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Rodeo Clown
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
He ran a gnarled hand
Through silver-streaked hair.
Arthritis caused pain,
Anguish and despair.
This year, he’d quietly
Turned age sixty-two.
His days as a clown
Were long since through.
Memories flooded back,
Playing tag with his mind,
Back through the years
To a much younger time.
Back then, he was the best…
The most agile around.
Someone better with bulls
Just couldn’t be found.
Rubbing his neck idly,
He gave a soft sigh.
Back then, he could rodeo,
Drink and tell lies.
He could jump over a bull’s rump,
Stop him dead in his tracks,
Then turn him aside
With a quick-handed whack.
He’d sure made it look easy.
There was never a school
To teach rodeo clowns
How to handle mean bulls.
Many a hard-riding cowboy
Was thrown high to fall flat.
They owed their health to the clown,
Plus a tip of the hat.
Many of those cowboys,
Rising up from the ground,
Will ride once again,
All thanks to the clown.
He makes it look so easy
While with danger he’ll flirt,
Keeping bull riders
From both injury and hurt.
The next time the rodeo
Comes into your town,
Watch over the action
Of the rodeo clown.
Maybe you’ll see
Another one there,
Running a pain-filled hand
Through his silvery hair.
There’s a twinkle in his eye —
His interest honed keen.
He’s watching the clowns
And the bull riding scene.
He’ll be wearing
An invisible crown
Because once he was king
Of the rodeo clowns.
THE COWBOY’S LAMENT
This comes comes from Autumn Leaves:
His horse had a back like a cast iron grate,
along with a slew-footed, bone-jarring gait.
This greatly agitated the beans he had ate.
As he continued passing gas,
He knew he had to act fast
Before Mother Nature held sway.
Just up ahead was a cluster of trees
Where he could dismount and bend at the knees,
Letting Ole Mother Nature have her way.
Quickly leaping to the ground,
He glanced all around
And dropped his overalls down over his toes.
With instant, easing relief,
Which put an end to his grief,
Slim shouted, “Thar she blows!”
While shouting, he waved his arm,
Causing his horse to alarm.
It took off with a jack rabbit start.
With a stricken look of aghast
At his horse leaving fast,
All he could do was pass gas.
Now early this morning,
He’d left just at dawning
To begin this catastrophic caper.
Slim was overwrought
With a sickening thought…
He had forgotten to bring along paper!
Grabbing a handful of grass,
He made a quick pass
And began to pull his overalls up.
His pants got caught on his spurs,
And he started to fall,
Sprawled out like a three-legged pup.
Slim had been put to the test.
As the sun sunk in the West,
He turned his horse out to pasture to rest.
“Cookie,” said Slim with a wink,
“These troublesome events have a link
Which caused me to ponder and think.”
Slim hooked his thumbs in his overall jeans,
Grinned at the cook with a mischievous look,
And said, “I want to compliment you on your wonderful beans!”
Jerusalem
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
She sits on a battle-scarred hill,
Standing quietly like a lone sentinel,
Waiting through clear, starlit nights
For history to turn yet another page.
Resting against an ancient olive tree,
From Gethsemane, I gaze across the valley.
She looks like a dull jewel
In desperate need of a good polishing.
War, tears, bloodshed and misery
Have been seen often by her.
She wears them like every day apparel.
Peace is not found within her walls.
Yet it’s written that a child was born
In a village known as Bethlehem
That’s just south of where I rest,
Just as the prophecy foretold.
Born in the bloodline of David,
Root and stem of Jesse,
Born to die, yet live again
And live forevermore. Amen!
His house was over there
Across the little valley.
All that’s left of it now
Is the Wailing Wall.
The mind boggles at the battles fought,
At the endless bloodshed,
The lives and dramas played out
And history that touches lives untold.
Here on this dry,
Barren landscape…
Where water and not gold
Molds the lives of the people.
The bride to be
Patiently awaits her groom
To dazzle the whole world
On her wedding day.
Timeless
This poem is in Autumn Leaves:
Peace be with you,
My thoughts unwind,
But…I knew you elsewhere,
From a distant time.
Though it seems but yesterday,
Still it’s been a long, long while,
Something hauntingly familiar,
My thoughts beguile.
Memories sometimes lapse,
But time cannot disguise,
I believe it was your smile,
Not your laughing eyes.
No words spoken here,
Nor lofty man-made towers.
Simple use of thought exchange —
No clock to chime the hours.
Corridors of time are hazy.
Dust covers her ancient fold.
Recollections thwart and tease
In this timeless mold.
Pardon my intrusion
Into your hallowed space.
Forgive my poor conclusion,
But…I never forgot your face.
Timeless memories the past can blur,
Yet never to erase
Our footprints o’er paths we walked,
Another time…another place.
Thoughts we shared, flowers touched,
As we made our way.
Soft words exchanged, feelings passed,
Fragrance lingering where we lay.
Enraptured by you still,
Forever I’ll repose.
Would you linger her a while,
My spiritual, timeless rose?
U.S.S. ARIZONA
After standing on the decks of the memorial for the U.S.S. Arizona,
I wrote this poem to honor our fallen comrades on the
50th Anniversary of that day, December 7, 1991.
It is included in my book, Autumn Leaves.
We came to pay you tribute,
O’er encrusted decks we stood.
And because you are deserving,
We rendered as we could.
Oil seeps up to surface light,
Rainbowed tears of those below,
Doomed forever to silence
Those many long years ago.
“Forget me not,” you whisper.
“Perish the thought,” say I.
“Though you sleep beneath the sea,
Your memory shall not die!”
“Remember Pearl! Remember Pearl!”
Soon became our national cry.
Our country rose in anger
On a vengeance trail to fly.
We shed our tears; we shed our blood.
War took an awesome toll.
Still we fought on to victory
While you topped our “Honor Roll.”
So rest in peace, fellow comrades,
The victory has been won.
We’ll not forget the price you paid
Seven December, Nineteen Forty-One.
Note: Oil still seeps out of the hull of the U.S.S. Arizona, creating rainbows on the water above it.
I Am
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
That which refreshes my soul.
That which renews my life.
That which gives life meaning.
That which gives purpose to existence.
That which gives center, balance,
Quietly directing our pathways.
That which our consciousness innately
Understands is right or wrong.
That which is beautiful from any angle,
In any light, from any distance.
That which cannot be changed, disfigured,
Or transformed into anything but beautiful.
That which is true to life forever.
That which lives in truth throughout eternity.
That which brings peaceful serenity
As it strips away falsehoods by knowledge.
That which makes the unique, alone,
Thrills us, yet challenges us onward.
That in us which cannot be denied
But accepted and exalted in reverence.
The I AM of the Universe, Father of Lights,
The Alpha and Omega, first and last,
Which lived, died, yet lives again forevermore.
That is what we recognize in ourselves! HIM!
Glorify His Name in all places, at all times
That your days may be long, your peace steady.
Praise Him in all things, for all blessings.
Place your feet upon the path and follow HIM!
Reach For The Stars
Always reach for the stars!
If you only achieve halfway,
you’ll have gone farther than most
Because they failed to even try.
Add feet to your dreams and prayers.
Start by writing them down,
including a beginning step to make them a reality.
Synergy will be created thereby.
Seek
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Seek not for that which is not,
Nor ever was.
Follow not after lies
Or man-made cause.
Seek out truth and
“Peace be still.”
Let your heart and soul
Be filled.
Seek for that which was
And still is.
Love and Life —
Both are His.
More precious than the Rubaiyat
of Omar Khayyam.
Seek and find the one
And only true “I AM.”
wfosterwelborn 