Claire V. Bogdanos

POEMS….THOUGHTS…..MEMORIES

EPITAPH ( 1961 ) 2013/02/14

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:54 pm
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In our small town so long ago, a rose dwelt, we presume

She was her father’s pride and joy it says so on her tomb.

When other lesser buds were bursting and had spread their bloom

Her radiance remained to blossom and to fill each room.

 

Abundant suitors came to pluck this rose fore it full grew

They flocked about as bees that buzz to suckle and to woo.

“ My primrose young pay them no mind,” indeed papa, he knew

That age must pay with vapid tears, for youth that reckless flew.

 

As years passed swiftly autumn took the color from her cheek,

Papa grew old to wander in delusions of the weak.

At length her safety preyed upon his mind and thus he’d speak,

“ Take care my child, this world endows that which devours the meek.”

 

Now many a young buck had come to sup and dance and wine,

While many a shy lad could only pass and glance and pine.

This wilting flower stood alone there withered on the vine

For one last heartsick boy to beg anew, “ Wilt thou be mine? ”

 

Papa, he died and left her with no love to be consoled,

Her prime had done, her virtue cherished and now worn like gold.

One final suitor dared to step into her life so bold

With courage strong just ere that gentle bud had grown too cold

 

He sought her hand, alas, she could not love him though she knew,

Her father’s words there echoed in her mind with force rung true.

She turned away that lonesome lad with wistful weeping rue,

He came no more he traveled on his way to pastures new.

 

This tender timid rose left clinging to youth’s lost sunshine

Some lonely fragment that was plucked not from its slow decline.

False caution willed that heart to linger ever on old vine

Where sense and fear were elements necessity combined.

 

THE DEATH OF A STAR ( 1953 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:53 pm
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Upon one night that was quiet resting

without a single star

Within that realm we cannot touch because

its contents live too far,

A comet journeyed through space and sped

across the pathway of sight

Its distant splintered trail did fail to break

the stillness of the night

And left behind for brief moments,

a sprinkling of glittering dust

Then spread itself apart in exorcise

for disappear it must.

I wonder now as I reflect upon

the scope of what I’d seen

How many a soul, who looking up has

spied that which rests between

The trembling earth and far-off heaven’s vast

and unchartered domain,

Space that exists in spite of awesome passions

in all that remain

Once where Apollo strode across the ancient

footstool of the sky

While lithesome Mercury did there his playful

lust for speech apply,

And streaked about that wide expanse mankind had

 labeled celestial,

Touching not on boundaries that are coursing

earth’s terrestial,

Yet seeming to pursue some unrestricted

end with gain supreme,

Wherein planet, moon and star react to

cycles each may redeem.

There with some complicated astronomer’s

tool to find and trace

A pattern that explains how each remembers

their specific place

Knowing one force guides this universe

with unrelenting power

Controlling the slowest movement that marks

each minute, counts each hour.

A lesson we’ve found to be constant and

true this power exists

With a will that is strong wavering not

and one plan that persists.

Search among the learning of the past while

interest piques the mind

And delving through Homer’s expertise forthwith

to some wisdom find,

Finally to conclude that man must in

his endless questing be

The simplest transiting creature that dwells

within infinity :

Let our reason be such while we follow each star

As it crests in the sky at some distance too far,

Never losing the faith that depends on our sight,

Fail to shatter the darkness which we’ll call the night

Ere time greets that moment when we pass into dust,

Know the ends of our lives are a natural must.

 

THE GIFT I GIVE AWAY ( 1954 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:51 pm
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Lord I am alone and troubled query why

Is love a gift for some that time will deny,

Yet dear as the breath we each require to live

That one passion which is the suitors to give,

The martyr his cross and the artist his pain

The poet his muse and the miser his gain?

While Paris bold stood at the great gates of Troy

The love of that maid would his whole world destroy.

Love cannot reason or truly count its cost

See Othello, his Desdemona has lost.

Some fools that impatience in love surely grows

Whose victims we are that the mind never knows

For the want in their hearts do wither and pine

Drowning deep in lifes flask of bittersweet wine.

 

What love can produce the contentment we’re told?

Its visions of glory must slowly unfold

Amid thorny moments and troublesome days

Where dwells loss as it goes or fear as it stays.

If I am thus sought why so alone then I ?

Still safer my life whence to suffer or sigh

However apart, rather spare me the need

Of a lover who’ll grant me care without heed.

 

NEW YEAR ( 2001 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:47 pm
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Once more we face a challenge strong

To seek one place where we belong

Or find one cause that we can heed

To follow where new paths may lead.

 

ON LOVE’S BLINDNESS ( 1950 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:45 pm
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That love to man her blindness aptly guise,

And guileless woos him yet her guilt denies,

When in her haste the battle challenge take,

And thus to win humility forsake.

 

TO SUCCESS ( 1985 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:42 pm
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Success, that intangible something,

certainly not a finished product for

which there exists one definable formula,

is perhaps the only desirable result of

attempt and achievement.  However what

is considered success for one may just

be another’s concept of failure.

 

CLOUDS ARE…..( 1959 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:41 pm
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Pristine altars, bared beneath the stretch of

neatly chapeled skies

Where faithful sun and jealous moon ever

swiftly fall and rise,

Sharing grand inverted passion while the

breadth of sky belies

There exists one scheduled fashion that sails

on in wind’s disguise.

 

 
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