Blog Archives

Worry!

Worry not about today,

Nor of tomorrow.

For in another day,

Short-lived will be your sorrow.

 

Time blessed both are

As history they will be,

Presenting another dilemma

For your mind to see.

 

As you concern yourself of the morrow,

And contemplate the day,

You will see that tomorrow never arrives

Because it becomes Today!

From a song on “Fiddler on the Roof”

“Sunrise, sunset, swiftly fly the years…

One season following another,

Laden with happiness and tears.”

 

View of Front Range, Denver, CO

View of Front Range, Denver, CO

View of Front Range, Denver, CO

View of Front Range, Denver, CO

View of Front Range Denver, CO

View of Front Range
Denver, CO

Anniversary of 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.

USS Arizona0002 USS Arizona USS Arizona0001

Note: Oil still seeps out of the hull of the U.S.S. Arizona, creating rainbows on the water above it.

Africa

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

I hear the cry of Africa,

See her saddened plight —

Lackluster eyes, no hope or dreams,

Watch day and night.

 

Listless resignation,

Men gaze o’er vast parched plains,

Useless to plant in dried-out earth,

Waiting for blessed rains.

 

People far past anguish,

No more tears to shed,

No food, no clothes,

Hard earth for a bed.

 

Hunger pains diminished,

No longer feeling pain,

Too little food, too late,

And no one to blame.

 

I hear the cries of Africa,

Mourning on the winds,

In wake of death,

Starving hands reach quietly for their friends.

 

Haunting face of children

As hunger stalks this land.

No quarter given, and death lurks

For both beast and man.

 

Women stand bewildered,

Eying their helpless brood,

Wasting away, to laugh no more

For simple lack of food.

 

I hear the cry of Africa,

Wafting o’er the dry blasted sand,

People of proud heritage,

But what future in this drought-stricken land?

The Eagle Cried

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

Mighty symbol of our country,

Against clear-blue skies,

I looked and beheld

Tears in his eyes.

 

“How did this happen?”

Asked I in dismay —

For Old Glory still waves

From the flagstaff this day.

 

I struggled to look through

His lofty point of view,

To see what he saw

From his high realm of blue.

 

Huge tracts of farmland,

Deserted by man —

Farmers of the soil

Being pushed off their land.

 

Pleasure-seeking people,

All searching in vain,

Rich and the famous,

Fleeting moments of fame.

 

Unnoticed people,

Eyes staring in defeat,

Ignored by society,

Sleeping in the street.

 

Pollution and turmoil,

Boundless in array,

People turning blind eyes,

Living for the day.

 

High-rise buildings,

Boredom and despair,

Decaying old cities,

Streets needing repair.

 

A God-fearing people,

Many gone astray.

Old-fashioned virtues

No longer hold sway.

 

Turning away in sorrow,

I shrugged, then sighed,

For it was so plain to see

Why our eagle had cried.

 

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.

 

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.

USS Arizona USS Arizona0001 USS Arizona0002

Note: Oil still seeps out of the hull of the U.S.S. Arizona, creating rainbows on the water above it.

Tribulation

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

Days of turbulence, tempest tossed,

Ability to think, reason, logic lost.

 

No peace, wars, unfounded fears,

Hunger abounds, homeless, flowing tears.

 

Scripture disregarded, rights ignored,

Pervasive living, greed, joy ignored.

 

Foretold from ancient past, no attention paid,

Foundations crumbling, destructive path all laid.

 

Continue onward then, soul closed to light,

Ignore the homeless, hungry masses, struggling in life’s fight.

 

Close eyes and ears in ignorance, ignore the coming shock.

Look not for the Good Shepherd, coming for His flock.

Happiness and Sorrow

This thought comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

Happiness is sought after before sorrow.

Laughter is sought after before crying.

Those who appreciate happiness and laughter most

Are those who have shed many tears through sorrow.

%d bloggers like this: