Claire V. Bogdanos


MATURITY ( 1978 ) 2013/02/22

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 2:44 pm
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There’s a trembling in my heart, a quivering in my hand,

Just the slightest hint of swirling fluttering where I stand,

A surging rushing  warmth flowing to my utmost parts,

Confusion o’ercoming me with flushing stops and starts,

A headiness and joy that seems now overbearing

Throbbing with desire, timeless thrill beyond comparing,

A timid fascination with thoughts that breathe unreal,

Perchance to open hidden doors and to my heart appeal.

To know that I have passed the age of recognition

With halting hope to dare enthralling expedition

Into the realm I dreamt beyond my aspiration,

There bask in subtle wisps of tender adulation,

To grasp for fleeting time, life’s mute love, morsels glowing

Gentle years no more alone, abide with grace bestowing.


COLOR ( 1963 ) 2013/02/20

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 7:13 pm
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Pink and blue and maize and white

Shades of green from dark to light

Colors bathed with sunshine bright

Cheerful rainbow of delight,

Their bold brilliance blinding me

For it’s all the eye can see

Beauty fair reminding me

Of God’s massive pageantry.


See love and care, row on row

Flowers in a garden grow

Showing us the scant we know

Of things above, things below.

For this earth’s been gayly crowned

Blessings flow and wealth abound,


Flourish both with sight and sound

In display born of the ground.

When you look upon the hill

Laugh with each glad daffodil

Absorb the joyous sight until

Both heart and mind wax ever still.



Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 7:05 pm
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This juncture in time converging slowly with pride

To sort out the goals that are rebelling inside,

Emotional waves flooding the vision obscure

Mediocrity blames an environ demure,

For truth be it known dwindles and fades forbidden

Like the sun from the eyes by a storm cloud hidden.

To seek what is real a task worth compelling

With a righteous anger rising and swelling,

That choice which is made with its judgement deriving

From the depth of the heart and object surviving.


To settle for less, but continue existing

With an absolute will and madness resisting,

Or to strive for a course which endows not our aim

And lies beyond the reach of skills from which we came

Thus find this brief want an indelicate desire,

Arrogant thought amiss, in our race to aspire,

Zealously working in a manner fulfilling,

Escape not the ruse with the subject unwilling.

An apparition that clings to motive intense,

This spectre of a dream persists in seeming sense

Yet knowing in the end, we chose a path unreal

With a wish to consume and the need to conceal.


Hence, settling for less with a passion abounding

Accepting a road steeped in safety astounding

Reaching a moment of decision too callous,

Reality demands truth, bred without malice,

To desert that hope for which we struggled too long

And so seek out a place where our cares can belong.

It’s a delicate ghost of this longing we share

That we’ll call second best adapt, rather than dare,

And stand before the signpost, caution force delay,

Crossroads of our lives can our weaknesses betray.


PREJUDICE ( 1954 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 6:43 pm
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Little children, tan and white,

Helpless infants, black and brown,

Colored skins, from dark to light,

East to west, both up and down,

God’s small creatures, one and all,

Born without a hint of hate,

As they grow, some short, some tall,

Learn too fast, aware too late.


TRAVELER ( 1974 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 6:37 pm
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It’s a hazy colored sky I see,

longing to be home, once more freely

To bathe again in the warm sunlight

and in our horizon  blue delight.

Far borders call as distant shore sings,

“Come fly away on light fairy wings.”

Then scan magic coasts of foreign lands,

enjoy subtle tides with shifting sands,

Share bold sights of untold magnitude,

traverse worlds that dwell in solitude!

Oh, weary traveler, why so pale?

Seek yet other scenes with mount and vale,

Trek many a mile with lonely heart,

to find each end akin to the start.

Yonder we search and hither we go,

floss on the breeze, the winds do us blow.

In our quest for the wisdom we seek,

truths that exist have not power to speak,

When this wayward wanderer needs rest,

remember, home remains still the best.


CADENZA ( 1956 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 6:32 pm
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To see thy face for but once more to know thy gentle smile

To feel again your warm embrace and hold your fond caress

Close to my heart, then let you go and knowing all the while

That this will be the last of you that ever I’ll possess.

Twould be enough to suffer me and last my whole life through

When time will make it seem as though we two have never met,

And newer fancy fondle me, breath dreams and hope anew

Into my breast with vengeance praying soon that I’ll forget.


Forget you love, this cannot be for all the years that lie ahead

A single rose will bring the pain of loving you and losing,

Thus I shall know that when you left this love was waning old and dread,

The task is left for me too soon the path of life in choosing

Wherefore I’ll walk alone and sad with tears and deep regret,

And pray that you remember still that all of love cannot be torn

From your bosom, that lingers still a tear which can’t forget.

So ends our love, our paths have crossed and love thus done, leaves us forlorn.



Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 6:30 pm
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Speak gentle words and kindly words and words of heart’s content

Speak tender words and honest words and words of love well meant,

Tell softly in the shadows, and whisper in the rain,

With gladness when there’s laughter, in silence when there’s pain.

For words when steeped in passion, as arrows carry grief,

Fall harsh upon the hearing as wicked as a thief.

Though time, the faithful healer wil mend the broken bone

For illness of the wounded heart, no cure by man be known.


Within the limits of man’s lifespan, very brief indeed,

He’s given the tools to guide him, to fail or to succeed,

And among the very least of these was the gracious gift

Of voice with the magic power to love, and laugh, and lift.

And in all justice fairly, in the truth of every word,

Will the merit of each man, in finality be heard.


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