirit of today,
Ethereal melodies to delight
The heart of all who can hear.

No archers would stand upon.,
Ramparts invisible,  bur from,
Them would flow a sweet accord,
As a music sending peace,
Throughout all the world.
Such a palace would I build.







.

Story Poems

(This one is a take off on Sax Rohmer's
 Dr. Fu Manchu stories)

My Oriental Jewel

I turned my eyes upon a scene,
Completely strange, an alien sight,
Where wine-red vied with golden sheen,
With sea green drapes on ev'ry side.

"It's but a dream", t thought, then stared,
For on one side, the curtains swayed,
As if one wondered how I fared,
But stood a moment, hesitant.

My eyes were held upon that place,
Impatient, yearning --- then a hand,
As white as clouds, with ev'ry grace,
So slowly moved the drapes aside.

And there revealed to my awed gaze,
A face as lovley as a dream,
She looked at me as in amaze,
Then shyly stepped within the room.

No Occidental girl --- this lass,
She bore the look of China's world,
And with no doubt, the highest class,
Possessing wisdom, beauty, too.

My soul knelt there before her feet,
For such a one could not be real,
There could not be a smile so sweet,
Nor glances so compassionate.

Her gown was shimm'ring in the light,
In all the pastel rainbow shades,
She wore one gem, a jewel so bright,
Aquamarine, her eyes deep shade.

Her voice was low, but sweetly clear,
As she then spoke and said to me,
"You are, dear friend, imprisoned here,
Because of father's whim and will.

And what he's planned, I do not know.
But you must not remain, I fear."
So, pointing out the way to go,
She watched a second, then was gone.

And still I would go back again,
And face whatever waits me there,
If she would welcome me and then,
Perhaps, admit, I have her love.

The Moment

Light laughter flowed like golden wine,
From youthful hearts and lips,
The air was free and life was young,
Among the happy crowd.

But then one came and sat him down,
And tension seemed to grow,
Two pair of eyes, that sought his face
And one then turned away.

The free and merry comradeship.
Had vanished when he came,
For now a stealthy watchfulness
Held reign where joy had been.

She noted that he held her hand,
And saw the loving look,
And felt a chilling in her breast,
For jealousy held sway.

And then he left and life was dead,
The silence was a pall.
The others found their voice again,
The moment's tension o'er.

But in one heart the spark was dead,
The smile no more returned,
One dream had vanished in that time,
And would not bloom again.

Death

As night's dark shadows fell o'er all,
A boy and girl, so loath to part,
Were standing in the quiet hall,
For love had blossomed in each heart.

They never dreamed the end had come
Nor that this day would be the last,
For sure, their love would not be dumb,
If they had known their dreams were past.

But morning light brought sorrows deep,
For now the boy stood by her bed,
Where sweet she lay, as if asleep,
But even love can't wake the dead.

He kisses now those quiet lips,
That once had smiled on him.
And in his speech, he halting, trips,
While blurred by tears, his sight grows dim.

"My castles in the air are gone ---
Now what have I to do with life,
Destroyed, the picture I had drawn,
Of us, as loving man and wife.

Our children 'round the floor would play,
Or such had been my happy dream,
But it has been destroyed today,
By loss of her, whom life I deem."

His mother, vainly tried to still,
His sorrow-laden bitter tears.
Which tore the very soul and will,
And raised a mother's fondest fears

But soon from out that room he fled,
And crazy, wild, he ran along,
For in his mind, he saw her dead,
Who late, had been, his love's own song.

But mother love must follow yet,
And so she saw the sorry sight,
As from his heart, the life was let,
While still his eyes saw fading light.

And as she watched, she saw him smile,
A smile that bade "good-by" to life,
But said "hello" to joy, meanwhile,
As he beheld his heavenly wife.

Night's Angels

Now night's grey canopy is drawn,
And all the actors sleep,
Behind the scenes God's angels work,
As mortals slumber deep.

One angel'e task to portion dreams,
To change a hardened heart,
Or give a lonely lover hope,
Or just God's peace impart.

Another watches by those beds,
Where life's brave light burns low,
And sweetly soothes the falt'ring fears,
That souls near death must know.

Another angel's blessed hand,
Cools fever'd brow and brain,
And ling'ring close gives strengh divine,
To withstand grief and pain.

By newlyweds, another stays
God's love so sweet bestows,
And in the glory of their love,
The angel's joy still grows,

The mother's fears are soon allayed,
An angel comforts her,
So filled with peace, she stills her child,
Whom night dreams strange did stir.

So all the folk and all the friends,
That in this world reside,
Are watched and helped and taught at night,
By angels at their side.

So ev'ry night, before I sleep,
I raise a solemn prayer,
Thar God might send an angel's love,
To guard you ev'rywhere.

Friendship and Friends

Dearest Friend

A friend is one who will forget,
And more, forgive, your cruel words,
Prepared to help when things go wrong,
And with his strength, your weakness girds.

But not alone in troub'lous times,
Is he to be depended on,
A simple task, a small request.
He hears and does, before he's gone.

What is Friendship?

A friendship is a virile thing,
That takes the knocks and jolts of life..
And stands the firmer through the strife.

A friendship is a gentle thing,
So full of sympathy and love,
In harmony with God above.

A friendship is a quiet thing,
So wordy speech it does without,
And with a handclasp chases doubt.

A friendship is a blessed thing,
When friends are so forgiving, too,
And let you know they'll e'er be true.

Friendship

If one true friend, you know you have,
Then, pray, dear child, why mourn so much,
For friendship is a rarer gift,
Than gold or furs or costly jewels.

And blessed is the one who knows,
The blessing of that kind of love,
That true and loyal friendship gives,
To all who join her ranks of joy.

And friendship has a gentle way,
Of knowing all the things you need,
Before your lips have opened yet,
To say the words to make them known.

So smile, my child, and frown no more,
The loss is not too great to bear,
At petty troubles, little glooms,
Just smile and go to tell your friend.

David

I miss that friend I used to seek,
When things went wrong and I was blue,
Who listened to me, rave and speak,
Bewildered, as to what to do.

It was to him I told my woes,
My troubles and my sorry tales,
To him my heart would soon disclose,
The themes on which my tongue oft fails.

He listened with a kindliness
Few other friends know how to show,
And by his very gentleness,
He helped my sorrow overthrow.

Now when he comes again to us,
Then it will be my honored right.
To listen to his dreams and thus,
Shall try to help his plans go right.

My Sister

The pretty lassie, deep in dreams,
Sits unaware of gentle eyes,
That watch with sweet solicitude,
Still sympathizing with her sighs.

With eyes, unseeing, blind to all,
She stares into a distant time,
Not knowing that her beauty is
At this one moment, most subline.

Martha

Martha has such pretty eyes,
So deep and full of mystery,
Inscrutable designs
Are in their magic poetry

To Margaret

I walked with memories today,
And felt your presence all the way,
Though you won't walk again with me,
It seemed to me that I would see
If I should turn, you would be there,
As once you were in days more fair.

For Minnie

9:00, the phone rings, and it's you,
Asking "Are you okay", I answer, ask the same,
Assuring each of the other's well being,
Our lives were spent apart, but once we met,
Our friendship quickly grew.
We shared our problems, shared our joys,
As concern for the other grew.
Some there are, who can count,
Friends from childhood, but we
Who have met in later years,
Still have the blessing,
Of being "best friends"
As we grow old together.

To Carol

Do you remember ...
How we would sit outside and talk,
Until your husband came home?
How you introduced me to artichoke?
Do you remember ...
The night of the apartment fire,
You knocked on my window,
Insisted I get up and come out,
Until things got settled down?
De you remember ...
How Delores, you and I went to lunch,
So many times, enjoying the company?

And then you moved away,
And Delores moved away,
And then I moved even farther away,
But we still kept in touch.
Now Delores is gone,
And we can't travel any more,
But we do remember,
The happy days and each other.

Felicia

There are  those who
When you have a problem,
Commisserate or sympathize,
Which is welcome, but.
Cannot really help.

But then there are
'Those blessed few, who
Say "I can do it" "I can help".
To those whom they do help,
They wear the "halo" of a saint,
But with so much humility.

You are one of those,
Who can be so considered.
As such, as we can testify,
Are a true friend, for whom,
We are extremely grateful.

To Shirley

First a friend, beloved friend,
Then a helper, always willing,
Until the tasks became too much,
But still a friend, always a friend.
Yet, when difficulties came,
And necessity came knocking,
Your answered that call,
Counting not the cost to health,
Giving as you always have,
So, if we two, should award you,
A medal for love and friendship,
You should never, never refuse
To accept the token of your worth.

Christmas Thoughts.

Christmas Gifts


We're shopping now for Christmas gifts,
Around the busy store,
Our arms are full, our pockets light,
And ev'ry muscles sore.




The ring for Sis is now a shirt,
We know she wanted it.
We've searched and pondered all day long
And now we'd like to sit.


In wrappings gay, our gifts will make
Their family premiere,
Of their reception by our friends,
We really have no fear.


But, oh, the mess about the house,
When all the gifts are seen,
It's really quite a little task,
To make the house look clean.


Christmas Night


The stars shine bright in wint'ry skies,
While angels sing their lullabies,
On Christmas night.


The shepherds saw the shining star,
That led the wise men from afar,
One Christmas night.


The Babe, so sweet, was wrapt in sleep
But every soul fond watch did keep,
That Christmas night.


The Christmas story told again,
The hope of all the world of men,
This Christmas night.


Sweet gifts, kind words, the world will give
To prove that Jesus still does live,
This Christmas night.


Santa Claus


Is there a Santa?" Donnie asks,
Come, put away your chemistry,
Your logic and your sciences,
And help him solve this mystery.


No chemical experiment,
Reveals to you, the spell that wins,
The children's sweet, adoring love,
Is it, perhaps, those merry grins?


That logic book won't help explain,
The wond'rous mystery of him,
And Einstein's theories are no use.
Beside his glory, they grow dim.


So, tell the child in simplist words,
The story of this Christmas Saint,
He'll have cold facts so long to keep,
Illusions all too soon, grow faint.


Goodwill to Men


At Christmas time, all hearts should join,
In tenderness and love,
Forgotten all the angry words,
Each day ruled by the dove.


The hearts that once were sweet and light,
With love's own blessed glow,
These days should once again regain,
The joys they once did know.


And though I cannot hope my prayer,
Shall ever yet come true,
Yet God is love and love is all
And I still love you true.


The Christmas Spirit


I know it's Christmas now, because,
Of the clear lovely caroling,
Of the gaudy, tinseled, ornamented tree,
Of the spicy, sweet Christmas cookies,
Of the clear, tinkling of the bells,
Of the pure whiteness of the undisturbed snow,
Of the tangy, piney smell pervading the house,
Of the merry, gladsome children's laughter,
Of the disorderly festiveness of the rooms,
Of the mouth watering scent of the sumptuous Christmas dinner
Of the whirr of a toy train, as it flies around the track,
Of the bulging stuffed stockings in front of the fireplace,
Of the holiday fuss and bustle about everything.
Of the children's screams of surprise and delight,
Of the sudden arrival of welcome, though unexpected guests,
Of the beautiful, though simple tale of the Wise Men, the
   shepherds, and the Babe.


The Little Engine at Christmas


They took him out of storage at Christmas at the mall,
Set the "little engine that could" on his tracks,
Stood him up, all shiny and polished beatifully,
Then puffing away, he headed for the steep, little hill,
Yes, the steep little hill, remember this was in a mall,
Then puffing away "I think I can, I know I can,
Yes, I can". he reached the top of the hill, with a
A joyous, triumphant whistle. The childrten laughed,
Clapped their hands, the old folks smiled,
No one frowned, no child cried at that whistle,
So he continued his rounds during the Christmas
Season, giving a chipper whistle, when he passed,
The Santa village, answering the waves of Santa
And the elves each time he passed. Every face wore
A smile as they went on their way, cheering the little
Engine, Then when the Christmas Season was over,
They took the little engine to put him to rest,
To sleep, to dream of Christmas to come.
When he could once again cheer people with his
Perky, joyous spirit and whistle.

Musical Themes

The Whistler


In the night, a little sprite,
Cast a whistle, small but bright,
From the walls, it echoed back,
Now, to the
Passerby, on the street,
It comes, on
Timid, hesitant lilting feet.


(Heinz Chapel at Pitt prompted this.
  The Chapel was a jewel box of a building
     it's stained glass windows, beautiful)


The Organ


So softly through the building comes,
The light, sweet-sounding organ tones,
They steal upon the hearer with
A shy, but gently loving touch,
And on the echoes of their voice,
They bear the sweetness of a gift,
That brings to life the heart's own chords,
Of dreams divine and soul-known quests,
For beauties that are not of earth,
The moment they endow with bliss,
As softly, tenderly, they give,
To hearts a knowledge of the gifts,
That bless their lives with graciousness.

Earth Tragedy

Lost Woods


It was lovely, no giant redwoods there,
But weeds, cactus, yucca,
Still it was lovely, with secret paths,
And pocket meadows, that were known to few,
But someone owned the land,
Decided that green trees and plants,
Were not as important as green money,
And sold it to a company to build stores,
Now there is only a hole in the ground,
All the beauty is gone, 
All we have is a memory.


The Destroyers


We have been hit with a dreadful blight,
Called "Forum Disease",
It mows down trees like grass,
Destroying habitats, leaving birds and animals bereft,
The land is barren wasteland, beauty lost,
The cause, an application of green backs,
Applied indiscriminately to wide areas,
As a supposed improvement of the local area,
The disease has been a destroyer instead.


A Call to the Past


I mourn, I mourn, for all the earth,
And all the people of the earth,
For all living and non-living things of the earth,
For it is being desroyed and no one seems to care.


So I call to you who have gone ahead,
To speak to those still here in flesh,
Send them dreams, terrible, horrific dreams,
To wake their consciences, but if they have none,
Waken them to a conscience.


You who have gone ahead
Surely have no greed or hatred,
Need no position, status or clan rivalry,
Teach in dreams how useless these things are.


Speak in dreams to those who,
At sometime held you in honor,
Let them know that honor is better than wealth,
That their children of the future,
Will be more grateful for a living earth
Then for title, positon or great wealth.


So, I call to you, since those who are here
At present, who try to waken people,
Have been reviled, ignored or taunted,
For willling to care.


I mounr, I mourn, so I call to you,
Will you answer to help the earth
And the people?