It may not seem to be quite right
But there are times I wake at night
So sure that God is by my side
I lose all fear and will abide
Within this world of safety first
Where ancient words still quench my thirst !
I love the songs they used to sing
The Psalms I keep remembering
The hopes and joys once promised us
As voices raised sang glorious
Accompanied by cherubim
Applauding God and thanking Him !
How much longer Lord, must I wait
Upon my knees aside the gate
To learn if there’s a chance that I
Have found some favor in God’s eye ?
Perchance to dream and closer be
To dwell in that eternity
Along with those who’ve gone before
Now waiting there outside the door ?
Oh what a joy would be allowed
If I could join that chosen crowd !
Evening arrives I close my eyes
And drift off into paradise
Morning awakes as daytime breaks
I carry on in spite of aches.
While noble deeds are not my style
I want my life to bring a smile
A simple nod, a happy word
Some small aside, not too absurd !
I need to feel the warmth inside
Assured that truth does here reside,
As I welcome my nightly rest
I thank my God, He knows the best.
Life has taught me so many things
To walk with God and sup with kings
To speak with angels and the saints
Enjoy the pictures nature paints,
To love myself and show respect
To souls who suffer from neglect,
To treasure peace and do my part
To heal lifes pain and ease the heart.
This precious gift I wish to share
Bears this label, “handle with care”
I pray I will not fail this cause
God help me please to tame my flaws !
The crystal beads that hug the trees
All together bright and shining
A stunning show of winter freeze
Icy wind and rain combining.
The diamond glaze that rings this space
And ever keeps us expecting
Soon disappears without a trace
As first sun begins reflecting !
THIS A.M., I wakened early to visions of streets trod by nodding smiling people, assorted ages, sizes and in various shades of color, now that’s Hoboken ! Frankly even if you are a stranger, almost all seem to nod or greet in some mild fashion both with the familiar and occasional “homeless” . Here we are more than three and a half centuries after our initial encounter with resident Native American Indians. Can you imagine such camaraderie ? We have gone from Ho-Ho-Hoboken to a town where the cost of living space has tumbled to a low of $ 500. per finished square footage due to struggling economic times ! For those of us who have survived the Great Depression the dichotomy is astounding, not to mention, overwhelming ! Yet the homeless are with us still. I have become convinced that they may be the last extension of our society that remains impervious to the color GREEN ! HaHa ! But I digress, this is a place of many languages and dialects since it’s inception but grows even more divers daily and all in one friendly mile, which we happily share with the Cake Boss !! On that sweet note I wish to remind you that Hoboken WAS the home of Hostess Cake and Tootsie Roll when I was a little girl ! Sincerely, Claire B.
The chapel bells rang loud and clear
The sounds sang out so full of cheer
These simple notes did spur my soul
To try again to reach my goal.
The joys of life seemed far away
I begged of God I should not stray
My heart is true, I rule my mind
Yet sometimes even truth is blind !
I’ve seen the little children play
Around the park along the way
I’ve heard their jumbled shrieks of glee
While hiding there behind a tree !
They laugh and skip and jump and run
It’s heart warming to see such fun.
Sometimes I feel the strongest yearn
To be a child who can return
I’d put my grownup cares away
Just to be young for one last day !
There is no one born without worth
We are His children from our birth
This world so great and marvelous
Such beauty God has gifted us.
He counts the hairs upon our heads
While angels guard us in our beds
There’s so much magic happening
With His true wisdom beckoning.
A consequence this wealth recalls
When in the forest one leaf falls
The stars above can sense the sound
And heaven hears it hit the ground !
Where do all of our memories go
Recalling things we knew long ago
To remember when I was so small
And my world about seemed ever tall.
These remembrances still fill my mind
Days sometimes glad and sometimes unkind
Some days when I felt lost or confused
Others as we laughed and were amused.
Plain and simple joys that used to be
Committed now to each memory
That won’t be lost and keeps flowering
With its virtues overpowering.
A song of joy he brings to you
The notes he sings from out the blue
Will hang in air so gently sweet
This serenade of love complete,
Phrases that emerge unbroken
With esteem its tender token.
Listen closely and you will hear
A sprightly tune too full of cheer
That lends to life its special edge
Melodic bird on windows ledge.
I woke this morning full of joy and love, so much that I was impelled to share and sharing is what I shall now do ! The words in my head were “My mind to me a kingdom is such perfect joy therein I find, as far exceeds all earthly bliss that God or nature hath assigned”, the poet, Sir Edward Dyer, died 1607. I must admit that I cannot recall when or where I encountered those words, as you must know by now, my long life has been blue-collar, middle American soon approaching its close. Mind and heart, both precious gifts from our creator who gifted us with free will to utilize both, either or none ! Such freedom ! Such joy ! Such love ! One month from now will be the 25th year of my confinement to a wheelchair due to a long ago accident however I continue to live alone and unassisted quite happily among my books and dreams. Walking is exceedingly difficult and a bit painful at best not to mention the snails pace, sometimes worse than others depending upon divers weather factors. I am ready to turn another page in life’s book and appreciate your tolerance and input. I can only hope that you find my thoughts soothing and may be able to help me uncover information about the “Legend” as in Francis Bacon’s “I had rather believe all the fables in the Legend and the Talmud and the Alcoran than that this universal frame is without a mind”. Sincerely, Claire B.
I’ve no dreams of great eloquence or grace
My heart just sings to view your laughing face
Such joy it carries to my simple heart
Enough to give my day a blessed start.
I’m sure this love that spreads is whole and real
And feeds the courage of the hope I feel
That you’ll turn out to be the finest lad
With kindly thoughts and deeds as did your dad.
You’ll find the joy of life can be
The doorway to great ecstasy
In which reigns love without delay
And peace that is sweet freedoms way.
The huge forgiving loving Heart
That welcomes your new second start,
A gift now bought with no disdain
Can open doors to faith again.
It’s one to cherish with your strength
So it will last your lifetimes length.
The springtime gales that fill the sails of vessels out at sea
And bring the rain that nourishes the farmlands that is free,
Summer winds that fill the air with odors of faint perfume
The breath of ocean breezes blowing cross a sunlit room,
How wild the call of autumn rolls complete with heavy scents
Of chimneys belching forth the smoke from warm hearthfires intense
The winter storm that carries Mother Natures ice cold sleet
Staccato sounds ring all around like heavy crunching feet,
These are the gifts that God has wrought to bring us happiness
And to our lives has added all the blessings we possess.
We thank you God and go our way believing that we’ll earn
Our daily bread, our prayers are said awaiting our new turn.
The older we get, the more precious the memories, do you agree ? Those terrible years of the Great depression followed by the worldwide destruction of war will forever bring tears to my eyes and a longing in my heart that knows no consolation ! The cost was too high, the loss too great. It engendered a new wave in poetry and literature, Plath, Pound, Masefield, Yeats, Steinbeck, Houseman. I’ve chosen to quote John Masefield. You’ve read about the English teacher who opened my mind and eyes, Lorena Fry, she worked in this country most of her adult life, was born and educated in England and returned home each summer and upon her retirement moved there permanently. Her family home abutted that of Masefield and according to her they were good friends ( I often thought she loved him, my girlish musings ! Woodstock ? ). I am sorry that she never knew how she broadened my life ! This is from “Tewkesbury Road” : “O, to feel the beat of the rain, and the homely smell of the earth, Is a tune for the blood to jig to, a joy past power of words; And the blessed green comely meadows are all a ripple with mirth At the noise of the lambs at play and the dear wild cry of the birds”.
John Masefield Please read this poetic genius and his words and dream !
Sincerely, Claire B.
It surprises me to a great extent
When I have queried where my lifetime went
And cannot seem to remember the space
That last I was or the name of the place.
As I grow older I will not recall
So much of the sadness that did befall
In a journey long full of tears and joys
It’s the happiness that my mind employs
And the peaceful times we were not alone
Those we shared with God in the great unknown
Knowing the ending’s the same for us all
As we clap our hands at the curtains fall !
The little pleasures I enjoy
Are simple measures I employ
To meet new friends along the way
And keep me busy day by day
Minding that we stay safe from harm
With happy days all soft and warm.
Are we sharing again ? One hot summer day, August 14, 1935, my mother and I were
walking hand in hand on Zabriskie Street in Jersey City. Windows were open everywhere
curtains moving in the slight breeze, some parted, some knotted on the rods. You could
hear the Philco radios blaring static and sound within, suddenly the windows filled with
people yelling, shouting hoorays! In the streets they laughed and danced and sang “Happy
days are here again!” I turned to my mother, she squeezed my hand tightly and said “Mr.
Roosevelt passed the Social Security Act “. “Thank God !” I couldn’t forget that day, it
was like the biggest party I ever saw, no balloons, no ice cream, but a lot of whooping it
up and delirious people. It’s a memory that still lives happily with me but what I most
remember is that tired old house dress my mom was wearing and how joyous she was.
Some memories are worth keeping, don’t you think ?
Such a cheerful face and a ready smile
She made my young life so much more worth while
And was always there when I craved advice
With a hug and a kiss not once but twice.
Rose arrived in July of ninety-five
Born just two pounds no one thought she’d survive
She surprised them all and was fine by spring
But never grew tall, just a tiny thing.
She raised five brothers and a niece or two
Looked after her dad and her mother too
She’d knit and crochet and even tat lace
That smile we all loved remained on her face.
Through her very long life she kept her cheer
Dear old Aunt Rose how I wish you were here!
If love had wings, I then would fly
Into your arms to say goodbye
I’ve no more time to gift to thee
This precious breath that’s left in me.
I close the door and bow my head
Too soon the hour I will be dead
Enough here now to say farewell
With some regrets I need to tell.
Can this life be my last resort
Or shall I gain another port
That waits for me to finish here
Ere I pursue this virtue clear ?
There’s rings and blocks and crayon wax
And books and toys and balls and jacks
These all are part of children’s wares
Like cribs and quilts and rocking chairs.
How sweet it is to watch the young
Begin their lives with hope unsung
Their childish glee and joyful songs
Fill youthful days where love belongs.
I miss these years as I grow old
And wish I knew those stories told
When I was just about their size
With curly hair and blue green eyes.
I’d be so glad though it’s too late
Next stop for me, lifes golden gate.
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Claire V. Bogdanos 