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Poet's Parlor ...
11 O'CLOCK OF THE 11th DAY OF THE 11th MONTH OF THE 11th YEAR
Edna Michaelson Baker (November 1929)
The whistles blew!
The bells rang loud!
Great cheers went up
From every crowd!
The cannon boomed!
The flags looked gay!
Each heart beat high!
Armistice Day!
CALIFORNIA DESERT
Jackie Walker (1999)
Nature’s pastel patchwork is a wind-blown, sand-made quilt.
An embroidery of color made from shell and stone and silt.
With laughing red-dressed monkey buds, riotous in their mirth
She decorates her landscape for celebration and rebirth.
Tall, spiked ocotillo, with surprising bright red plumes,
And chubby barrel cactus showing off their springtime blooms.
Lavender laid-back mountains, rising stately and serene;
All speak of her sweet power as she redefines the scene.
Daisies yellow, white and red, pad blooms of pink and rose.
Tiny golden buttercups, no taller than my toes!
Cat’s claw reaching out for you, bidding you to stay.
Enjoy the beauty of this scene; enjoy this desert day!
CAN IT BE
Ellen Carpentier Stone
My heart is not lonely, my heart is not sad
Losing your love can’t be so bad
I’ll dance, I’ll sing, my head held high
For that which was lost my heart shall not sigh.
Somewhere, some day as I make my way
Through hours and days of hope ever strong,
Someone will meet me on the path of time
And offer to me a truer love song.
THE CHRISTMAS LIGHT
Ellen Carpentier Stone
The greens are gathered and hung,
Christmas tree tinsel and lights are strung.
Stockings hang all in a row;
The yule log embers flicker and glow.
The year that is old meets here
With prayers and gifts and carols of cheer.
All are waiting for the light
Of He who is born again this Holy Night.
DIANA
WAS THE PRINCESS OF LOVE
Jacalyn
A. Schwalm (September 1997)
Is
it only now that we know what we've lost?
The
ones she needed to love her, are paying the cost.
Her
candle did burn out by an unexpected rain,
Her
unspoken sadness, Does Charles now feel her pain?
Her
heart wept for others, When inside she suffered shame,
The
world lost a majesty, A true dove that heaven gained.
Diana
will always be our princess, Oh,
how her stay was brief.
God
has her in His care now For heaven's dove there's no more grief.
DIARY
Edna Michaelson Baker (June 1929)
Four little kids had a great ol' time
And forgot happiness had a price,
Four little kids played the game straight through
Kinda naughty - but oh, so nice.
Four little kids had a rosy dream
Filled with laughter and dance and song.
Four little kids called the world their own
But a dream world can never last long.
And the dream of the four little kids had to end;
Now there are four young hearts devastated.
And four little kids know the meaning of "blue" --
But gee, it was great while it lasted.
IT'S OURS
Ellen Carpentier Stone
Time moves on, my love
And shadows are growing long
We’re here to live, my love
And not alone.
Goodness and joy to the good will bring
And though we’re not as one, let’s live and let live;
And all enjoy the warm, friendly sun.
JAPATUL VALLEY SUNRISE
Jackie Walker (1999)
Parfait layered sunrise in glowing azure skies,
Rosy gold confection for my city-wearied eyes.
Gentle rolling hills clad in amber, gold and green.
A tapestry of color, lovely California scene.
MIGHTY JESUS
Sue Jones
You are greater than the mighty ocean
More powerful than the crashing waves
Your love is more abundant than the air we breath
Yet you came to earth to give, to serve, to save.
With your word you created earth and heaven
With your hand formed each bird and beast and tree
With your mouth breathed out the Holy Spirit
And with your blood you paid to set me free.
Mighty Jesus, mighty Jesus
How powerful are all your words, your ways.
Mighty Jesus, mighty Jesus
Yet you came to give, to serve, to save.
Your power created stars and planets
Yet my sins brought you to your knees
To drink the cup filled with all my sin and shame
And lift that weight and set my spirit free.
You are greater than the mighty ocean
More powerful than the crashing waves
Your love is more abundant than the air we breath
Yet you came to earth to give, to serve, to save.
Mighty Jesus, mighty Jesus
How powerful are all your words, your ways.
Mighty Jesus, mighty Jesus
Yet you came to give, to serve, to save.
NON SMOKING ACCOMMODATION
Jassen
Wishart (October 25, 1999)
The
darkness slips in like a shroud
Enveloping
the awakening fears, swirling and twisting with careless abandon.
Lightning
engulfs the southern sky
The
leaves rustle in the gathering wind, some fly off lost in the gale.
The
bus stop is deserted, burnt out and melted.
A
drunk half staggers, half sways his meandering way along the road
Destination
close in blurred sight.
An
owl hoots from the top of the lamppost, scaring a fox from it's discarded
takeaway
A
lonely pair of headlights rise over the crest, lighting the owls eyes like
torches.
A
taxi follows the headlights, another reveller travelling home
Flapping
along from the other direction, a Tescos bag whirls in the slipstream
Steadies
and flaps itself along the wind, rising high,
Clouding
the moon in a brief period of clarity.
A
diesel engine battles the wind for sound supremacy
A
howl in one ear, a distant roar in the other, headlights piercing the gloom once
more
Slowly
the bus pulls up, and disgorges one lady, well weighed to battle the wind
The
rain starts tapping a staccato on the roof and windows, A flash overhead
Thunder
rumbles very soon after, the driver looks, a question in his eyes
I
flick my cigarette, turn up my collar and walk away
THE SHOOTIST
Jackie
Walker (1991)
Frank
Culver was a shootist of considerable reknown.
He
buried many a brash young man who tried to gun him down.
Weary
of the killing life, he put his guns away,
And
with his bride he settled down in Californi-ay
For
seven years Frank lived the life that was his fondest dream,
Raising
cattle on a ranch beside a sparkling stream.
But
Fate had different plans for Frank and dealt another hand.
He
could not hide from Destiny, not even in this land.
One
warm and sunny morning, Frank came in for supplies,
And
at his side sweet Betsy, love light dancing in her eyes.
Although
they had no children, they both were quite content,
For
having found each other's love, they'd nothing to regret.
The
town drunk was reposing against the hotel wall,
As
weary Doc, with bag in hand, returned home from a call.
The
blacksmith nodded as he passed, saluting with his tongs -
Although
quite short in stature, the smithy was quite strong.
The
barmaid and the gambler ran out in awful fright.
The
color of their faces was a pale and ghostly white.
They
pointed to the bar and cried, "Frank run! Run, save your life!
For
there's a man who swears he'll make a widow of your wife!"
No
sooner said than from the bar a stranger swaggered out,
And
giving Frank an evil look, these words was heard to shout:
"Name
your weapon, Culver, be it gun or be it knife!
I
swore that you would curse the day you took my brother's life!"
"I
have no quarrel with you, my friend."
Was Culver's calm reply.
"That
fight was fairly fought, it was, and no one else need die."
"No
more words!" The stranger
cried, "Unless they're writ with lead!
For
I'll not rest `til one of us has fallen, cold and dead!"
Gathering
Betsy in his arms, Frank bid her step aside,
And
Betsy, clinging desperately, she pleaded and she cried,
Then
slowly walked a little way to stand among her friends,
Who
comforted poor Betsy as she cried and wrung her hands.
As
the gunmen faced each other, the tension mounted fast,
For
the man who died would surely be the one who drew down last.
Two
guns belched their hatred as they split the morning air ...
Both
men lay upon the street ... Death won that awful dare.
THOUGHTS
Ellen Carpentier Stone
What’s new? Nothing that I can see.
It’s all been there for ages
Waiting to be put together
To serve you and me
A bit of this a snip of that
Recipes of every kind
This moment has come again
The time to pause and think
To feel the quiet joyous rain
Of feelings
Oh joy, oh sorrow
This is today, where is tomorrow?
Turn the page, open each door,
A new day will enter for you to explore
The world is ours
The sun, the sea, the countryside
And ours means everyone
Why must we strive to divide?
The world is one with sky and sea-
Can it be the same with you and me?
On
Love
Je vous aime
Je vous adore
Que vous le vous
Te plurs encore.
(I love you, I adore you....
What more can I say?)
On Cheer
The sun rides high and all is great
Friends are nigh, let’s celebrate!
On Fear
The news is bad, the day is dark
Feeling low leaves its mark
On life
Go make thy garden as fair as thou canst
Thou worketh never alone
Perchance he whose plot is next to thine
Will see yours and mind his own.
UNTITLED
Alexandra
Day
It
starts as an illness;
A
slight agitation.
It
grows to a rash
On
the mind of the inflicted.
Then
fed by its victim
On
over-active imagination,
It
develops into a Monster;
A
fictional beast,
All
too real to the
Involuntary
host.
Consuming
its world;
Haunting
the mind.
Its
only mission
Is
mad self-destruction;
To
cause torment and taste
The
exquisite pain.
To
kill all around it;
The
mind that feeds it;
Itself.
Once
accomplished,
It
is dead,
As
is its life source,
And
with it, the love
Destroyed.
WHY?
Jassen
Wishart (August 20, 2000)
Thick
brown hair
Coating
such a small head
Why?
Tiny
fingers
Small
nails perfectly rounded
Why?
Please
grasp my hand
Wrap
those fingers round
Why?
Tiny
button nose
Please
breathe in
Why?
Ruby
red lips
Please
cry out
Why?
Why
was my special wee man
Never
allowed to see the sun
Never
allowed to feel his mummies kiss
Never
able to sit on daddies knee
Why?
If
there is a god
Why
did he take my wee man?
Why
did this happen
Why
was he never given a chance?
Why?
He
will live on forever
In
the hearts of the people who loved him
His
mum, dad and grandparents
No
one will ever answer
Why?
In
memory of Ciaron James Wishart
Born
Aug 16th 2000
Died
Aug 15th 2000
WORRY WORRY
Ellen Carpentier Stone
The cat went for a walk one day
And met a large black purring beast
He lost one life and then hurried away.
I think that left him more at least
He worried and worried and wasted away
To a shadow of his former proud state.
He just couldn’t remember for sure, you see
If the next count was seven or eight.
YOUR ADVICE - TAKEN
Eddie M. Baker (June 1931)
My heart was broken - you didn't care,
You told me brightly to take the air.
My dreams lay in dust but you sought to kid
And said to forget you like the others did.
You laughed and played - then danced on and swore
And said, "Be a sport now and don't get sore."
My heart and my soul lay in crumbling rust,
You called me a fool - I remember that thrust.
But you played with fire and it burned and hurt,
And the bright things you wanted turned cheap as dirt,
So you've asked me to pity you and be nice;
But alas, I have taken your free advice.
I've laughed too loud and danced too long,
I've drank too many and sang a song,
I've whooped it up and I've raised the lid,
I'm forgetting you just like the others did.
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