Claire V. Bogdanos

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

NO CURTAIN CALL ( 2019 ) 2019/05/18

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 12:26 am
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Some memories of long ago

They are still here, they come and go

Without them, how could we move on

For sure, the meaning would be gone.

It’s odd, the thoughts that take us back

Remaining on the proper track

Remembering those days we knew

When all were safe and faith was too.

Opportunity winged on by

With no time left for second try

We’ll have to make the best of all

Because there is no curtain call !



AND USED TO BE ( 2019 ) 2019/01/26

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 1:42 am
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There are these photos on the wall

Of folks I barely know at all

There’s a few I had never met

And others that I shan’t forget.

Familiar faces from the past

All precious images that last

As life once was, grateful to see

When all were young and used to be !


SWEET MEMORIES ( 2017 ) 2017/06/07

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 7:50 am
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Now I have lived quite a long time

In varied places and other clime

And learned that one must try to fit

Into each spot that’s part of it.

When but a child, the horse and cart

Is how our travel had its start

Next came the Ford all black and square

While in the rear its trunk was there.

Those skinny tires were truly sad

I cannot count the flats we had

Oh for those days that are long gone

Sweet memories my heart dwells on !


FIREFLIES ( 2015 ) 2015/06/26

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 2:52 am
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I can see fireflies they’re all aglow

It’s curtain time for their magic show

Soon the stars up high begin to light

They flicker and dance and shimmer bright.

When I was small and not yet grown tall

I’d play outside by the garden wall

To catch them buzz and flitter about

Quite a happy sight without a doubt.

As I have aged my memory brings

Pictures that pull upon old heartstrings

It’s too late now to remember when

No one can ever go back again !


MERMAIDS ( 2015 ) 2015/04/14

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:59 am
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Have you ever seen a mermaid when you’ve been out to sea

I’m sure that I have not nor anyone that’s known to me

Seems mermaids were a help to men at least a thousand years

There is a place on the Rhine I’ve been told that one appears,

Unlike the Disney creatures who know all the rights from wrongs,

The sailors call them Lorelei they sing enchanted songs.

Like Homer’s Sirens tempted those from Troy who homeward bound

Did flounder on the rocks about on hearing their sweet sound,

I’m sad that I might have to spend another thousand years

To hear a mermaid chant her song into my waiting ears !


AT MY FRONT DOOR ( 2014 ) 2014/12/20

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 4:17 am
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My memories are haunted by

Some faces seen with my mind’s eye

These persons from the distant past

True images that ever last

They’re so clear now I want to touch

I’m sad because I’ve missed them much !

How can it be aft all these years

That my heart’s full of unshed tears

What I would give for just once more

Their oldtime step at my front door !


LACE CURTAINS ( 2014 ) 2014/07/21

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 6:56 am
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I love to see the curtain’s edge

Lift gently from my window ledge

The breeze outside comes pushing in

As lacy fluff lifts in the wind !

The fabric floats into my space

Creating gauzy veils of lace

While visions seem to spin around

Like Venus in her dressing gown !

This has no place now I’ve been told

These styles I chose are just too old

And no one cares or wants to see

Lace panels here except for me !


ONE WAY TICKET ( 2014 ) 2014/07/03

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 8:24 pm
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The sunshine sneaks into my room

Replacing night time’s eerie gloom

The photos hung upon the wall

Do happy days and times recall.

Familiar faces one by one

Remind me of past summer’s fun

Those thoughts so full of magic sights

And warm and sunny days and nights !

I wish somehow we could return

To memories for which we yearn

But it’s too late for turning back

That train left on another track !


DATELINE: HOBOKEN, NJ, USA “HAPPY DAYS”. ( 2013 ) 2013/07/22

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:56 pm
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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 ?  





WISTFUL THOUGHTS ( 2013 ) 2013/07/08

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 11:58 pm
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I miss my mom, I miss my dad

And all the friends that I once had

I miss the way life used to be

When joy and hope and peace were free.

These days are gone just blown away

With lost remains of yesterday

Oh how I pray and often yearn

For oldtime pleasures glad return.


I realise now this won’t be

Seems most of it was not that free

I’ve tried quite hard to be aware

And understand with love and care

Here in this world the future brings

Broad visions of lifes happenings.





Filed under: HISTORY — bogdanosclaire @ 2:19 pm
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Do you know the story of Mary Hays McCauley nee Ludwig?  Born 1754, Trenton, NJ, more commonly known as “Molly Pitcher” the heroine of the Battle of Monmouth Courthouse June 28, 1778.  Last time I was there, more than 60 years ago, she was memorialized with a monument, a plaque and the famous cannon she manned when her husband fell !  In the “good old days”, children revered the brave deeds of those who”purchased” our freedom and rights as the youth of today idolize sports figures.  That June day was unusually hot, 100°F, it could be called the “World Series of Battles” as it included all the major players, all the stars of both TEAMS !  Washington, von Steuben, Marquis de Lafayette and Gen. Charles Lee ( who really struck OUT ) for the home team.  With Clinton and Cornwallis battling for the visitors !!  Americans, 12,000 men, British 11,000.  The cannon required water to cool down the barrel after each shot and a ramrod swab out !  Water girls were kept busy carrying water throughout each battle , most were wives.  Almost half of the casualties were due to heat stroke.  In 1822, Molly ( nickname for Mary ) was awarded a lifetime pension for her valor by the Pennsylvania assembly.  The victory at  Monmouth coming after the crossing at Trenton, ended the larger effort to win in the north and resulted in British retreat to the south, after their escape from Sandy Hook, New Jersey.  Molly Pitcher’s Well can still be visited !  How’s that for another homerun for our side ?  P.S. General Lee was court martialed as a coward, his “contract” was not renewed, but you guessed that !



Filed under: MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 12:16 pm
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Remember the peddlers? Well, I’m still in the 30’s and recalling that bygone era with much affection. Especially the iceman who came once a week the entire year long. We never questioned where the ice came from, much like today’s children who do not query the existence of Wi-Fi. How much we take for granted since Ben Franklin’s experiment with a simple kite in an open field. I think I was about three and we lived on Cambridge Avenue in Jersey City, close to the park on the first floor of a frame building with a wooden porch in front of three large railroad rooms with a shared toilet in the hall! It was just up the steep hill from Hoboken off Congress Street with cheaper rent. It was a very hot summer. If you wonder what “railroad” means think of trains, opening one into another minus wasted hallway space (of course no privacy). Two huge double-hung windows porchside and two in the kitchen, yardside, with wide walls in between, there were large pocketdoors on the front room to save coal in the winter. No bath! Enough said, a huge laundry tub and a folding screen next to the obligatory black iron coal stove with a giant water cauldron over the glowing embers, familiar to anyone? But back to the ice, my dad built a shelf for an oscillating fan and placed an enamel pan with a 10 cent piece of ice on top of the icebox, opened all the windows, and “voila”, old fashioned air conditioning for a dime. No radio, no TV, no online, just the bible, loads of conversation, love, family, neighbors, poverty and ingenuity! Great huh?



Claire B.



Filed under: MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 12:05 pm
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May I share with you? But what shall it be? Big decision, the 30’s, 40’s, 50’s, I’m not sure where to begin as each era is shouting my name! I remember my daddy making “bathtub gin” and the horse and cart peddlers who sold ice by the piece. And stirring a pot as big as myself set on a black iron coal stove with a huge wooden paddle, boiling my baby sister’s diapers, on a homemade stool built just for me. Of course every yard had a huge wooden clothespole that reached for the sky with giant iron hooks where the clotheslines were tied. But the hooks didn’t start close to the ground for security’s sake, you needed a ladder at least ten feet tall. Yes, there were laundry thieves who could shinney hand over fist up that pole to steal sheets off the line. Those wash lines would occasionally fray and it took a juggler to replace them. My daddy taught me how, I was his only “son”, haha, for nine years which is why I am adept at “hammer and nails”. You listened in bed for the squeal of the pulley in case your neighbors were the victims! All pulleys made a noise, no way to silence them, no silicone to spray them. Most stores and homes had little jingle bells suspended on their entrance doors that welcomed all who came. Old habits die hard, I kept those bells on my doors until I moved to Florida to retire. I have a feeling that perhaps a return to the bell system might inhibit some burglars! Do you think it’s worth a try? Keep tuned, there’s more to follow!



Claire B.


GETTING OLD ( 2013 ) 2013/06/11

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 11:31 pm
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As I scurry about my daily plan

Rapidly rushing as fast as I can

A miraculous thing for one so old

It’s a job to warm my bones in the cold.

And if you don’t think that’s a chore itself

With a grunt and a groan, reach for a shelf

When your body’s progressed to this late stage

Folks give you a seat because of your age.


I laugh when I think that’s where I am at

I recall the days when men tipped their hat

Now they raise their hand ’til you cross the way

And wish you a greeting, ” Have a safe day ! ”

Whoever thought that I’d wind up like this

Just an old lady surviving with bliss?


CONTINUITY ( 1970 ) 2013/05/26

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 2:34 pm
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Oh, still and peaceful starlit night,

With not a whispered breeze in sight,

Those rustic arms that reach too bare,

Oblique, into the sky now stare,

And seeming wait, for some small gift

Falling from space and earthward drift.


Now stark and graceless awkward tree

Like autumn wind reminding me

Years fall one upon another,

Swiftly reason to discover,

These arms that long to grasp and lift

Embrace the wind cast time adrift.


Thus ageless trees with patience stand

Their vast retinue in command,

Through darkest night or brightest morn,

This faceless wonder earth adorn.


IDENTITY ( 1998 ) 2013/05/06

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 8:34 pm
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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.


CYCLE ( 1965 ) 2013/05/05

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 1:56 pm
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Yesterday, a leaf fell from my favorite tree,

In silence, all alone, I watched it slip and slide,

Turning somersaults, drifting, so melodically,

Graceful, with nought other passage than downward glide.

For one fleet second, thoughts of revolution grew

And cast themselves across the windows of my mind,

Where fragments of one’s journey weigh for times,untrue,

Inciting spasms of questing doubt, life doth blind.


We are, each soul of us, mediocre in our way,

Endowed with talents born long ago, yesterday.

Skills that we erringly believe to be unique

Consume other needs, while that special praise we seek.

Observed through private mirrors which the mind collects.

And colored by the ego that our pride reflects,

Images, much gilded by vision clouded, seen,

And silvered by the hope that we are as we dream.

Mankind, foolish, now wanting, thinking what will be,

Wastes his days midst effort veiled by futility.

That cycle, which in youth, had its first beginning,

Will end in age, with neither losing or winning.



Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 12:58 am
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Look up, look up, into the misting sky

And wistful, dreaming of the years gone by

For truth, and seeming as they never were

Provoking thoughts that heart and mind concur.

In life not even flowers linger long

And to the wind both stem and leaf belong

While bird and nest, too soon part company,

And thus with many leave only memory.

Unholy din to clamor in this sphere

Mark man and beast with recollection clear,

Like bookmarks in a span of life concern

Within orb, lasting memory discern.

Dusting shelves laden with rejected dreams,

A thankless task wasted as it now seems

That memory which has been tucked away

Till such a time perhaps as is this day.

Like one’s closed book of golden memory

Which only grasps the edge of destiny,

So thumb again the pages stained and worn,

Oft empty sheets both tired and torn.

A little knowledge with self-reflected view

Consuming hopes, for time that rings untrue,

Reason spurn Herculean endeavor

In assuming nothing lasts forever.

Leave wanting for the final recompense

And wishful hoping as the last defense,

At best that memory, if so inclined

Will flicker once or twice, across the mind.


WEAK VICTORY ( 1974 ) 2013/05/01

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 1:49 pm
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Why did you take my dreams and brush them all away,

Like scattered ashes of some forgotten yesterday,

Blown with the biting dust of winds that swiftly glide,

Just drifters on life’s road, unwanted, cast aside?

I’ll mend the twisted fragments that have not been lost,

Time will veil some pieces and never count the cost,

A feckless sort of action, yet task worth knowing,

By simply standing tall, find endurance growing.

Wisdom laced with caution that loneliness will marry,

Gull’s nest on seaweed, though set adrift, may tarry,

A titmouse, in the thornbush, emerges, wings intact,

While dreams that died of neglect, often seem abstract.


FREE ( 1991 ) 2013/04/23

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 10:51 am
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I look upon a leafy bed

And wonder why the leaves are dead,

I look upon a stormy sky

And wonder why the birds won’t fly,

I see a tired human face

And wonder if he takes up space,

I question whether time grows old

And why the length of love must mold,

Why flowers turn to face the sun

Then disappear when growing’s done.

The simple ways still seem the best

They supercede the foolish rest,

Perhaps with years we’ve come to know

That fortune follows as we sow.


Though oft I’d sought another place

And sometimes thought I’d lost the race,

Faint melody soon pricked my ears

And cast aside my hidden fears.

Now lately, as my life turns round

And echoes with its closing sound,

One grateful thought does fill my mind,

With age, my passion waxes kind.

I’ve spent this life as best I knew

And lived my hopes as dreamers do,

I’ve known the world the wishful see

And bless my fate that now I’m free.


MEMORY IS ( 1981 ) 2013/04/18

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 8:06 pm
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Sifting through the ashes of a

bitter burning ember

Of forgotten days that time is

dying to remember

Where winter thoughts demand their

silence softly to be heard

Like some feint storm that rages on

appearing now absurd,

To leave one faithful moment here

that truth can realize

There bearing in its icy grip

lost dreams of paradise,

An everlasting steadfast ghost

of hope that went astray

To carry on its battered wings

past thoughts of yesterday.


LIFE’S CHALLENGE ( 2005 ) 2013/04/17


When a flower drops its petals

and its seeds are blown away

And its dry stalks tremble, break

to drop and lie amidst decay,

When a tall tree bends its wide limbs

and its leaves are swept away

Seeking safe and sheltered haven

hence await another day,

When a dream still waits unbidden

as the years have caused delay

And the hopes that fill a young mind

through the years have gone astray

When a heart that’s old and mellow

beats its last and sad farewell

Searching for the final hospice

where the soul at peace may dwell,

When the aims of every lifetime

falter, tarry and dispel

Knowing soon the battle’s over

and its goals have too short fell,

There among these winter feelings

where the hurt will rise and swell,

Face that fleeting day of anger,

sally forth and chance rebel.


CHILDHOOD ( 1976 ) 2013/04/16


Poor old teddy bear, waiting tired and time-worn

Reminding me of many nights spent too forlorn,

We have seen better days when your soft coat was new

And all the dreams we dared to dream seemed overdue.

I put away my childhood toys as I grew old

Because I’d sought the happiness that futures hold.

While childish hopes are based upon small simple things

They fade into the lonely past that growing brings.

Sometimes I wish, with all my heart, I could recall

That yesteryear, so long ago, when I was small.

There’s a precious amount of brief security

In loving a teddy bear who loves only me.


SEARCHING ( 1952 )

Lemon balm and lavender, amaryllis green

All the scents a garden holds, vibrant though unseen

Tansy tall and spearmint bright spend their perfumes gay

While violets and lilies white do their incense spray

Midst this tangled rooting mass lies a seed unborn

That may blossom forth one day into times forlorn.


Tiny mums, petunias bold nestle side by side

Laughing bells with nodding heads do their mirth confide,

Watch the painted daisy bow with a grace serene,

Spreads the creeping myrtle discreetly in-between,

How this sight does profit me as I chance intrude

Like some stranger in a trance, arrogant and rude.


In a field of thornbush one lonely primrose grew

Pledging soon that I’d forget that long wait I knew,

I trace again those times that quickly flew too fast

While roses by a fence remind me of the past,

Alas my life slips by too soon its season ends

And I am left behind to grieve the loss of friends.


A flower ends its life in quiet simple ways

Enriched by nature’s cool and passionless displays,

The years may come and go as petals fade and die

But in the life of man this fading means goodbye,

Reaching the final circumstance wherein resides

The blending of that time when none but truth presides.


Sunlight in a garden though seeming ever bright

Fades into a sunset where flowers sleep at night

Fulfillment of happenings that I dare not know,

Like shadows of sentiment those I scarce can show

Reminds me that a man though born of God’s intent

Fades into the darkness before his life is spent.


I’ve walked among the shadows, whistled in the rain

Faced the bloody mountain and shivered with the pain

I’ve questioned valid reason and read books untold

Searching for an answer about what life might hold,

Yet always in my mind that field of flowers glows

Can I trust one promise beyond what nature grows?


WHEN I WAS A CHILD ( 1998 ) 2013/04/14

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 11:56 pm
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I choose to remember when I was a child

That the streams fell o’er rocks running free and wild

And trickled neath the garden wall

Through crevices that time installed.


The spattering rain bore a scent of pleasure

That’s stored in my mind like a hidden treasure,

These simple joys which I once knew

With passing years much fonder grew.


Some mornings I’d lie on the side of the hill

While the wind whistled tunes that sent me a chill,

With quick’ning pace fleet life had lent

I wondered where that springtime went.


Small prickly green spikes rushed to cover the ground

Bold to herald new seasons the year had found,

Those terms I’d based my life upon

Too soon before my youth had gone.


Each brook seemed to flow as though thought were inane

While crooning a song with a wistful refrain,

I tread beach sand so clean and white

And sadly kissed each day goodnight.


I marveled at clouds that decided to play

In the midst of a hot sultry August day,

First they were blue then rose then pink,

Plum in time for that sun to sink.


The fields wore a garland of flowers in bloom

With cascades of blossoms to sweeten the gloom,

I touched the frost that capped the sea

As the summer’s length swept past me.


I awoke with mixed chatter of migrant birds

To witness God’s errand that needed no words,

I laughed with glee when autumn came

Cause I’d heard of October’s fame.


The perfume of burning leaves since done away

Was the smouldering ash of another day,

Now I’ve grown old I still recall

Those umber leaves that echoed fall.


On overhead boughs naked and shivering

Lay remnants of nests in the wind quivering,

While logs and twigs were known to sleep

All winter long in snow knee-deep.


Soon white flakes that grandeur knew obscured the sky

While I with quick breath did watch the last bird fly,

The years are gone but not the thrill

Forget that time, I cannot still.


There was heart to smell and feel and taste and see

Perhaps question what life was offering me,

Why must truth hide behind a mask

To yield unwon its precious task?


FRIENDS ( 1983 ) 2013/04/13

Above the roof and chimney rise

I tend my garden in the skies,

I sleep with stars and wake with sun

Until my way in life is done.

I weep with mist and cry with rain

And live with hope that mellows pain.

I pay my way and now have learned

To value all the friends I’ve earned.

Build me no castle, sing no song

Carry no ill though hurt is strong.

When I’m old and youth’s spark is gone

Walk close beside me here and yon.

Leave me no paths that I must choose

Will me no fortune I may lose.

Unkempt and fledgling is my cure

That wanders oft with faith secure.

I’ve shaped my goals that they may fit

Into a mold with pride on it.


I’m bound to earth by God’s own will

With courage breathing hushed and still.

When to the trembling brink I’m tossed

And wisdom flees, appearing lost

I thank my God on bended knee

That love thus far has sheltered me.



Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 6:19 pm
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Sometimes when I am at my ease

A simple odor treads the breeze

And from the past some mem’ry brought

Across my mind in homely thought

That waits upon those childhood days

Where knowledge grows and friendship strays.

I’m not so sure that as I’ve grown

My youthful fears have all but flown,

However names I can’t recall

Will ever plague my portrait wall

And recollections I connote

May brim my eye or catch my throat.


And if I choose to chance forget

Some dream that’s had no ending yet,

One face that lingers on may cling

To fragile moments spread with spring,

Now bearing neither ache nor rage

Becomes the privilege of age.


INSIDE THE GARDEN GATE ( 1986 ) 2013/04/12

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 2:13 am
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There’s a special place that I now recall

Both secret and safe in a garden wall,

Far my favorite space when I was small

Was that wooden gate in the garden wall.

And there beneath that garden way

One million tears were washed away

And drained themselves into the ground

To gain the solace I have found.

When I’ve spied a spot with a hidden door

That may lead to the rest I’m reaching for,

The sight of a hedge by a garden gate

Is the knowledge that mellows oft too late.


One entrance in a crumbling wall

Was childhood’s fancy to recall

While shadows cast upon the ground

Did guard the peace that patience found.

The permanence I ‘d felt inside that gate

Where no words alone could ever relate

In the simple fare of my life would be

Like an endless rope of eternity.

I’ve often thought as I recalled

The lonely times when I was small,

I’d lift my wings and follow play

And swing my early cares away.


Ten thousand timeless heads bobbed in the breeze

And shook in the wind and laughed in the trees,

Amidst delphiniums all blue and pink

I’d wait for that sun to just rise or sink

To seek what hides past that garden wall

Where hollyhocks grew so bright and tall,

There beyond the pulse of nature’s lush

Life slumbered deep in a twilight’s hush.

There’s many a gate in many a wall

That has been childhood’s option to recall

When time’s swift shadow played hide and seek

My simple fears had some courage to speak.


Full many a turn has come about

Since those youthful years pursued by doubt

Where the wishing days of life would be

Bound to each one’s goal with piety.

Now much time has flown and it’s far too late

To play in the yard and swing on the gate,

For the wall is gone and there in its place

Structures of brick with no smiles on their face.

Portals of magic beckon still

With aspirations dreams fulfill,

The useful aim of one’s end should be

Some gate that waits for posterity.


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