Claire V. Bogdanos

Acceptance,Knowledge,Love,New Chapter,Process,Wisdom,

AN ICE STORM ( 1964 ) 2013/02/20

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 6:00 pm
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Once was, when rain slashing through the leaves with icy fingers

Sharp bristling sounds, and grasping every supple branch lingers,

And lying there, make graceful form as dancers in the wind

Whose subtle moves subvert the eye and our attention pinned

To beauty heaven brought us, though from a raging fury

Spawned and sustained, yet no moment portraying it dreary.

 

Lacy patterns all aglint that shimmer in the shadow

And with each scalding breeze sing melody in staccato,

That falls on listening ears like whispers in scenario,

Charm us with its bearing of nature’s bold Lothario,

A dramatic display of talent whose author unseen

Dwells far from here exerting passions both wild and serene.

 

WINTER THOUGHTS ( 1965 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 5:54 pm
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Winter winds of unkind passion,

Rushing on rude in your fashion

Hurry, scurry, leaving your chill

Breath catching, harshly cold and still.

Like the winter winds of my life

Hurrying on riddled with strife

Leaving me, season gone, love cold,

Breathing thoughts rife with desire old.

 

Wailing wind make way new pursuit,

Failing time deceive mind astute

Press on, undo encroaching frost

Courage and warmth now seeming lost.

Another time to thaw the bind

That chains the heart to wit unkind

For to the year there are seasons

And to my life, left but reason.

 

Cringe not in fear of hidden things

Daring sport this harsh season brings,

Watch raging wind blow brash and bold,

My youth unflung, my dream untold.

Like those winter winds of my mind

Huddling close lest bleak time should find

Could we but loneliness endure,

Had seen a sheltered cove secure.

 

While winter winds, though hard they blow

Make empty sounds, with loving flow

Into the sea with hope unbent

To speak of yearning’s discontent.

Let season brake on wisdom known,

And whittle reeds on challenge grown,

Thus live ones time with purpose strong

And to the race of strength belong.

 

THE OWL ( 1964 ) 2013/02/16

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 4:51 pm
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Who is there, steadfast and still,

On that limb, odd whippoorwill?

Silent creature, feared and grim,

Cursed with failing vision dim,

Nighttime vulture of the sky,

Casts about with blinking eye,

While some fated victim eat,

Seek another morsel sweet.

Harsh and distant mutiny,

Bird defies man’s scrutiny.

With wistful, somber hooting,

This clumsy awkward looting

Denizen of deepest night,

Swooping quickly, in short flight,

Calls to mind a question bold.

Does he live to be quite old?

 

And if true, can he be wise,

Or is legend some mere guise?

Why should I grow faint and chill

Fearing he upon that hill?

How can bird know more than I?

Would I learn if I  could fly?

Many a query fills my mind,

Many a day my heart has pined

To fly with him into the world,

As thoughts into a whirlwind hurled.

Then watch, as shadows go to sleep

And listen, as the willows weep.

I wonder if his life is spent

Complete, beneath God’s moonlit tent,

There, sup on mice and running stream.

How does he live without a dream?

 

THE LONDON THAMES ( 1979 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 4:44 pm
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Muddy river, swiftly flowing,

with the tide, its volume growing,

Passing quickly toward the sea,

brown and laden, yet racing free.

Towers tall, interspersed and spare,

chimneys risen above the air,

Spires stretched among bleak-shrouded sky,

ugly and pale, afflict the eye.

 

This waning ghost of what had been

past history, both grand and grim,

Whose tales are sung in legend bold

with aging time, lost truths unfold.

Some patch of blossoms crowd her banks ,

where pilings gray form solid ranks,

One does not hear the rush of oars,

nor plays a child along her shores.

 

This river flows into the sea,

in vast attack by staunch army,

A noble force with wasted prime,

that suffered sad effects of time.

There heroes brave once paced the sod,

and glory old, her bridges trod,

Those golden days, now much forgot,

that hailed the truth of Camelot.

 

SCOTLAND ( 1978 )

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Swiftly changing moody skies, sulking now, and gray,

Rimmed about with verdant edges blazing away,

Clamoring vines, that bloom aloud in noisy crowds,

Crowning all of this are hills of black, piercing clouds,

A patchwork quilt against the backdrop of cold sky

Where field duck, geese and gull, propitiously, do fly.

Winding rivers that shine like a pasteboard display

Abundant with dwellings that seem modeled of clay,

Rigid stanchions of forest commanding the scene

Of woodlands in limbo, sound asleep and serene,

Her bonnie green cramming every top of each mount

With visions of heraldry the mind cannot count,

Fields polka-dotted with sheep and black angus steer,

And there, in the distance, some tall tower appears,

Like a lone sentinel in its halo of white,

To stand, guarding late exit of day into night.

Castles ringed with her magic and filled with her ghosts,

Past miles of rock-studded farms, west on to the coast,

From Dundee to Carstairs, and down to Scot’s Glen,

Making straight for the sea, by the way of Girvan,

A sight full of splendor and eternally green,

Like a shimmering torch, and a gem for her queen.

 

SHADOWS’ MIGHT ( 1951 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 4:38 pm
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The underlings of trees that seem so strangely bare,

Cringe, stifled without breath, height’s freedom cannot share,

For lack of space, live shaded from the day’s bright eye,

Now, briefly, in the wind, do reach to see the sky.

While in the forest’s darkness that much resembles night,

The lonely moss rose blooms , less benefit of light.

If we might pluck that flower, take it in our hand,

Observe those velvet arms, thus try to understand

How thrives this prickless blossom in such cool shadow,

Which lonesome flourished with no thought to taller grow.

In darkness, stifled, still, do other creatures breed

With spectrum overcast, they struggle to succeed,

Survive sad lack of care that elongates their height

And straining, reach the sky to bathe in warm sunlight,

Derelicts of denial exist with will instead,

Matured in other ways by force that’s been inbred.

 

DIRECTION ( 1978 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 4:36 pm
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Now weep my love, for days that are no more,

Now sleep my love, to dream one last encore,

Then wake my love to face the world again,

And smile my love, it has not been in vain.

 

Arise my love, and teach your heart take heed,

Be strong my love and force yourself to need,

It’s over, love, there’s nothing left to keep

It’s over now, truth lost and love asleep.

 

Thus when each new tomorrow dawns today

To slowly slip into just yesterday

The pages of our story gently fold

And as pressed leaves twixt Job and Psalm, wax old.

 

Then, my love, reach forth to touch the morrow

Failing to remember shades of sorrow

Breathing thoughts as bold as all eternity

And idle dreams that swell with vanity.

 

Confess my love that life must be confined

To purpose real, mock goals for cause declined,

Justice meet dimension in manner chaste

Pursuing life in seeming sense, make haste.

 

DEVOTION ( 1978 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 4:22 pm
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There are two lying close together, sleeping side by side,

That warm sensation surging, like an elevated ride,

Pulsing, throbbing, yet they fearing nothing, all thought recede,

Caring, hoping, wanting, blending feeling with subtle need.

Awaken, turn to face each other, desire reaching out,

And touching, filling the void that compassion is about.

 

Put fantasy in motion while forsaking lustful pride,

One man, one woman, secret thoughts and visions to confide,

Gentle cravings, swaying, moving with manner not profaned

Between pleasure and lust, delicate balance thus contained,

Caressing with a passion not akin to tenderness

No time to doubt, or cause to labor their own happiness.

 

Leave, shackles of the past aside, peril lagging behind,

To defend the marvel of love that dwells not in the mind,

Like a foreign continent waiting sweet exploration,

Caution flown, let loving grow, although of short duration,

Call it lust, yet know that there is more to this emotion,

To smile, to touch, to share what may be discreet devotion.

 

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.

 

COMMON MAN ( 1960 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:40 pm
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A man today must be a man

Who’ll do the utmost that he can

In all the deeds  and chores of life

Providing for his child and wife,

Think not a care about himself

Nor thought to gaining richer wealth

Than that of every other man

With selfsame goal or striving plan.

 

A thankless task to be attained

Once done the course of lesser fame

Than artisans with greater ease

Who spin precisely as they please

Yet reach a place of power’s height,

Poor weighted man with straining might

At his bleak door fate seems to laugh

Sad backbone of the fatted calf.

 

COMPENSATION ( 1983 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:31 pm
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That I should wait so many years

Years filled with hope and thick with fears

And then one day to find my peace,

My heart unbound, my soul’s release,

The era gone of discontent

Begin the glow of love well meant.

 

The time of effort largely kept

A secret place in which we’ve wept

O’er deeds long past and muchly sad,

To weigh the tide that makes us glad

Thus to arrange for recompense

And tears no more our eyes dispense.

 

But pleasure bring to those who give

To us the will and fire to live,

God grant them grace in their old age

And joy untold as their due wage

For leaving love at every door

That grief be gone forevermore.

 

Pray bless them well that they may know

From deeds as these all blessings flow

Return to them yet manifold

Rewards one cannot buy with gold,

A fitting measure to repay

Their kindly deeds and gentle way.

 

Of all the joys I’ve ever known

Not one remains to be my own

Except the ones you’ve brought to me

And offered up so willingly,

The tender smiles I can’t forget

The gentle words you utter yet.

 

May God to you be gentler still

And all your dreams may He fulfill

And mold your days with gracious ease

To aid me so that I may please

And share with you in some small way

The joy you’ve brought to me this day.

 

THE FINISH ( 1985 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:28 pm
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Empty is the pot when the tea is done

Empty is the stream aft it’s ceased to run.

Empty is the nest when the chicks have flown

Empty is the pod when the seeds are sown.

Empty are the stalks when the summer’s fled

Empty are the hands when the palms are spread.

Empty is the dream in waking we’ve forgot

As empty as a thought when it tarries not.

Though empty is the heart after love has died,

Far emptier the life when its tears have dried.

 

TOMBS (1989 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:27 pm
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While pyramids do note the place

Where potents took their resting space

( In halls were all their treasures brought

To grace the afterlife they sought.)

My grave should in its stead be laid

Where all the things I’ve loved have stayed.

Those blossoms holding fast the ground

With willows sweeping all around

T’ would be my temple for all times

When bells have tolled the final chimes.

And if my life goes on no more,

Of all the pleasures I have stored

That memory of one sweet day

I felt the wind and watched it play,

There by the church’s chimney spire

Amid the graveyards funeral pyre,

To lift the leaves long sere and dead

To find one tiny budding head.

 

Thus this shall be my epitaph:

“ To some bread is their body staff

But I who dwelt alone so much

Now join God’s earth with feel and touch.”

 

THE PORTULACA (1991 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:26 pm
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Shy portulaca folding its bloom

Creeping and low, not needing much room

Soft spreading in growth both humble and slow,

Blossoms arrayed in no arrogant show

Tender and gentle, such delicate shoots

Will suffer each storm retaining its roots.

 

I MISS YOU ( 1985 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:25 pm
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Those bright blue eyes that laughed aloud

And caught this heart on love’s blind cloud

Those wrinkled cheeks and foolish grin

With dimpled dot in scoundrel chin,

Broad hunch of shoulders wrapped in tweed

And long brisk pace suggesting speed

Accompanied that boyish look

While caution from my senses took.

 

Sweet gentle man with hungry heart

How do you fare since we’re apart?

I knew I should not hold you long

I could not fit where you belong.

I close my eyes or gaze in space

Because I cannot fill your place

I miss you now and shall until

This heart of mine at last, is still.

 

CITY LIFE (1979 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:24 pm
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Smoke curling from a dirty stack joins an already darkened sky

O’er junkyards laced with debris, cluttered with discard that’s piled eye high,

Mixed with the acrid smell of factories still grinding out their wares

As last years lights sag soot covered now from all Our Lady’s fairs.

A pidgeon’s roost has spread into a hovel on the roof with time

Midst makeshift lines where meager laundry’s hung to whiten in the grime.

Her aged structures seem to weep and groan with some unknown despair

Amid the bleak facades of each building’s ruff begging groom and care.

A city’s that place where the clamor of life parades in the streets

And the courtesy of her scoundrels leer at each corner she greets.

Here and there scaffolds rise in man’s weak attempt at human repair

While a furtive pack of stray dogs darts through shadows that loom and stare.

The sky above the city simmers with a glaze akin to glass

As she waits for the heat of a torrid summer’s day to slow pass.

Her neon lights glitter like garnets set into a bloodred moon,

Even her morning’s dew glistens and weeps and disappears too soon.

Imagine the day to day drama that her back alleys must hold

And the dreams of generations that here wearied and soon grew old.

Forgotten and lost dwells mankind’s dignity in the city’s rush

Like battered aspirations or prayers whispered in a chapel’s hush.

As a matter of need most cities are built like the hub of a wheel

The closer you are to its center the more of its impact you feel.

 

THOUGHT ( 1989 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:21 pm
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Truth, I have lived so many years and learned so many things

And lastly found the value of the peace that loving brings.

 

MY NEED ( 1979 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:12 pm
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This is the autumn of my days,

A pressing time to mend my ways,

There are past wounds that I must bind,

There are new goals I need to find,

There are old fears that I must end,

There are new paths that I must wend,

There is adventure that I must dare,

There are some hopes that I must share,

There is courage which I must seek,

There are bold thoughts that I must speak,

There are values that I need learn,

There are laurels which I must earn.

 

LOVERS ( 1978 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 2:48 pm
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Affairs begin and end with both hope and despair entwined

Small reason endowed and divers customs that wax unkind

How plainly sweet it is to become lovers for today,

Some habits that had been sooner left behind fade away,

Deserting trying faults, assuming honest attitudes

Forsaking wasteful words, discarding useless platitudes.

Relief at last knowing someone cares about you as such,

And being the person that you are, thus not begging much.

A certain vulnerability that comes with caring

And flowers into a dream for two by simply sharing,

These may thrive on a plane with honest friendship growing

Baring goals and certain fears, leaving only need showing,

Thus easing day’s complaint and evening’s often grueling woe

Lifting veils of insecurity and lonesome sorrow.

 

And so then keenly knowing safety lies within their reach,

No wish to scourge the other’s will or reckless, dreams impeach,

But rather bolster where some small weakness craves strong defence

Finding that each other understands, giving scant offense,

And willing both to comprehend the whole of relating

That quality of sense, forcing truth to life equating,

Blending two into one with passion’s embrace beginning,

Perhaps timid pair, given time, may grow with love winning.

 

PATTERNS ( 1980 ) 2013/02/13

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:44 pm
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Castles in Spain fly on wings of a dream

Idle thoughts nought more than dulled reckless gleam,

Faint glimmer of hope one desire long inbred,

Time moulds each man’s dream into one fragile thread,

To leave but shadows of what he’d hoped to be

Like echoes of the words he wished he’d said.

Is this all that I am or will ever be

In patient pattern flowing until one drifts dead,

Ne’ermore to know the flight of the dream forlorn,

That dream  shining bright waits wasted and worn.

 

The fabric of life ’bout us vaguely closes

And weaving its web chains in cadence imposes,

While years swiftly flee as passionless dawn,

That heart which in hope  covets distant land,

Takes time to kindly glimpse the days long gone

When chance was his to leave or to command.

These years of mem’ry  like those past cloud worn

Instill not the fear but the value scorn,

The face of reality makes dream fantasy

While far castles in Spain mark man’s sad heresy.

 

INTERLUDE ( 1979 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:32 pm
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In the strangely still and murky hours before sulky dawn

When nightbird calls and wizard sounds with caution fill the air,

He dreamt a shape in silhouette against the rising morn

Some mystic phantom woodland creature stealing from its lair

To stalk its frail and uncontested prey in dull silence

The larger making victim of the small, nature’s pattern

Crash, crackle, sounds merge thus veiled its predatory violence,

The night regained quietude, day began anew its turn.

 

For so it is in life, a sea nymph calls a plaintive air

To stir him from his worthy course and will him to her lair

Where life and dreams blend in a fantasy of love well meant,

And he unthinking reveled there for times too long content

When suddenly the silence breaks with unrestraining din,

The clutter of the brash world revokes their peace, rushing in

Not seeing all the twist and turn that caught them in this net

That neither wish to leave with stillborn hope lest they forget,

But who are they to dare impugn the lust of wishful hearts,

Impose on each a purpose that reflects not their own starts,

Too often those who don’t belong or cannot understand

Mar that joy which sings within the mind and slips from the hand,

And so return to what are looked upon as useful ways,

Leave behind the foolishness of what had been wayward days.

 

ALISON ( 1977 )

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:16 pm
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I loved you, Alison, daughter I never had,

Little bird with timorous wings trying to soar

Above life’s clamor and din, mediocre and sad,

Like a lion at bay, as it whimpers a roar

Far too regal to run yet too timid to fight,

A babe thrust from her nest by adversity’s quirk,

Yet she stood like a queen never taking to flight.

How I envied her strength and the way her mind worked

And I loved her like a child I wished had been mine,

She stole my heart yet never understood the why,

But a wildflower to a cage one can’t confine,

Neither chain hearts or wings, hummingbird homeward fly.

See the pluck of that heart and the length of her limbs,

Flee now from the wind and consuming storm that stirs

To devour the sweet soul that breathed curious whims,

Shattered hopes, scattered dreams, the world could have been hers

And through her tender tears she wove her magic spell,

Her good-bye, whispered soft, bore majestic disdain,

Sweet child of my heart now gone I pray you fare well,

Lose not that bright spirit soon we’ll meet once again.

 

 
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