6 Poems

A SPECIAL IMPORTANCE

 

 

There is a box in the darkness of my closet.

I don’t have to pull it out; I know what is there.

In the bottom of that box,

Covered over by the tattered ribbons and the report cards,

The diploma and the yellow stained graduation gown,

Is a book.

It is a book filled with the memories of a part of my life

That I never thought would be in the past.

 

 

Your face is in that book.

Yes, I remember you.

I didn’t know your name, but I saw you.

I passed you in the hall, and I glanced your way for a moment,

But I went on by.

 

 

You may have been the golden boy,

The star of every team the school had.

You may have been the quiet one who no one quite understood.

You may have even been the obnoxious one that no one liked.

Whoever you were, you were there.

 

 

When my life has finally slowed down,

And I am forced to think, instead, of the life behind me;

When my mind wanders back to a time suddenly very important to me;

When I remember my youth,

You were there.

And for the first time, but not the last,

You are important to me.

 

 

(I wrote this during my senior year in high school.  I

showed it to a girl in one of my classes, not knowing that

she was on the yearbook committee.  She wanted to put

this poem in the year book; but I wouldn't let her.  I was

too afraid that someone might make fun of the sentiment

or find some other fault.)

 

 

 

 

DO NOT FEEL ALONE

 

How lonely you look, little toy,

On the floor beneath the bed.

Do you know that someone is watching,

Little bear made with tenderness?

Little bear stuffed with feathers…and love?

 

You seem confused.

Each night tiny hands seek you out

And pull you to that young breast.

You feel the comfort of a tender embrace.

 

But the minutes tick by in the darkness.

The loving grip soon loosens,

And you drop to the floor idle…forgotten.

 

Do not feel alone,

Little bear made with tenderness.

Little bear stuffed with feathers…and love.

Tomorrow the sun will shine on the closed eyes.

The child will wake,

And the tiny hands will reach for you again

With love.

 

(This was published in Southern State Community College's

 1988 "Expressions" publication.) 

 

 

GRANDMOTHER

 

Soft is the breast of a grandmother.

Loving is her embrace.

Cheering is the laugh of a grandmother.

Welcome, her face.

  

Christian is the song-singing grandmother

Telling of streets lined with gold.

Sad is the fact that a grandmother

Grows old.

  

So taken for granted is a grandmother.

So forgotten in our daily living.

So trusting is a soft-hearted grandmother.

And Forgiving.

  

Sad is the death of a grandmother.

So unexpected and unplanned.

Lonely are the closed eyes of a grandmother.

Cold is her hand.

  

Justice is becoming a grandmother.

Past all of the young years and good.

So remembered is our own grandmother.

And so understood.

 

(This was published in Southern State Community College's

1988 "Expressions" publication.  It has been changed

quite a bit since then, however.) 

 

 

 

THE DAYDREAMER

 

I sit behind you now

Studying the curves of your back

Beneath the cotton shirt.

How perfect and strong you seem.

One arm is draped carlessly

Over the pew beside you.

What I want with all of my might

At this moment

Is to feel your arms around me.

Just a hug.

Just to know that you care for me.

Is that too much to ask?

 

How softly your dark brown hair

Falls onto your tan neck.

When you turn your head,

I can see your strong face

With that same blank expression.

What I want with all of my might

At this moment

Is to see those lips form a smile

In my direction.

Just a smile.

Just to know that you care for me.

Is that too much to ask?

 

I think you know that I am watching.

I seems that I can see your eyes

Straining to see from the corners

Whether or not I am studying you.

I am.

 

What are you thinking right now?

Your dark eyes hold such a look

Of determination.

If I am thinking only of you,

Could it be that your thoughts are of me?

Could it be?

When the service is over, will you look at me

And smile, and perhaps even say “Hello”?

What I want with all of my might

At this moment

Is to hear you say “Hello”.

Just to say "Hello."

Just to know that you care for me.

Is that too much to ask?

 

(This was published in Southern State Community College's

1988 "Expressions" publication.  I used a pen name, because

I was such a coward.)

 

 

 

MY UNCAST STONE

  

There is a stone hidden deep in my pocket,

Far out of sight but still within reach.

I will probably never use it;

I feel only love for those that I meet.

 

Still I keep my stone close to me, held fast.

For if I should happen to see

Some brother or sister in Christ

Prove less than they should be,

I’ll need a weapon.

 

And if others should listen to what they hear;

Begin to look at what they see;

And then, perchance, someone should dare

Point out a tiny fault in me;

I’ll need protection.

 

Now there are times, during moments of weakness,

When, grudgingly, I seem to remember

How men once brought a woman to Jesus

And expected him to condemn her.

 

My Lord simply turned and spoke to the men.

“Let he without sin cast a stone.”

And he challenged them all to look within

To find a guilty one.

 

I am sure that one day I will open my eyes

And begin to look within.

And then I may just realize

It is myself I should condemn.

 

Perhaps I will learn not to judge anyone,

And my tight, cautious grip can loosten.

From that day on I’ll not need my stone.

But I’ll keep it with me…until then.

 

 

 

 

 

FROM HERE ON MY CHURCH PEW

  

 

I am sitting on a church pew

among my family and friends.

In the comfort of my home town,

out where the blacktop ends.

 

I am thinking of the blessings

my Lord has given me;

The salvation of my soul… 

My homeland’s liberty.

 

I look to the man beside me,

Cherishing the love we have,

When I see just past his profile

…through the window…our nation’s flag.

 

I watch the colors, stars, and stripes

billow proudly in the air

And I think of those who gave their lives

so I can see it waving there.

 

At first I am elated

that in this single place and time

I have tangible reminders

of these three great loves of mine.

 

Then a sadness washes over

as I think about the way

That my country now demands of me

To put my Lord away.

 

Our fathers avowed in stone and gold

the words “in God we trust”

And now we’re being told

that freedom from God is a must.  

 

There have been some unexpected changes

in the past two hundred years

To the freedoms that were paid for

with blood…with sweat…with tears.

 

The freedom to express discontent

with the governing powers that be

Has become the freedom to profane,

to mock, to display pornography.

 

The freedom to choose for whom we will work

Or where and with whom we will live

Has become the freedom to deny and scrape away

Any "life" we didn't mean to give.

 

The freedom to pray, teach, worship, and praise

Our Holy Father and his son

Must be only a private practice now

Lest we offend even one.

 

I think of all our nation’s judges

in their respectable positions

Who have changed our freedoms year by year

with their precedent-setting decisions.

 

I ask you, honorable Supreme Court Justices

and lawmakers everywhere.

From here on my church pew, I can see my country’s flag.

But can you see the cross from there?

 

I think of our highly educated surgeons

performing miracles every day.

Then I think of those who use their skills

to take little “miracles” away.

 

I ask you, doctors and medical staff

in abortion clinics everywhere.

From here on my church pew, I can honor my country’s flag.

But can you honor the cross from there?

 

I think about our public school teachers

trying to educate a nation.

Who now no longer have the right

to even theorize "creation.”

 

I ask you, board members and administrators

in public schools everywhere.

From here on my church pew, I can respect my country’s flag.

But can you respect the cross from there?

 

When I think of the recent policies and laws

our elected officials have made,

I know that, sadly, they reflect a people

whose vision has started to fade.

 

Do we really believe God’s patience

will simply stretch and twist and bend?

Can we be so sure that “majority rules”

will hold up in the end?

 

I ask my fellow Americans,

so “free” and “loving life” out there.

From here on my church pew, I can cherish my country’s flag.

But can you cherish the cross from there?

 

 

 

(It is important to me that people know that I am thrilled to live

in a country with the freedoms that we have.  I am not suggesting

that we need to have any of our freedoms taken away.  I am

merely expressing sadness at the extent that some choose to

stretch and push their freedoms.)