These poems were written by me when I lived in Syracuse, New York in the 1960's. I was in my late 20's. Hope you enjoy them.
As the little children sadly watched their mommy comb her hair.
She was going to a party-leaving them at home alone
And the tears in their eyes glistened as they begged her not to roam;
But the mother heeded neither-children nor their childish pleas
As she left,she heard them whisper, "Please, Mommy, Stay home with me."
It was storming and the children were as frightened as could be
But mother locked them in and hurried to enjoy her nightly spree.
Now their Daddy loved them greatly; if-dear God-He were but here
But God had taken their dear Daddy, in a train wreck just last year.
So the children cried together, nestling in each others arms
Trying, even in their sadness, to keep the other one from harm.
But the storm kept raging louder-lightning flashed and thunder roared
And the rain poured down in torrents, just outside the huge, locked door.
Later on, in all the stillness, someone came-unlocked the door,
Gasping at the little figures, lying still-upon the floor
for the lightning had been fatal and the children lay there-dead
With their arms still 'round each other, dampened curls upon their heads
But the smiles were on their lips now and from their eyes all tears were cast
For Daddy-whom they loved so much-had come for them at last!!
Just across the meadow is a shady little nook
With a little cottage settled by a pretty bubbling brook.
There is a little playhouse in the corner of the yard.
There is a bike, a dolly and a lot of little cars.
There's a boat that Dad was painting for a fishing trip this fall.
There's the dress that Mom was making for Sally's little doll
But the pretty dolly is covered with dust, waiting for Sally, so dear
And the bike in the driveway is covered with rust, waiting for Bill to appear.
The paint is peeling on Dad's boat - the dress is full of moths,
The dolly's dress that Mom was making from the woolen cloth.
The rain is coming down now where the sunshine used to call
While around the pretty cottage, the grass is growing tall;
For Daddy took the family riding, one bright and sunny day
But somehow, on the railroad tracks, a train got in the way.
Now the doll and bike; the boat and dress; all just wait in vain
'Cause all their waiting cannot bring that family back again!
Just around the corner where love and kindness meet
Is a pretty little village which the whole world seeks.
But the only ones to find it are the pure of heart and deed,
Those who live by the Bible and the Savior's words do heed.
There's the garden of the roses and just down the road a ways
Are houses made of happiness, that's where the angels stay.
Further on you'll see a cavern - Moonbeam Cavern is its name,
Where the moonbeams sleep in daylight before they start their nightly game.
Right close by is Starlight Canyon where the shining stars all rest;
Before they start their nightly journey to the East and to the West.
You'll see the sparkling waters which fall from the sky above.
You'll see the little bluebird and the pretty little dove.
You'll hear the robin redbreast singing to you from the tree.
You'll come to Birdland Haven where the pretty birds are free.
Where there are no caged canaries and they fly free with the rest;
And the birds are all singing and all have their own nests.
They all have food aplenty and no winter snows come here.
There is no cat to chase them or fill their hearts with fear.
Among all of these riches, you will live among the flowers.
You'll be kissed by morning glories and the whole world will be yours.
How will you get there - to this land - filled with beauty and with love?
Why just follow the bluebird to his haven there above.
Just beyong the Rainbow where hearts are pure and sweet,
Is the pretty little village which the whole world seeks!
She was reminiscing, this lady fair;
Sitting alone in her old rocking chair,
Thinking back to the day she first was wed;
The church - where she - her marriage vows said;
Remembering how the moon that night
Had shown just as brightly as it did tonight.
"For better, for worse; for richer, for poorer,"
She'd repeated these words, many times over.
The better times came and she had a baby.
The years passed and her baby became a young lady.
But the better days were replaced by the worse
'Cause her husband left her one day for a nurse
Who was younger and pretty with shining gold hair.
She had bright blue eyes and complexion fair.
Not long after this catastrophe fell,
Her daughter had been sent to a prison cell
For stealing - oh, just trifling things,
For thrills that money couldn't bring.
A year from now - maybe two or three,
Where would her daughter and husband be?
Perhaps on a far and distant shore;
But this little old lady would be here once more,
With the moon shining bright on her silvery hair,
Just reminiscing in her old rocking chair.
As I sit here by the window wondering what chance brought me here
I think back to happier mem'ries, visions which become quite clear.
I can see the distant sun's glow as it's setting in the west;
Far beyond the crowded city where the people lie and jest.
Way out on the blue horizon where the sun sinks in the west
There are trees along the mountains where the bluejays build their nests.
Far beyond the tall brick buildings which hide the view from children's eyes
Are the beauteous springtime flowers and the heavenly blue skies.
Far beyond this lonely city - deathly, dirty, sinful, cold -
Lies a westward door to Heaven with all the joys that life can hold.
There's a soft breeze blowing somewhere in the crisp clean mountain air.
There are sparkling waters flowing to some hidden unknown lair.
There are flowers growing upward in the sunshine and the rain.
Such wild beauty as is given; will ne'er be found again.
I can hear the rattling trolleys as they run along the track.
I can hear the police sirens as they bring a prisoner back.
So you wander in your city with its loud noise and bright lights
But give me a campfire burning under God's great starry night.
And you keep your great huge mansion that is close to city square
But give me my lakeside cottage with the roses entwined there.
And instead of rude awakenings to a siren, sharp and shrill;
I shall fall asleep each evening to the meadowlark's sweet trill.
I shall watch the sun sink slowly down beneath the mountain high
And shall close my eyes in slumber knowing God is real close by.
Watching o'er the western ranges where all nature's gone to rest;
Watching - in the moonlight shining on the land that God loves best.
Oh, the winter time is coming and the snows and all the cold.
Gee, I dread the thought of winter - guess I must be getting old.
I remember in the olden days, winter was my fav'rite season.
We kids spent all our time outdoors and didn't think of freezin'.
Oh, the snow fell on the treetops and the fields became so white
And the ice froze on the small lake making it a glassy sight.
Then we'd take our skates and sleds and all that we had found.
We'd bundle up in muffs and mittens and into the winter we'd be bound.
We'd spend all day just skiing or sliding on the slope
Or,perhaps, today we'll skate a bit. The ice is safe - I hope!
Or maybe today Mom would say, "Children, I have a surprise."
And then Father would hook up the sleigh and over the snow we'd fly.
Perhaps bound for a picnic on snowy crest or perhaps for a ride in the park
Or maybe to Grandma's for dinner. We'd never get home before dark.
And always after reaching home we'd be without a care
With Mother popping us some corn or pulling taffy there.
We'd sit before the fireside while Father told us tales
That sounded-oh-so real to us, We thought that we were there.
Yes, Winter brings happy mem'ries and thinking of years so grand,
I wonder why old Father Time has to take us by the hand.
Now as the winter time comes in I have only memories
But I sit before my fire and wish for the good old used to be.
