In the distance I can spy
Colored sails against the sky
Rainbowed hues so bright and clear
Seeming far, yet very near.
Small triangles in the breeze
Guileless gliding on blue seas.
Some that turn from north to west
Others skimming on the crest,
Masts so tall, they groan and sigh,
I can see their pennants fly.
Brave little craft beckons me
To a life that’s bold and free
In the harbor or adrift
Let me share your journey swift,
Cast upon the water’s wave
To become your fearless slave.
My little men are playing hard
their jumbled shrieks of glee
Will prove an ever constant source
of wonderment to me.
It is not meet that we should know
of all the words they speak
For half the joy of their long day
are secrets they need keep.
And in their world of little men
where adults cannot be
All men are brave and strong and good
in faith, they’re not yet three.
Out of the stillness of the hour
It seems to me that
I can hear the crying
Of the quiet times
That still must be… now dying.
Where laughter once
Full filled the halls with glee
There is but only a dream
Reminding me.
Would that I might achieve
That day of youth’s bright joy
Would that I might retain
For everyday this buoyancy of living
Somehow I’ve outgrown that joy.
Will I relive it ever?
Listening close
I hear the answer echoing
Throughout the silent halls,
It seems to whisper . . . “Never”.
A rocky wall, a crumbling fence
A dried-up brook, a withered vine
A fallen bough held in suspense
That rests upon a clementine,
Unkempt yew side a tumbled post
A grim reminder of neglect
While lamp to spider’s web played host
Its use long past one would suspect.
This sentry by a garden gate
With primrose path and weeds profuse
Makes statement that fair shouts “Ingrate”,
To focus thought on life’s abuse.
We’ve seen the waste misfortune brings
And many styles that pruning need
Applied not just to vernal things
All spreading hopes crave care to breed.
When I have watched ten thousand clouds pass
overhead and seen
Them pass again this way no more in
splendor’s show serene,
When I have held the dearest heart close
to my breast once more
And known a love without a fear I
never knew before,
When I have filled my wildest dreams and
spent my sweetest day,
When there is nothing left to learn and
nothing left to say,
When all of time continues on as
if it faced no end
And I have told my last farewell to
lover and to friend,
When all my tears and hopes are gone and
life wills no delay
Then may I close my eyes in sleep and
blow my breath away.
The shadows dark do cloud my mind
And as a serpent slowly wind
Into a river rife with fear
Where floats one vision most unclear,
Too strange that as I wend my way
My feet seem slow and mired in clay.
From dusk till dawn these shadows keep
My restless self foreign to sleep,
Then with the wakeful hours of morn
My eyelids shut in careless scorn
Upon this world which might just be
A lesson in civility.
Did you know that besides Frank Sinatra, Hoboken was home to Stephen Foster AND Edgar Allan Poe? Lillian Russell was married here in the 1800’s, and my family arrived from Germany in 1846. My grandpa George Eugene Sipple played for the Knickerbocker baseball team. Remember this town is only one mile square! Can you imagine? So much history!
Sincerely,
Claire B.
I don’t know what you are thinking
And if it affects my life
Only God knows where your heart is
If it’s filled with peace or strife.
I can pray that you’ll remember
To uplift and aid the weak
Most are the Lord’s helpless children
Lacking voice to beg or speak.
In this life we are mistaken
To believe we’re all alone
No one knows our destination
Is the path of grass or stone?
I can wait another lifetime
Hoping soon to find release
In pursuit of God and wisdom
Seeking His eternal peace.
Am I correct in believing that Brokaw called my era the “ Greatest Generation” ? ( My mother bought me that book.) I spent more than 76 years of my life in “ incredibly “ close proximity to my mom, she was my “hero” ! I miss her everyday and live by the simple rules she valued. In German it was : Kirche, Kinder, Kochin, “loosely” translated into … God, family, duty ! Not a bad goal.
Sincerely,
Claire B.
I’m mesmerized by falling rain
It splatters on my window pane
And sings a tune I need to hear
It sounds like music on my ear,
It means my garden now can thrive
And soon God’s blessings will arrive.
You cannot know the joy I feel
Or how much ache this show will heal,
The beauty that a garden brings
With scented breath on fragile wings,
In truth this vision states somehow
God loves me, thats enough for now!
A wretched mass we lonely be
We draw our lots of destiny
And fearful though our days may seem
We’ll not forsake the growing dream
That time has furrowed on our brow
And hope can only but allow
To breathe and swell within our soul
And make it seem but one more goal
For man to grasp the will to live
And every moment courage give.
The wind blows wild across the plain
Another soul to seek acclaim
Like shipwrecks shoaled on foreign shore
Their voices raised, God’s grace implore.
As trees their arms do upward sway
The whole world kneels , her prayer to say
Where ancient Moorish castles rise
Their towers reaching for the skies.
This prayer of man that heaven sent
Begs only for his heart’s content,
Bold edifice of legendry
Now stirs the soul to poetry
And wills the weak to stronger be
And make fast friends of you and me.
Oh, foolish dreamer, you lonely child,
They gave you a hope, and you ran wild
In fields of joy and gardens of laughter,
Simple girl, you forgot what comes after
The rain of a late summer’s discontent,
However much meaningful or well meant
He will return to the world of his past,
Deserting you first, remembering last
That you held his hand through the troubled days
And you kissed his tears, through your misted gaze,
But in their flight, most men are little boys,
And gentle girls become discarded toys.
Ah, Pierrot, what pale tear doth rest upon thy cheek
And lingers there while thou hast not the tongue to speak
To quell this agony within thy breast that swells
Not either strength to leave nor voice to thy love tell?
Hence thou dost act each night a role that hath no end
To veil thy life without one lover or one friend.
T’would be the love for whom you’ve pined yet been denied
Dost sense not hour , day nor year through which thou hast cried.
Thus as this force continued on in weary grief
Thou garnered not the halting grace it must to leave.
But made thyself a servant silent to her will
And like some mindless fool forever loved her still.
This delicate jewel that reigns across the sea
Still clouded by the mist and slightly faded shade
Rules with repute amid fame of greater glory
While the events of years her impotence betrayed.
Basking in the shadow of one bright diadem
Views stolen from another end of the rainbow
Lending character to this aged waning gem
That here exists with honor and respect in tow.
Noble crescent from whence came seeds of our beginnings
Once hidden by the tiresome toss and chance of time
In retrospect with pride that contemplation brings
See truth and in that single act, dower confine.
The tide has gone, how cool the night
It’s ebb has passed, now dims the light
Drift wood alone remains for me
The single task which must now be
To build again this life to share
With splintered fragments of repair.
Lost memories like shattered dreams
Fill water into running streams
Receding tides, crumbling castles
Consuming waves leave only ashes.
A star has brushed my heart
and left it maime
A wind rushed past my ear
whis’pring you name.
I’d gather up the courage to stand so very tall
And pray that God would be there to catch me if I fall,
And if I can’t remember exactly every word
I’m sure that He will see my unspoken thoughts are heard.
Can it be that our dreams
are but the musings of angels
softly whispered whilst we sleep?
If today should be my last to keep
I’d deed to you, before I sleep
Those treasures which I’ll leave behind
To seek the rest that I will find.
There are these gifts to give away,
One is the peace youth will delay.
While I have many dreams to share
I also have some love to spare,
I’d pledge that love to fill your heart
Next to the wish your fears depart.
I’d bid you learn to live like me,
With courage, truth and dignity.
If this day were my last to spend
I’d will to you before its end,
The glow of joy and calm of mind
That through our destinies must wind,
And pray then as we say goodbye
There will be ventures you will try,
Perhaps a mountain you will dare
Because your future may be there
And if you fail, shed not a tear,
I leave you cause and faith sincere.
I can but beg your grief will see
The wisdom in my legacy.
What is there above stripped limbs that I can spy
Wedged between those spiny arms that reach too high?
One browned and muddy shelter grown obsolete
That time ago, to some bird, was world complete,
With its leafy covert fallen to the ground
Where it lies in lifeless and decaying mound.
Now empty and deserted this wasting nest
That in prime, to brooding chicks gave healthy rest.
Poor lonely home of use no more, bleak and bare,
Lost legacy of one transient flying pair
Struggling in that tangled sea of life’s morass.
Thus observed, swiftly it is, through age we pass,
To leave behind this remnant of what had been
Some message of deep concern to kith and kin.
Consider lessons now sealed within those walls,
In its girth, did gift the heart and cushion falls.
Then build our nests for each youth, both sleek and trim,
Though we guide them well, the rest is left to Him.
Who is there upon my window sill?
What is your need or your will?
Who’s that tapping on my pane ?
Have you come to call again?
Do you wish to enter in ?
Or to share my space herein?
Oh little one as you think
And tremble there on the brink
I cannot do what you wish
Since we share a varied dish.
Will you rest upon my sill
And chirp your song as you will
Can you stay and live with me?
It’s your nature to be free.
Oh small creature once again
Tapping there upon my pane
I can pray that you may stay
I beg please don’t fly away.
Oh little bird of swift flight
Keep love in your patient sight,
Winter winds will too soon come
With hoar’d breath and lack of sun
Keep my heart and mind alive
We may both with care survive.
There’s the tap upon my glass
Tell me what it is you ask
Can it be that we both know
Secrets great that must not show.
I won’t beg you to delay
Will you come another day?
Perhaps show me how to live
Teaching me what I must give
By courage and moral stand
To comprehend God’s vast plan,
Make me glad to be alive
With His help we shall survive.
From a mother to her son, and I write singularly,
because you are all the same, one finger of a hand, it
matters not which one, because all are indispensible
to me. You are all an integral part of me, not even
death can truly separate us. We are eternally one flesh.
I know with great clarity that you wish that our family
problems could be, with mysterious and magical alacrity,
whisked away on some fortuitous wind. But you must now
understand that this is impossible, for many reasons,
honor not the least.
Perhaps with foolish vanity, I say to you that I have
sincerely tried to mend a constantly crumbling relationship
in the best manner that I was capable of, and perhaps my
efforts were misconstrued; and then again, perhaps my
vision and my ability were clouded by my own personal
pain and disappointment. Perhaps, I too, was weak and
selfish. My God, I hope not.
It must be that you profit from my experience in that
you do not err as I did, but rather that you see my errors,
tucking the memory of them away in some far corner of your
mind, using them as a guide in your lives to avoid similar
misfortune. Each of you must make your own mistakes, hoping
only that every one teaches you a valuable lesson. I love
you all as I love my life, you have each given me memories
and joys to last a lonely lifetime. I pray that I have done
the same for you. I apologise deeply for having brought you
to your present pain, and whatever decisions you individually
reach, I will accept as being just and honorable, for this is the
manner in which I have tried to raise you.
Love, Your mother.
These memories that from our youth still cling
To values old that hope and trust will bring
Into this world since truth has lost its place
With no good choice to fill the empty space.
A valued thought by chance may come to mind
To help employ the wisdom we shall find
And question why our world has lost its way
Amid the toxins of the present day.
As men reject their past identity
In this sad world of such dishonesty
And leave us here to ponder why they do,
We lose our faith their words or deeds ring true!
I believe that the wind is the spirit of God
That carries on its gentle breath a hymn that sings
A song of joy, caressing vibrant hill and sod
To bring us light and bless His smallest happenings.
Of all the chains the years have forged I’ve born with charity
One timeless and external torch can light no way for me
And darkens still this foolish path that will not set me free,
Igniting every shallow thought that clouds my destiny.
There is a time that shall impound
The freedom once that I had found
Which must with force my life surround
Until that day my breath’s unbound.
While madness round me all about pursues a course that’s weak
There is no simple answer to the honest end I seek,
Foolish aims that restless be have no mind nor tongue to speak
And bind my heart to olden dreams with courage often meek.
Brief chance has come and too soon passed
To rend my days with currents fast
Faith binds my hopes with vision vast,
Time leads my sight to grace at last.
Oft I have heard a stranger say
That home is but a mile away,
And oft I’ve heard a comic say
That laughter’s but a smile away.
Oft I have heard a suitor say
That love is but a kiss away
And oft I’ve heard the preacher say
That God is just a prayer away.
Oft have I heard the wounded say
That help is but a cry away
And oft I’ve heard a soldier say
Peace is just one battle away.
Oft have I heard an artist say
Achievement’s just a task away
And oft I’ve heard the dying say
Salvation’s but a breath away.
Oft have I heard my own heart say
Tomorrow’s but a day away,
More oft I’ve heard a wiseman say
The truth is but a lie away.
Oh, bright hope and trembling aspiration,
Threatened by reality’s confrontation,
Fertile dreams that skirt the realm of success
With thoughts that magnitude in deed possess,
Coerced by conscience ofttimes seized by doubt,
Bold in fervor and brave façade without.
Schemes that reek with brass determination
And beg aloud for joint cooperation,
Now restricted by society’s concept,
Whilst confined by past attitudes inept,
For this is woman, born to serve not lead
With scant concern that she fulfill her need.
Supple arms and quivering femininity
Promising passion with whispered divinity,
The striking blow of vanity to find
This fragile one conceals an agile mind.
I am an empty seashell that waits beside the sea
To catch each impatient wave that washes over me,
Within the deeper crevice which is my inner part
There swells all the emptiness that drowns a heavy heart.
I am a frigid winter that never sees the sun
Yet dreams to hold one sunbeam before its light is done.
I am a hollow nighttime wind crying out aloud
Embracing every vacant space stretching wide and proud,
Sheltering a burden while seeking that final cave
To echo trust and recapture all the love I gave.
I am deserted memory living in the past
Wherein all wind and waves and snow are forgotten fast.
I am a lonely stranger, timid, pale and lost, how sad,
Who for the sake of liberty committed all I had.
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Claire V. Bogdanos 