REFLECTIONS

A COLLECTION OF POEMS & IDYLLS

CELEBRATING LOVE & LIFE

RGEGRoriginal works by

David H. V. H. Meisburger

&

Margaret Symons Taber

GAuthor Publications

by Margaret Symons Taber

Echoes of a Singing Heart1st Printing 1955 – Comet Press Books, New York

Chiaroscuro1st Printing 1965 – Young Publications, Virginia

Wings on the Wind1st Printing 1976 – Dorrance & Company, Philadelphia

GDedication

My life began at 4:02am, Saturday, August 1, 1953, in the village of Ballston Spa, located in upstate New York, not just as the eldest of my mother’s three children, but also considered by my grandmother as my being her fifth and “youngest child.”

My grandmother was, like most, the gentlest, kindest, and most patient of people, openly sharing her innate love of life, nature and the wonders of the world with me, beginning with teaching me to read and appreciate art in all its myriad forms as a tiny toddler, which has lastingly endured my 63+ years.

My grandmother penned four books of poetry, her first being nothing more than a small soft leather bound handbook, with her other three books published in standard hardcover form.

Her extended family members, both human and animal, provided her primary poetic inspiration, however, nature constantly inspired her God-given talents to capture something as precious to the soul as the ethereal emotion found languishing within the fleeting caress of a warm summer breeze.

That, and more, endeared her to me forever.In my teen years “Grammy” began encouraging me to write and began

collecting my poems with her voiced intention of submitting them to her publisher. Alas, I felt my works too personally intimate to share with anyone besides her and my current beloved, thus I always steadfastly resisted her repeated efforts to submit them for publishing.

Sadly, she passed away roughly thirty years ago and it’s been only recently

that I’ve come to realize how selfish I must have seemed to her by creating something that she felt would connect with and be appreciated by others, only to keep them to myself.

Her books were published in the mid-1900’s and are only to be found residing on the dusty shelves of her few remaining relatives, which is why, as her heir, I’ve chosen to resurrect my favorites of hers “by inheritance” and include them here amongst my own efforts, her silken poems and my muslin ones.

Therefore, it’s with great pride and pleasure that I dedicate this book of poetry to my esteemed grandmother, Margaret Symons Taber (MST).

I realize it’s many, many years too late for her to enjoy this book in written form, but I hope that she and I can reflect upon this book’s contents, and much, much more, in our joyful afterlife together.

Respectfully, your eldest grandson, also lovingly referred to by you as being your youngest child.

DHVHM

GA Selection of Poems

& IdyllsI’ve chosen from:

Echoes of a Singing Heart

1st Printing 1955 – Comet Press Books, New York

Authored by my Grandmother:

Margaret Symons Taber

* * * * *

Presented for you here by way of my loving tribute to her illustrious memory.

I’ll begin this book with my grandmother’s first poem ever written about me. At the time of her writing I was in my toddling “terrible two’s,” being raised on their

upstate New York dairy farm by my mother while my father was away serving in the United States Navy. All of her poems that follow in each of her three dedicated

sections are my favorites and are being presented in the exact same written style and formatting as they originally appeared in each of her three books.

* * * * *

To Davy

Who bit the apple and just left it there?Who has been playing with overturned chair?Who has left jam on the green leather seat?Who but an Imp who is naughty but sweet.

Who loves the dogs with a strangling love?Who has put mud on my best Sunday glove?Who pounded dents in each new pot and pan?No other, of course…than Grammy’s wee man.

Who worries goldfish and teases the bird,And squeals to high heaven to make himself heard?Who smiles like an angel and knows how to cryWithout having so much as one tear in his eye?

Who bangs on the table demanding his food,And keeps us all guessing about every mood?Will he eat it, throw it, or just leave it there?That’s Grammy’s wee cherub and “devil-may-care.”

For Beauty, that cherub is top of the heap.He can be angelic and even be neat.He’s laughable, lovable, cuddly and dear.He thinks like an adult, that fact is quite clear.

He’s small, but he’s mighty,And doubtless has plans---But I just surrender---My heart’s in his hands!

MST

My Grandpaw

My grandpaw was a stubborn man.My mother said, “He’s firm.”My father said, “He’s cussed.“The danged old man won’t learn.”

But I thought he was someone great,As great as man could be,He’d whiskers I could braid and tie---An’ peppermints for me.

He’d reach down in his pocketsAn’ bring out his pocket knife.An’ tell me not to touch it,For the very fear of life.

He’d search some more,An’ maybe find some string, tobacco, too,A nail or bolt or silver coin,Or gumdrop I could chew.

He’d stay a while, then put me down,And say he guessed he’d go.His horse and he were pretty oldAn’ gettin’ kind of slow.

“I’ll go at three---then I’ll have time“To see my old friend Lee.“An’ still have time to feed the stock,“Before it’s time for tea.”

My Mother would protest and say,“It’s early yet---sit down.“It isn’t very often now“That you come in to town.”

“Go right out now, unhitch your horse,“And stay here for the night.“We’ll ask friend Lee if he has room

“To bed your horse all right.”

My grandpaw’d look at her and smileAn’ say, “I’ll go at three.“I’ve got some errands I must do“I must be home for tea.”

Then Father’d call up Lee an’ say,“Could Grandpaw leave his bay“Alongside yours, an’ could you give“The critter drink and hay?”

Then he’d come back and tell GrandpawThat Lee said ’twas all right.He’d bed his horse an’ give him feedSo Gramp could stay the night.

Then Grandpaw smiled and thanked himAn’ said, ’Twas mighty kind, To go to so much troubleJust to change a person’s mind.

But Grandpaw---he’d just watch the clock,An’ on the dot of three,He’d get his old fur coat an’ cap,Kiss Mother and kiss me.

He’d smile at Father as he said,“Son when you’re eighty-four,“Be sure you’re right---then, go ahead.”An’ he’d gently close the door.

* * * * *

Motherhood

Standing beside her little crib,I gaze with awe at life so new.Her hair of palest gold is curledIn clinging strands of shining hue.One little hand is tightly clenched,One open like a tiny flower,Waiting for dreams to creep inside

When cast adrift from stardust shower.

So small, so flawless, so serene---I dare not interrupt her dream.Her own small world is far away,Between the earth and Heaven’s sky.I cannot reach the place, I know,It was not meant for such as I.

Sometimes we shall be very near.Sometimes we shall be far apart.Yet through all worlds to comeI’ll keepThis moment deep within my heart.

CourageCourage is a funny thing.It whispers, “Push along.”When you stumble, then it sings,“It’s better farther on.”When clouds of doubt surround you,Ideals and dreams seem vain.Courage gently lifts you upAnd says, “We’ll try again.”

* * * * *

Never Tell Your Troubles

I can’t build a castle, couldn’t paint a scene,Never danced a polka, haven’t got a dream;I can’t be a beauty, I’ve no claim to fame,Seem to have a very ordinary name.But I’ve got a virtue---have it if you can;Never tell your troubles, not to any man.Friends don’t want to hear them, strangers never do;There’s no interest in ’em, so I advise you toListen, if you’re clever; smile whene’er you can,Never tell your troubles---not to any man.

* * * * *

God Grant I May Remember

God grant I may remember, when I am old and gray,How sweet it was to hold my son close in my arms today.God grant I may remember the love which filled my heart,As I felt his little body and realized he was a partOf me and of his Dad…and yet, he is of You…my lad.God grant I may remember the patter of his feetAs he tried to imitate his Dad, while walking down the street.God grant I may remember his sunny, baby smile,His pleading, coaxing phrases that were uttered without guile.God grant me power to still each fear, to guide and guard him too,Inspire him with a courage that will keep him clean and true.God grant I may remember in future years to come,The joys I had, and hope to have, because I have a son.

Your Eyes

I longed for happiness each day,For skies of clearest blue;I searched for golden treasure,Pink petals kissed by dew.

I dreamed of pearls which shone and glowedIridescent in the sun;I hoped for love and laughterWhen the day was done.

I woke and found my happinessIn eyes of clearest blueFrom a baby’s face that gazed at me,Your baby face---’twas you.

The golden treasure too was there;Your curls with tumbled graceFormed a halo for your headAnd clustered ’round your face.

The petals pink were in your cheek,The pearls were in your smile,

The love and laughter in my heartAs I held you awhile.

So let life come and pass me by,Let Fortune frown or smile;No one can ever take awayThe wealth within your smile.Nothing has the power to mar this love,No distance, fear, or time;For it was given me from God---Gift mortal and divine.

When courage fails, or skies are gray,I only need to seeYour eyes, and in their blue depths findOur immortality.

Little ThingsJust little things---short ends of string,A marble, nail or lock,A broken spring, or bell to ringFrom a discarded clock,

Two barrel staves to use for skis, A dishpan on a slide,A penny flattened by a train---Fill all small boys with pride.

Tread carefully---for values changeAs months make up each year.And memories cling to little thingsOur hearts once held so dear.For childhood treasures sometimes playAn all important part,And small boys’ dreams forever needYour understanding heart.

* * * * *

I’ll Tell You Why

My Mom says, “God is in the sky.”

I think He’s here---very near---I’ll tell you why.’Cause one day, I climbed up a wall,An’ I was scared---it was so tall,(I felt so very, very small)So I said, “God don’t let me fall.”I thought he didn’t hear me call‘Cause I did fall down, down---kerplunk---But bounced just like a ball.An’ when I tried to walk, I foundI wasn’t hurt at all.

* * * * *

Small Garments in a Row

Little baby garments, hanging in a row.Even washing can’t erase the profile of each toe.Little tiny toes they were, soft and oh, so sweet.Patter, patter, patter, went the music of your feet.Such a short, short time it seems,Since I held you dear.Gloried in your baby laugh, dried each baby tear.Laughter sang within my heart, prayer of new-born joyWelled within my mother’s breast, for God gave me a boy.Years have passed. Or have they passed?Is this just a dream?This tearing, searing, blinding pain, smothering my soul’s scream.Oh deaden sense of hearing, so I may not knowThe dreadful meaning of those words heard an hour ago.“Your son was killed in action---Battalion 23.”“No, God, no! It can’t be true!“Give back my son to me.”Tear-blind I grope and stumble to your bed nearby.In the darkness of this night, other mothers cry.You are far beyond me---Oh Son, I want you so, not just dreams and memoriesOf small garments in a row.

* * * * *

“If Youth Could Have the Wisdom of Age”

I bought myself vast acres,

I bought the lumber, too,And had a bigger mansion builtThan any that I knew.

I filled it full of treasuresFrom Lands both near and far,And jewels of every color shoneFar brighter than a star.

I spoke---but no one answered.My jewels were bright, but cold.The years went by from youth to age.I found that I was old.My treasures still were silent;My eyes were getting dim.In age, I’d found the answer,In age, I knew my sin.The treasures I had longed forWere always by my side.Almost too late, I woke to findMy dreams were made of Pride.

I walked beyond the dreams I had;I lay upon the sod.I felt the beating of my heart;I heard the voice of God.

I saw a little dragon-fly;I heard a robin sing.I knelt in humble thankfulness---I’d found my Youth and Spring.

Utopia

Down a soft green trail, she skippedWith a pail upon her arm;Bending low, to lift with careA golden butterfly from harm.

Pressing close her dark brown cheekTo the sweetness of the ferns,Laughing softly as she tripsDown the path which twists and turns.

Land of magic, deep with dreaming,Blue with heaven’s shimmering light;Bubbling springs and rippling waters,Spangled, star-filled skies at night.

Dark green fir trees, pale white birches,Violets nestling at their feet,Fragrance fragile, yet enduring,Infinitely sweet.

In this land I played and wandered,In this land I dreamed and grew,Traced each path and flower in memory,Each day changing, ever new.

Gathering each one as a treasure,Making each my life a part.Bits of magic, dream dust, star dust!Each one etched within my heart.

Small brown girl with dark braids swinging,Small dog running by her side,Plunging in the clear blue water,Foam-flecked gypsy in the tide.

Brown braids change to tarnished silver,Still the magic will remainWhen I see a small girl trippingDown a fragrant, fern-bound lane.

When I hear a small dog barking,Or butterflies, I seeTime will turn, as if by magic,Dreams become reality.

To Janie

How I thrill to watch you playing

With your toys upon the floor,And I smile with satisfaction,When my cookies you adore.

I glow with deep, parental prideWhen you read your A B C’s;I love to tell you fairy tales,While you hug your baby knees.

Yet I think the greatest thrill of allIs to feel your hand in mine,Just to know you love and trust me,Makes me feel I’m mighty fine.

I feel I can achieve great things,For your trust my life could mold,If only I might always have,Your little hand to hold.

* * * * *

To Inky

I like my guns and holsters.I like my cowboy hat.I like the cards I get in gum.I like my ball and bat.

I like to ride and fish and swim.I like to climb a tree.But, best of all, I like to sleepWith Inky close to me.

He chews my ears and licks my face,He thinks I am just grand.No matter if I’m, good or bad,He seems to understand.

He wags his little white-tipped tail,And licks my grimy hands.He’s not like folks---he’s special-like---He always understands.

To a Sixteen-Year-Old

Your very first formal---with an orchid to wear.Your pigtails have turned into sleek upswept hair.Your eyes are like stars as you poise for your

flight,Into a world of romantic delight.I whisper a prayer as glad tears dim my sight.May your heart always sing,As it’s singing tonight.

* * * * *

Dickie’s Story to His Mother

“When I’m grown up,” you say,“I’ll buy a four-door car.“An’ no matter where I am at night,“I’ll drive right where you are.”

“I’ll bring my friends all with me,“An’ we’ll bust right through the door.“We’ll wake you up with hollerin’“An’ stampin’ on the floor.”

“Come down and cook some chicken.“We’re hungry as can be.“An’ then you’ll come, all shiny-eyed,“The way I knew you’d be.”

“Oh little son, you are so sweet,“Please let this all come true.“The night you bust right through the

door,“I’ll cook for all of you.”

* * * * *

Dickie’s “Faces on the Wall”

Today you stuck some Santa seals,’Round the pillars in the hall.Yesterday you put some facesOn the newly painted wall.

Tomorrow, maybe, it will beSome ink, or oil or grease.I sometimes wonder if your pranksWill never, never cease.

Of course, I know deep in my heart,You’ll soon be grown and tall.You’ll go away and how I’ll wishFor faces on the wall.

Resolution of an Eight-Year-Old Daughter

I’ll help you do the work, Mom,I’ll wash the dishes, too,An’ sweep the floors and dust the chairs,While you make Dad some stew.If I have time I’ll help you mend.And then I’ll rake the yard.I’m just so full of pep today---Who says that work is hard?The pictures in this magazineAre really awfully funny.When I grow up I’ll sing and danceAnd make a lot of money.This room looks worse now than it did.Oh dear! What should I do?Why did I empty out that box,Those drawers and cupboards too?Oh! Couldn’t we go out now?I’ll teach you how to play.I guess I’m tired---can I go nowAnd work another day?

* * * * *

To Dick and Jim

There are dreams behind your eyes---I can see them shining through,Elves in brown with dancing feet,Fairies dressed in blue,

Notes of music filled with songsBirds swinging in the sky,Courageous deeds awaiting,Silver aeroplanes to fly,

Stories of a thousand things,Waiting for you to unfold,Tales of high adventure,About pirates and their gold.

Dreams that shine behind your eyes,Tell of things that are to be.Cherish them deep in your heart;Someday, bring them back to me.

A Tale of Long Ago

Long ago in a great and wondrous castle lived a mighty King. As far as worldly goods were concerned he possessed far more than he knew what to do with, but instead of being happy, he was miserable. One night, thinking he would forget his troubles in sleep, he went to his Royal Chamber, but when he lay down he heard the roar of thunder and then the lash of rain against the windows. Knowing sleep would be impossible while the storm lasted, he sprang from his bed, cursed the rain, walked the floor and wished for dawn. With the first golden rays of the rising sun he once again lay down, but no sooner had he closed his eyes than the full-throated song of the birds came to him; the rosy rays of the sun crept through the windows and the baying of hounds from a fox hunt nearby again disturbed his hope of repose. He rose, cursing the day. A servant, hoping to help his master, suggested a walk through the Royal gardens, and the King agreed. The grass proved wet from the night’s rain, and he was annoyed by the chattering of the squirrels. He saw no beauty in the morning

and once more returned to his chamber, barring the door and windows from the noise and sun outside. Sitting alone, he looked around the room, wondering what it could be that had failed to bring him the happiness and peace of mind he sought. Beautiful paintings by the great masters adorned the walls, jewels covered his fingers, the perfume of a thousand flowers drifted about the room from the various costly incense burners. He had a powerful army, great estates, and thousands of subjects to do his slightest bidding, musicians from all parts of the world to play for him, yet all this failed to satisfy the longing for---he knew not what. The King called a wise old seer to him and asked, “What is it I desire?” But the wise man knew not. He thought anyone should be content to have the wealth and power the King had. Not wishing to see his King unhappy, he suggested that he send out a decree to all parts of his kingdom to the effect that his subjects, rich and poor alike, should bring in a basket the thing they treasured most. “Surely,” said the seer, “among all the things that will be brought will be the one thing you desire.” So the royal decree went forth; on a stated day the gardens around the castle were filled with people from all stations of life. The King eagerly watched as they placed the treasures at his feet. Princes had brought jewels and those of lesser birth had brought the treasures dearest to them. Beggars and nobles mingled together sharing the one desire to please their King. Standing alone some distance from the others was an old man. He had neither gold nor jewels, nor did he carry a basket as the others did. After examining all the treasures the King looked sadly around. He had all these things---the thing he sought was not among any of the gifts. Suddenly he saw the old man. He bade a servant bring the man to him. The King frowned when he saw that the old man had brought no treasure and demanded the reason. “Did you not hear the decree? Where is your treasure?” The old man bent his feeble body and knelt before the King. “Your Majesty, I had nothing I could carry in a basket, but I bring you the greatest treasure in the world. It is Happiness Your Majesty seeks.” “Don’t jest my man, or you will die! I am not here to be made a fool of by such as you. Come, speak if you would save your life.” The old man raised his eyes and no one but the King saw how bright and wonderful a light lay in them. A murmur of protest went through the crowd. “Who is this man who dares disobey our King?” The King silenced them with a gesture of his hand. “Speak, speak, and if you have not brought me that which I desire, you shall die!”

“I have no jewels nor cloth of gold,”(The old man’s voice was low)“I have no health, I have no wealth,

“My step is old and slow.

“Once long ago, in a distant land,“I was a monarch, too,“But with my health and boundless

wealth“No Happiness I knew.

“I called a servant to my side;“I asked his sound advice.“He said he’d give me what I sought“If I would pay the price.

“I gladly offered all I had---“My kingdom and my lands---“So first he took away my crown,“Then the jewels from my hands.

“ ‘Go far away my lord,’ he said,“ ‘Make friends along the way,“ ‘And let the smiles of children“ ‘Be the sunshine of your day.’

“I could not go back on my word;“I said I’d pay the price,“And so I found myself alone,“With just this man’s advice.

“In traveling around I learned“The struggles of the heart,“In human lives I learned to know“The way to play my part.

“A smile for those who wore a frown“A kindly deed each day“Made service to one’s fellow men“A joy along the way.

“In nature then, I also found“No human voice could sing“The notes that filled the air with song“And made the woodlands ring.

“The rushing of the mountain brooks,“The whisper of the pines,“The thrill of songbirds everywhere---“These bring contented minds.

“I gathered from the sun’s great store“A fresh supply of life;“I found in fragrance of the flowers“Forgetfulness of strife.“And so to you, Oh Majesty,“I bring these secrets old,“The Happiness you cannot buy“With all your wealth and gold.”

The King wonderingly took the old man’s hand and seated him at his side. He could not understand the old man giving up all his wealth. “You say you once owned a kingdom as rich as this? You had paintings, jewels and musicians. Did you not often long for all these things when traveling alone?” The old man smiled. The same deep light was in his eyes as he replied,

“For paintings I had sunsets,“And in the early dawn,“I found the brightest diamonds“Gleam and sparkle on the lawn.

“For musicians, as I told you,“I had the birds and bees,“The chattering of the squirrels“As they played among the trees,

“The babble of the mountain brook“As it rushed among the hills,“Or the murmur of the streamlet“As it flowed in tiny rills.

“The diamonds in the snow-banks“Were jewels enough for me,“And the moonlight and the starlight“Were wonderful to see!

“Tho’ I have no treasure you can hold“Within your jeweled hand,“I have brought you now my secret

“From far and distant land.

“If you will just accept it,“I will guarantee you’ll find“The happiness you’re seeking“And a well-contented mind.

“Three magic words I leave with you“And they form a golden key---“Service, Love, and Understanding“Will mean Happiness for thee.

“They will open up for you, Oh King,“The treasure you would find,“The way to every human heart,“And the love of all mankind.”

With a new feeling of happiness the King turned to thank the old man but he only found his faithful servant bending over him saying, “You have slept well, Your Majesty, I hope you are rested.” So it was all a dream. His Majesty arose, this time with a smile on his lips instead of a curse. At last he had found the long-desired treasure!

* * * * *

Thus endeth this first section.

GA Selection of Original

Poems

Authored by:

David H.V.H. Meisburger

* * * * *

This section includes a variety of poems from my personal collection that I penned during my youth. My first offering is a “protest” poem that I wrote in 1971 as an English class assignment in my senior year of high school while living in San Jose, California. As I recall it garnered at least a passing grade. LOL. Or maybe that’s just how I choose to remember it! However, the other poems of this section range from cloyingly romantic to boyishly exuberant in form and I’ll honestly admit that they’re definitely lacking a great deal of the overall polished effect of an experienced writer. However, I feel that the authenticity of their being just that, completely raw and unpolished, may lend their meanings to be understood by both simple and educated folk alike. Each of them, as written, are just as plain-spoken on the surface as below, for none of them contain any hidden meanings, nor do they need any

form of critically insipid interpretation. My hope is that one or more of them bring you at least a small smile.

To the U.S.A. of the 70’s

The people todayare a gullible lot.

They see what they want,they ignore all the rot.

Some move to Hate,and others to Love.

Some side with the Hawks,the others with Doves.

Girls are Women’s Lib,Guys, Chauvinist Pigs.

The outside counts some,but for the real you just dig.

I’ve found that the problemwith people today

Is that everyone talksand goes their own way.

The world is for all,and not just for some.

But look what a fewhave made it become.

Is striking the answer

to solve all our needs?Or how about those

that wear the Love Beads?

The problems ariseand cause chaos each day.

All of these methodsjust add in their way.

Just look at L.A.,and the problems there are.

There people are walking,for they can’t use their car.

S.F. is another,and with problems is full,

So immense as to closetheir main hospital.

Between labor and food,gas strikes and oil,

These problems will soonbring it all to a boil.

The result may be onewhich no one has planned,

Since neither The Pill,nor The Bomb have been

banned.

The killings go up,and riots and graft.

Will someone please stopand look to the past?

Do something constructive,don’t just kill, rape and burn.

That lesson is OVER!HAVEN’T WE LEARNED?

Now is for living,not shafting ones’ friend.

Don’t look out for yourself

and hope it will end.

The Unions cost millionsto business each day.

At this rate how can theykeep raising your pay?

There’s SO much to do, and not much time is left,

before we’ve ruined it all,so give it your best.

Reach out to your neighborand help all your friends.

This way you can helpand bring it to end.

Be black, white, or brown,or yellow, or pink.

Surrounded by slums,or covered with mink.

Treat all the sameas they might towards you,

or someday the responsewill be something you rue.

I’m not at all sayingto just have a ball,

But, instead, work towards helpingthe remainder of All.

Christmas “disguised”

The season is “Christmas.” We all used to agree.Now the word “Holiday”has us put up a tree.

We decorate with stars and angels galore.

We shop at the malls.We shop at the stores.

Families still gather.Feasts are still cooked.Gifts are exchanged.Yet, with a new “look.”

Yes, religion is “touchy.”But it’s not to be feared. Christmas is one wayChristians unify each year.

It’s a season of giving.It’s a season of love. It’s wrapped up in faith.It’s peace with a dove.

Its message is simple.Yet it has power.Which frightens “outsiders.”Who stand back & glower.

This is why Christmas,the holiday and season, have been changed so much, without really a reason.

So on with the reindeerand Santa's full sleigh.We’ll each serve up “Christmas”in our own special way.

Some with hymns,others in song.There’s always next year,yes, it’s “right,” yes, it’s “wrong.”

A Christ-filled Christmasseems natural in kind.Agnostics and atheists never seemed to mind.

Sigh, years bring change.And attitudes arise.Celebrations curtail. It’s now Christmas “disguised.”

Well, marketing be danged. ’Cause I know in MY heart,there’s still Christ in Christmas,and a New Year to start!

* * * * *

It’s Simple

It only takes a simple phrase To life her spirits high.It only takes a simple thought To cause a weeping eye.

It only takes a simple word To cause her heart to race.It only takes a simple click To gaze upon his face.

It only takes a button push To make him go away.It only takes another one To bring him back to stay.

She’s never even held his hand, She’s never felt his touch.She shakes her head in wonder, ’Cause she loves him very much.

Oh My God, did she think “Love?” Can it possibly be?She knows it’s Lust, but is it Love? As from sea to shining sea?

It won’t be long, she’ll meet this man And gaze into his eyes.He’ll take her hand and kiss her nose, He’ll cuddle her and sigh.

It only takes a simple phrase To lift her spirits high.It only takes a simple thought To cause a weeping eye.

Beyond

Listening to Sunday sounds…the church bells as they ring…

the laughter, tears, the prayers…the hymnal songs they

sing…

The fellowship and love…that’s given Sunday morn’…

is carried upward on…the wings of Angels

borne…

And on through Heaven’s Gates…God smiles, without a sound…

His arms embrace the world…the Angels turn around…

The Rapture is at hand…you feel your heart rejoice…

your soul is floating free…you’re trav’ling to Gods

voice…

The Heaven that you see…is much like Earth…but more…

it’s love…and then beyond…what everlasting’s for…

* * * * *

My Wish For You

Take it easy, live your life.Give it meaning, never strife.

Love a lot, work hard tooand I guarantee success for you.

You live one life, so make it do.Don’t let others influence you.

Live for yourself, someone will come,and show YOU are the special one.

Yes, someday a man will come,you’ll wonder where you saw him from.

Did he appear out of thin air,or was he just always there?

The way he acts, the words he’ll say,will change you little day by day.

Until you’ll find with him you’ll stay,to love and live with him each day.

This is my wish I give to you.I sincerely hope it all comes true!

More Than Friends?

As I sit back, I dream of youand of all the things that we could do.

Skiing is one, dancing is two,and too many others…that’s so true!

But I am here, and you are there,all that parts us is land and air.

As my mind dreams, it wanders afarand then it appears, there the two of us are!

Wherever we go, to the snow or the sun,we always enjoy, and have lots of fun.

And as my mind dreams, it goes on to stray.We’re closer together, and that way we stay.

But the present has surfaced and shows me its face.Has what I’ve been dreaming been a disgrace?

Should I’ve not wandered through my mind quite so far?Should I’ve delayed, let us stay as we are?

This I can’t answer, for I do not know.I’ll leave it to you, for you now to show.

My feelings I’ve laid out for you to observe,to read and to listen, to all you have heard.

But I do not want to press you at all.I’ve seen that what happens is like hitting a wall.

A friend, yes, I am, and so I shall stay, until your approval comes winging my way.

The letters I write, and the answers returned, I’ll watch what you say, and see what I’ve learned.

What is too far, what now to say, and can I do it in acceptable ways.

Now this poem must end, with no more to say,than to think of me often, with each dawning day.

* * * * *

A Glimpse

Class today is boring,my mind is drawn afar…

There’s a rustle two rows overdisturbing dreams of Mustang

car.

My senior eyes spy sophomore girlshifting shyly in her seat…

Her skirts so short her anticsgive me the briefest, tiny peek.

She twists a finger in her hairand glances o’er my way…

I return her smile with a wink…class is interesting today!

Because of You

I’ve had my thrills across the world,I’ve traveled many lands…

don’t be surprised when all I wantis just to hold your hand.

You think I’m so adventurous,and brazen as can be…

but all I really want right now,just spend some time with me.

Yes, I’ve jumped from planes with ’chutes,I’ve skied and surfed and climbed…

but why do I surprise you soby saying you are kind.

I’ve done these things, I’ve lived my life,it’s been one great big whirl…

you’ve caught my eye, you stand right out,

just like a glist’ning pearl.

My Mind says, “Go, let’s run and play!”My Heart says, “No, let’s stay.”

I look at you and breathe a sigh…I’ll stay another day.

Shall I rue the day I stayed at homeand stopped my travels far?

Because of you I shake my head.NO, I'll stay here where you are!

* * * * *

Exuberance

Because I’m short and slight of build,I tried a sport called Soccer.

Oh wow, it’s fun and I do wellUsing foot and chest and knee,

But shooting at the goal I’ve found,

Just isn’t good for me.

I’m fleet of foot, which helps a lot,And I can run and run all day.

I think this game’s made just for me,I won’t shoot, but take away,

’Cause I’m better playing defense.

Oh wow, I love to play!

Decisions

Our life’s decisions show our soul,They determine how we live.

They take us wandering many paths.They determine who we’re with.

A small decision may not be,It may loom ever large with age.

The book of life we choose to writeIs filled with a single page.

The page is long, the page is short,The length is ours to choose.

It continues onward evermore,Until our life we lose.

Some have friends, some choose none,Some may care and love.

Some don’t know the gentle touchOf the hand within the glove.

Some may fall for lesser men,Or women with no stature.

But in the end the choice’s madeAre not to guess or wonder.

Embrace them, know them, hold them close,They’re yours to enjoy, or morn.For life is filled with torment too,

A heart is easily torn.

To mend takes time, too much for some,Some mend without regret.

Some brighten full with shining hope That the best hasn’t happened yet.

’Tis time to make another choice.Decision time is here.

Will it bring smiles and love?Or will it devastate to tears?

Our life’s decisions show our soul.They determine how we live.

They take us wandering many pathsThey determine who we’re with.

Life

Life is what you make of it,Some say it’s short by far.

Some say they live too long.I say it matters who you

are.

What you do, what you say,Are but a small, small part.

What matters most is how you feel

Deep within your heart.

Are you good? Are you bad?That’s for YOU to know.

The winds of change are ever there,

How constantly they blow.

The world will see one side of you,Your friends will see much more.

It’s not just for love you open upTo tell someone your

score.

At times it’s like you’re fishing,When you’re casting out your bait.

Will they look at it, ignore it,Nibble it, or take?

Will one cast do, or two, or three,

Or even take all day?Do you have the patience to

return?Or do you choose to

stay?

Life is NOT a circle,It’s actually just a line.

It always trails where ’ere you go,Just like a ball of twine.

There’s no “Great Plan” to follow,So where you go from here

Is up to you, it’s time to choose.Make your every

moment dear.

* * * * *

Memories

A thought, a deed, a casual word.An epic moment high.

A date, and being out with friends,or simple ones at home.

These all turn to memoriesTo cherish when alone.

Skiing

The snow is so whiteas it comes drifting down…

it contains no pollution,it’s not dirty brown.

I go up the chair-liftand look down, past my feet,

watching it fallso gentle and neat.

It thrills me to thinkthat as I’ll descend,

it just wouldn’t matterif the world were to end.

I come up to the topand slide off of the lift.

I turn with abandon,not a fall or a slip.

I gaze at the run,so sparkling, so white…

and push myself forward.My muscles are tight.

I pick up the paceand tuck into a ball.

I’m speeding past peopleand don’t wish to fall.

Spectators below melook up and stare

as I come hurtling downand jump through the

air.

I turn a few circlesas if to say

that I haven’t a care,or a worry today.

I’m just about there,at the foot of the run.

I’ll do it again…I just can’t have more

fun!

Skiing II

The mountains are white,all covered with snow,

I jump out of my car

all rarin’ to go.

I slip on my bootsand snap on my skis,

I go up the lift…God’s answered my

pleas.

Four inches of powderhave covered the run.

I turn all aroundand start to have fun.

Using tight turns and my jumps,and my great downhill skill,

I manage to skiwithout taking a spill.

I go up again,this time to the top.

When skiing time comes,I just can’t seem to stop.

I plummet on down,then try a new hill.

My adrenaline’s pumpingand I’ll not get my fill.

A really cute girlhas been watching me ski,

she admires my skilland asks me to tea.

I stop for a bite,

she thinks that I’m “fine.”Do I think I could teach her?

Do I have enough time?

Well, a lesson or twomay just be in line,

and she picks it all upin not too much time.

But girls are NOT whyI’ve come up to ski,

I’m soon on my wayand once again free.

Ah, lift lines go down,but so does the sun,

and now this is where the skiing becomes fun.

They turn on the lightsand I head up the lifts,

now trying to spotthe moguls and drifts.

But then, does it matterjust where they all are?

NO, I decide,and I gaze up at a star.

Well, now the day’s passed,so I go down to rest.

I think to myself,did I give it my best?

Others say, “YES.”But are they all right?

Did I do what I couldwith all of my might?

For now I shall sleep,in the back of my car,

’cause with prices today,well, that’s just how

things are.

In my dreams through the nightI watch myself ski.

I know I’ll turn pro,for some day to be.

Oops, I’ve awakened,

the time has now comefor me to start over

at the lifts and the runs.

From the tips of my skis,on back to their tails.

Over powder and cornI once again sail.

You’re invited the next timethat I travel to ski…

it’ll be you, and the mountains,and little ol’ me!

GA Selection of Poems

& IdyllsI’ve chosen from:

Chiaroscuro1st Printing 1965 – Young Publications, Virginia

Authored by my Grandmother:

Margaret Symons Taber

* * * * *

Presented for you here by way of my loving tribute to her illustrious memory.

Three Words

I’m black; my nose is broad upon my face,My hair, a kinky cap of curls,My lips are thick, but underneathMy smile gleams in the dark, like pearls.I’ve been content to do my work,Accept the role fate gave to me;My feet have music in their walk,My heart sings plaintive melody.A whisper struck the sunlit air,A shudder trembled in my heart,An unfamiliar fear was born…New longing for another part.I would not heed, I’d be content,Life was not long, for I am old,And yet, my children, what of them?Instead of copper, they’d have gold.Hot, stinging words were thrust, like swords,Upon the people I hold dear,Strange, rumbling sounds of hate and greedCome to my ever-listening ear.“Help me, Oh God, to do the right,Give wisdom to my doubting heart,Protect the ones I hold so dear,And show me how to do my part.I’ve always looked to Thee, for aid;I need Thy help, so tell me howI best can serve this new regime,What acts of mine can help, right now?”I seemed to hear three words I knew,Far too familiar, they were worn,I’d heard them from my parents tooYear upon year since I was born…Just…“Wait and pray.”…God how I laughed!My heart was torn with unshed tears,My patience splintered with the blastOf hopes I’d borne for untold years.I gathered all my dear ones ’round,We must not wait another day,

Our freedom was our goal at last,No longer wait, no longer pray.Fired by a zeal I’d never knownWe set the spark which burst in flame,Our cause was justice for all men,All men, at last, would be the same.The people gathered silent, strong,Dark people in a darker night,We swore allegiance to our cause,We’d die for freedom and we’d fight!Our weapons were home-made and crude,Our zeal was not a two-edged sword;The aftermath, a tortured thingWhich left my life more deeply scored.My Son, my only son, a boyOf just nineteen, so brave, so fine,Lay at my feet, with twisted smile,His dying eyes looked into mine,“I’m sorry Dad, we didn’t win,Perhaps there is another way,I’m sure that God will help us, Dad,If we have faith, work hard and pray!”He grasped my hand; I closed his eyes,I gathered him close to my breast,And kneeling in the dusty streetI prayed to God to give him rest.Why…God, this price, my only son?Why, God those words again today?The answer came…I’ll heed the voice…“Great wisdom comes to those who pray!”

* * * * *

Plea to November

November wind, why do you blow?To sweep the ground clean for the snow?Why tear the lone and withered leafThat clings to branch in lonely grief?Why must you roll the grey clouds downTo blot the sun away from town?Why can’t you blow yourself awayAnd let the sky peep through one day?

You shake the house and window panes,You bring the freezing, lashing rains,You bend the trees against the wall…Have you no tenderness at all?Someday November, you must goThen I shall dance in gleaming snowForgetful of your prankish ways,Your bitter winds and dull, dark days…Give us one day worth the livingShine on us…please…for our Thanksgiving!

* * * * *

Shadows

The shadows creep from under stones to keepTheir silent vigil with the night.The birds slow glide, their songs they hideIn softly feathered nests…they sleep.While I, wide-eyed and wakeful stillAwait your touch to move me as you will

To S. H.

With reaching arms I gather in the thunder,I ride on light that forks across the sky,I speed between the planets in my passingTo find the Star I must be guided by.For only then shall evening be as dawning,And midnight shine with iridescent hue,My dancing feet as light as feather falling,For in my Star your love comes shining through.

* * * * *

Mankind

Mankind…What does this strange word mean? …That Man is kind?

This lump of clay whose eyes are blind,This scrap of earth which must to earth return,This chattering mortal thing who will not learn,Is this mankind?

This monstrous creature who breeds lust; who hate;

Whose poisoned breath asphyxiates;Who tramples and destroys, then laughs to seeThis power he wields and claims is victory?Is this mankind?

Once, Man had need of savage strength and power

To wrest from Nature food to fill his need.His hands tore with a grip to kill, to feedHis young; to build a shelter from the storms;To fashion clothes; indeed to live at all.Yet greed was not his creed, as it is now.

Mankind…kind man…God make him kind!We need his strength…Oh, give him mind!To find the truth, to tighten slack.Proud in his strength, yet one who knowsThe hour to strike, with swift, clean blows.He must be more than this, a man who grows,With tenderness to touch a rose,Who listens when God whispers, “Please,”Who asks for guidance on his knees,A man, kind man, brave manTo lead mankind.

Grant us thy grace to seek and findSome image of Thyself in all mankind.

To One’s Offspring

Once long ago, I used to hopeWhen the children all came homeThat I could rest and hear aboutThe places where they roam.But Dick must see a girl called Joan,And Jim must take his gunTo hunt a wary woodchuck,While Janie bowls for fun.Erik had his car to wash,

With parts to buy or trade,They said, “hello,” they ate and ran,Their Dad and I…just stayed…They came in late or slept ’til noon,Then off they went once more.I washed the socks and made the beds,Dad went down to the store,We stocked up on their favorite foods,I picked up gun and clothes,Dad puttered ’round inside and out,He sorted tools and hose.We sat down to a lonely feast,Gazed at each empty chair,Then without warning…in they cameAnd all at once…they’re there!The silence flees before the din,Confusion comes to stay,But the joy they bring beats anything…Why must they go away?

* * * * *

Masks

Some masks we wear are pleasant ones,While others are quite grim,Some people often will appearQuite haughty or quite prim.Some clowns are always laughingThough their eyes are always sad…And once I knew a fellowWho pretended he was mad.It might be a better systemAnd would leave no room to doubtIf we would just forget the masksAnd turn our best side out!

For DavidGramma’s Dilemma

When I was young…and twelve years old(I was a child…or so I’m told.)But now, alas and dearie me,A child is adult when he’s three.He’s “trained” before he’s even two,At three he dresses…ties his shoe,His meals are steak…his drinks are pop;He knows each light at traffic stop.He stays up late to watch TV.He is well versed in history,Mechanics, art and mystery.He rides a horse…he packs two guns,He never toddles, he just runs.He knows the pictures in each bookAnd how each character should look.I’m Gramma nineteen-sixty-five.Bewildered you can see…I don’t take care of grandsonFor he takes care of me!

* * * * *

S.O.S.(From a college girl to her Dad)

Dear Dad…I’m Broke…(I don’t know why)I bought a cokeAnd cheese on rye,A pair of shoes, a small red hat,A dress…and lipstick,Things like that.Please send me ten…(You understand)And don’t tell Mom…Gee, Dad, you’re GRAND!

Dad’s Reply…Your purse is flat?Well…mine is flatter…But ’tis no matter…While ink can spatter

Will write a check…Lovingly…your Dad.

Destiny

Between the sword-like blades the river flowsWith scarce a ripple to reveal the placeThe long pike lies, his body half concealedBy waving cobweb strands of soft, green lace.The dragonfly with rainbow wings outspreadHovers above, uncertain in his mindIf he should rest upon the purple flowerOr travel on, a willow branch to find.Dropping too low, he skims the mirrored pool,With lightning speed the long pike leaves his

place.The widening ripples spread, he slowly sinksThe glint of rainbow wings upon his face.

* * * * *

Just a Thought

One flower is not a garden,One leaf is not a tree;But give one smile to everyoneWhat a world that would be!One blade of grass is not a field,One tiny pond, a lake,But give each person one kind heartWhat a great world that would make!One sunbeam cannot warm the earthOr one candle light the dark,A symphony cannot be madeWith one note from a lark.Perhaps all people might sing songsAnd we might live to seeThe whole world change, if each of usWould join in harmony.

* * * * *

Trees in Winter

The giants stood tall like sentinels in a row,Rigid with cold, yet far belowThe icy ground and numbed feetTheir sap ran warm, waiting for Spring to greetTheir outstretched arms, and spread the tender

greenAbout their lofty heads.A pity that they could not bend to seeThe quiet beauty of their own austerity.

The Fate of the Roving Eye

I was a gay dog in my day, The dashing kind, with roving eye.“Oh, he will marry young,” they’d say.And I’d reply, “Not I.”I’d watch my friends all take the plunge,I’d wink my roving eyeBut when they tried to tie me up,I’d say, “Oh, no, not I.”

I liked to be a single man,I liked to play the field.I’d wine and dine the glamour girlsBut never would be heeled.The tall ones and the small ones,The thin ones caught my eyeBut when they spoke of wedding bells.I whispered, “No, not I.”

One day I met a fat one.She looked at me and sighed.I shuddered…but I took herFor a Coney Island ride.In haste I said Goodbye and turned.

She called, “Come meet my mother.”“Another time,” I answered. ThenI bumped into her brother.

He towered above me, shook my hand.I felt my knees go limp.She took my arm and I was towedHome, by a pair of blimp.Needless to say, I stayed to eatAnd then I couldn’t move.I’ve had good food, but never such!They served me food on food.

First, appetizers; then the soup,With butter and with cream,Steak and mushrooms, beans and beets,Then oysters cooked in steam.Salads smothered in rich oilAnd many kinds of pie.My roving eye became transfixed,I murmured, “No, not I.”

But when I woke, as from a tranceAnd feebly tried to rise,My heartbeats seemed to telegraph“Oh, bachelor man, be wise.”

My lips were forming wordless sounds.Out came the same reply.For years those words by habit formed,Of “NO…NO…NO…NOT I!”

She stood before me and I sawMy past and present life…And endless years of future daysWith neither food nor wife.

I felt my resolutions fall.They shattered at my feet.I took her to my doubting heart.I found her Fat, but neat.Her mother smiled and brought more pie.I nibbled on the crust.

The flaky morsels formed each word;“A WOMAN YOU CAN TRUST.”

My lips had found new words at last.They hit my startled ear.“At last I’ve found my own true love!Please marry me, my dear.”My friends all laugh and kid meBut they all have envious eyes,As they pass their plates for secondsOf my fat wife’s luscious pies.

* * * * *

How Could You?

The weather has been stormy, then you caught a virus cold,The laundry too was piling up, I felt grumpy, mean, and

old.So when the sunshine did appear, I thought we’d have a

treat,I’d dress you up in Sunday-best and take you down the

street.We’d walk around the park awhile and hear a robin sing,Perhaps there’d be a flower or two to welcome in the

Spring.I combed your curls and dressed you up in navy gabardine,You were the cutest bundle I think I’d ever seen.I changed into my navy suit (things really weren’t so bad),I had the check tucked in my bag that came today from

Dad.Perhaps we’d have a shopping spree…I’d buy a toy for you,I turned around to pick you up…Oh, Ricky, how could you?Your cap was off, your curls all mussed, your navy suit was

wet,And in your mittened hand you held the pail you’d just

upset.I spanked you hard, then changed your clothes…I wiped the floor quite dry; I picked you up and cuddled

you,I had my little cry. I’d left that water in the pail…(A stupid thing to do!)…I’m sorry that I spanked so hard,

But Ricky…how could you?

For SherriDID YOU KNOW?

Did you know that seals had battles,And that some snakes carry rattles,Or that ants build cities, towns,Digging tunnels, heaping mounds?Beavers build huge dams and bridges,Cut off branches, weave in ridgesPack with mud which time will harden…(They’ve no interest in a garden)There are bugs…and bugs…and bugs…Some eat leaves and some eat rugs,Some eat flowers and some eat clothes,Love to nibble on wool hose.Some worms hide in a cocoonSome sleep and dream…then pretty soon,Come out, not a caterpillar…But a butterfly or miller!It is quite a trick to do.Wish that we might do it too.Fish are many, small and big,Some have faces like a pig,Some have saws or swords for noses…(Wonder if they could smell roses?)Some are gold and live in bowls,Some are brown and live in holes,Some swim slowly, some go swish…Let’s learn more about the fish.Birds can tell you stories too,Why do some have feathers, blue?Why do some fly high, some low,Live in swamps where cattails grow,Nest on ground or cliff top highClose to clouds which sail the sky?Some can sing and some can cry.Can you find the reason why?This must be another book…Where they live and how they look,What they eat and how they travel,If they live in bog or gravel.

Eyes like mirrors? Feet like hooks?Yes, we’ll write some other books.’Bye for now, hope you’ll beOff adventuring with me.

Influence

You thought him a failure, run down at the heel,He hadn’t the money to buy a square meal;His home was an old shack, his hair all awry,But didn’t you notice the smile in his eye?Perhaps he is shiftless and can’t read a line,But didn’t you notice his eyes, how they shine?His hands were an artists, long-fingered and slim,But a month’s coarse stubble had covered his

chin;His dark suit was threadbare, he hadn’t a tie,But his smile warmed my heart as I waved

Goodbye.Perhaps he was hungry, perhaps he was poor;Perhaps he was famous…one couldn’t be sure,But wherever I go, whatever I do,I’ll remember his smile and his eyes of clear blue.And I hope that someday, though fame pass me

bySomeone will remember the smile in my eye.

* * * * *

The City

Dragon-like the city curls around the shore,Its gleaming eyes shining in the dusk;It reaches out in all directionsWinding its stupendous tail around the blocks,Clawing its way into all the corners,Belching smoke from its black nostrils,

Roaring with gusto as its hungry mouthSwallows the masses known as humans,While high above its spiny backProgress soars into the murky sky.

* * * * *

Only Echoes Plead

The ever-near, demanding master stoodTurning your face and footsteps from my side,I begged in vain, my tears fell in the dust…Your master was your guide.And now, too late, time laughs at all my tears,Your treasures fall like dead leaves at my feet,Your hands are full…but empty is your heart,And mine has ceased to beat.The warmth of life, the sweetness of my loveWith misty wings drifts far beyond the tide,I hear your call, but only echoes plead…Time tore me from your side.

Not Today

Sorrow, sorrow, come tomorrow,Not today.

Songs are trembling in my throat now,Joyous music every note now,Sorrow, sorrow, come tomorrow,

Not today.Rhythms urge my feet a-dancing,Love is in his eyes a-glancing,Leave me, sorrow, come tomorrow,

Not today.Sunlight shines upon the river,Bird songs, love songs all a-quiver,Love has come to kiss and bless me,And to shield me and caress me,Sorrow, sorrow, come tomorrow,

Not today.

* * * * *

Life Cycle of the Canadian Wild Geese

Dark, light, Safe arrival,

Swift flight, Full survival,

Sure direction, Goslings grow,

Formed perfection, Zephyrs blow,

Keen perception, Days lengthen,

God’s protection, Wings strengthen,

Decision,Precision,Formation,Migration,Swift flight,Dark, light.

* * * * *

Elegy

Like small, sharp teeth the stars bit through the night,

The angry foam was hissing as it fell,While on the shadowed beach the deep sea thingsWere struggling for life and finding hell.Bleakness was everywhere, a barren waste,And endless scene of sand and foam and sky,The polling, thunderous sea became a dirgeTo drown the feeble cry of things which die.

Seed Corn(Inspired by the painting by Andrew Wyeth)

Through the paneless window frame

One views the distant sky,Inside on the sagging ropesThe seed corn hangs to dry.Sunlight floats in dust-flecked airWhile golden kernels sleepDreaming of another SpringAnd promise they must keep.Quietude a priceless giftA part of God’s great planFound in places such as thisTo bless the soul of man.

* * * * *

For DianeTHE ADVENTURES OF LITTLE GREEN ACORN

“I wish that I might travel,” said the acorn to the tree.“I think that other places might be better ones for me.”

“Shame on you, Little Acorn, for such a silly thought,Your family’s been here many years in this very lovely

spot.Now be content to drop right here, and soon the leaves will fallThey’ll cover you and you will grow into an oak tree tall.”

The little acorn didn’t speak, he hung there on the tree,But in his mind he had a plan…a daring plan had he.He saw a big and shining car below him, and he said,“If I can jump I’ll land on that and ride away instead.”

He knew this was a dangerous thing, for jumping he might land

Not on the car but on the ground and ruin all his plan.He thought about it all day long…and dreamed about it

too,When morning came he really felt it was the thing to do.

He made sure his cap was on…he’d need it on the trip,He’d no idea how far he’d go…he knew Jack Frost could

nip.He took a long look down below, he knew he must not slip,

He’d try to fall up near the glass and land upon the clip.

He pulled away from the oak tree…“Don’t move, please, big, white car,

I really want to ride with you to places strange and far.”

The big car didn’t hear him, it roared and moved away,But acorn fell right on that clip…this was his lucky day.So now he’s perched quite safely, up front where he may

lookTo gather more adventures for his big adventure book.

I never read this particular poem until I was in my thirty’s and the most amazing aspect of this poem’s content is that my grandmother penned it when I was only twelve and my cousin Ricky, eleven. At age twelve I was very short and slight of

build, with my mother and father both being an adult height of 5’ 7”, yet here my grandmother predicts me to be a height of six feet tall, which is exactly what I’ve

ended up being. I also studied architectural drafting in high school and continue to design dwellings as a hobby. As for my “being wise,” my intelligence quotient (I.Q.)

test rankings placed me in the 140+% range. It’s always fascinated me as to just how accurate her poem’s “predictions” have ended up being.

* * * * *

To David and RickyTHE TEST

For a few short yearsYou’ll play with toys,You will learn to jump and run,You’ll ride a bike,You’ll catch some fish,You’ll tote a cowboy gun.Later…learn of blueprintsFor ship or house or car,You’ll make “sheep’s eyes”At some nice girl,And borrow Dad’s new car.Later…one day you’llWake to findYou’re not a boy at all…But quite grown up,And from six feetYour Mom looks pretty small.

Now is the timeThe real test comes,You may be big in size…But can you match your brains as wellWith mortals half as wise?And have you trainedYour hands with skill?Your heart to understand?Your lips to speak with gentleness?To live as you had planned?For after life has added upThe years you’ve left behindYou’ll find some folks…(I hope not you)Have been both deaf and blind.You’ll find the worldHas little useFor wealth or jet-powered carThe test the world will judge you byIs the kind of Man you are!

GAnother Selection of

Original Poems

Authored by:

David H.V.H. Meisburger

* * * * *

This section includes a variety of poems from my personal collection that I penned as I aged. I continue to honestly admit that, in my humble opinion anyway, these poems continue to lack the overall polished effect of an experienced, professional writer of poetry and prose. However, as a result of that, their authenticity is easily visible to the eye in both content and form alike. As before, each of these selections, as written and presented to you here, are just as plain-spoken on the surface as below, for none of these poems contain any hidden meanings. As always, my hope is that one or more of them bring you at least a small smile…please enjoy!

A Dream

You stand upon a beach of sandwith grains between your toes.

You walk along a tide pool,within it grows a

rose.

You shake your head in wonderand go merrily on your way.

With no one 'round you hear a voice,

"Don't step on me today!"

You look down and see a starfish.You know that it can't talk.

Yet there it lies upon the sand

in the middle of your walk.

You curtsy, in a pleasing wayand say, "Apologies.

I'll tread not there upon you,

but I'd rather you’d asked, 'Please!'"

The starfish wiggles one small arm,as if to seem to say,

"Apology accepted,please, continue on

your way."

You nod and smile, step 'round and go,'til you come upon a seal.

It rolls its' eyes and turns to you

and asks you, "What is real?"

"Do you know of talking starfish?“Had conversations with a seal?

“Seen a rose grow in a tide pool?"

"Well, yes, so is that real?"

You hear a noise, a growing buzz.Things are not what they have

seemed.You shut off your alarm

clock.It's been nothing

but a dream.Air

You stand alone there with me,Not knowing I am there.

I’m taken forever granted,

Yet you feel me in your hair.

The sun shines down upon you,The waves stretch out for miles.

The sun is glowing, radiant.You tilt your head and

smile.

The wind gusts and turns me,I gaze across your face.

There is a God and he knowsThere’s not a nicer place.

He’s brought you out here to me,Created this best of days.

See I’m created also,In the manner of His

ways.

Your muscles now have loosened,Your tension’s flown away.

The relaxation that you’re feeling,

You wish would always stay.

I’ll take the credit for that touch,I’ve caressed you for a while.

I’ve come a long, long way.I’ve even known you as a

child.

The sun descends, it’s time you leave.Your eyes, they blink and stray.

Ahhhhh, now they’ve finally focused,

Yet they cannot turn my way.

You stand alone there with me,Not knowing I am there.

Just how or why can that be?Sigh…I’m nothing but the

air.

Inner Thoughts

The color of your eyes…The shine that’s in your hair…

The way you smile back at me…

I want to take your hand…

I want to hold you close…

I want to be with you alone…

It’s written on your face…It’s there within your touch…

It’s taken an eternity…

I want to touch your face…

I want to kiss your lips…

I want to leave and take you home…

This dance is almost done…This closeness that I feel…

This is how it’s supposed to be…

You want to take my hand…

You want to hold me close…

You want to be with me alone…

The morning now has come…The club’s about to close…

The time we’ve spent means much to me…

You want to touch my face…

You want to kiss my lips…

You want to leave and take me home…

The drinks are now all gone…The lights are now turned bright…

The door clicks shut when we leave…

We don’t want to say “Goodnight.”

Blackjack Lament

I’ve sat here now for hours,my chips are growing thin.

The dealer’s cards look lousy,this hand I’ll surely win.

I’m sitting with eleven,I go and “double-down.”

She deals me up an ace,I sit there with a frown.

It’s now up to the dealer,MY cards are very set.

I sit here wond’ring whyall my chips are bet.

She turns o’er a seven,to go with her card of four.

I shake my head in wonder,she moves to take one

more.

She only needs to take one card,if so, this hand is done.

’Cause it will take two or more,to bust her so I’ve won.

Just one, or more, it’s happening.But, YOU decide this close…

for this poem I am ending.Did I win, or did I lose?

* * * * *

Andrea

We’re only friends and neighbors.You live across the street.

We wave and greet each otherAlmost daily when we meet.

We date and ski and laugh a lot,But still we’re only friends.

No shared kiss or holding hands,And our smiles never end.

I proudly served for eight years in the United States Army, all as a member of the 82nd Airborne Division, during the time spanning August 1973 until August 1981. I began as an infantryman and conducted fifty-three parachute jumps during the

course of my stateside training and active service time. While I never participated in active combat, I did lose friends in myriad combat missions where they voluntarily

paid the ultimate price protecting our blessed country. I’ve written this poem in remembrance of all the members of our military and other public forces that have

dedicated and sacrificed their lives in the service of protecting our country’s citizens and their constitutionally-guaranteed personal freedoms.

* * * * *

Soldiers

You stand there with courage.You stand there with pride.

You stand there while knowingothers go, run, and hide.

You stand for our freedom.You would give your own life.

Your ancestors have battled,guided by drum and by

fife.

For this is our countryyou willingly defend.

You are one of the bravethat will be there at the

end.

I have been right there with you.I have dropped from the sky.

I have nodded at strangersas I have passed by.

The challenge is yours now,I know you won’t fail.

Your training’s superb.You are strong, lean and

hale.

You stand there with courage.You stand there with pride.

You stand there protecting.I am no longer…I’ve died.

Tears

The days grow ever shorter ’til we’re back in each other’s arms…The where, the when, the why, the how, don’t matter, it’s your

charms.

The way you laugh, your touch, your smile, the softness of your hair…Every moment we’re apart, don’t matter ’cause I’m there.

The sparkling twinkle in your eyes, the way you pose and gaze…Every time I miss your voice, don’t matter, ’cause I’m dazed.

My heart was crushed and trampled flat, my touch then had no feel…But even that don’t matter now ’cause Wedding Bells will peal.

We’ll be joined with vows, we’ll join our souls, we’ll agen and grow old…So missing you won’t matter none, when you’re in my arms to

hold.

We’ll live our life with Joy and Love…we’ll cherish every day…Every time I take a breath, I feel like I should pray.

Is it fate, was it preordained, how has this come to be?Why has everlasting Love changed You and I to “WE?”

It matters not, no not one bit, ’cause chosen we have been…I chose you, you chose me, we’ve forgiven every sin.

Each time we wake, we’ll be right there, our bodies joined as one…We’ll eat, we’ll work, we’ll even play ’til each day’s finally done.

We’ll cherish every moment, and not just those in life…We may shed tears of joy, we may shed tears of strife.

But through it all we’ll still have Love, we know that it will be…Come death our everlasting Love will find us still as “WE.”

Romeo found Juliet, Shrek has his Fiona, I’ve a stunning Sommer…Come what may there’s never been a deeper Love, for ours is like

no other.

So take my hand, as I’ll take yours, we’re going on a journey…We’ll cross the miles to our new home, and please don’t ever

worry.

My hair is blond, my eyes are blue, my heart is yours forever…I promise that we’ll Laugh and Love and always be together.

You are my life…You are my Love…You’re my reason for simply being…That’s why when tears shall course my cheeks, relax…it’s Love’s

ecstasy you’re seeing!

The Racer

You stand poised, waitingat the top of the hill.

You concentrate harder,while standing real still.

You gaze down atthe top of the run

that soon you areto be racing upon.

The starter shouts, “READY!”You slip back and forth.

He opens the gateand you shove all you’re

worth.

You hurtle down fasterand tuck even more.

In order to winYOU must have the best

score.

Into the first turn and onto the straight.

Your skiing is perfect,the conditions are great.

You’re into the last turnand going for broke.

The crowd starts to ROAR,and that’s all she wrote.

You’ve set a new record.You take off your skis.

You unbuckle your boots.

You fall to your knees.

The crowd rushes to you.You’re swept off your feet.

The sweet taste of victory'sbetter’n defeat.

Now at your side’syour best friend and your girl.

You wouldn’t trade thisfor all of the world.

One day you’ll be backto do it once more.

But for now you’re contentwith the Cup to adore!

* * * * *

Your Pet

Sometimes I’m your puppy, I may even be your cat.But whatever form I’m taking, I’m liking where I’m at.

You stroke my fur, you scratch my ears, you feed me every day.Your clean me, bathe me, care for me and we even get to play.

I’m there for you when you feel sad and will lick your tears away.I jump with joy when your spirits soar ’cause everything’s okay.

I love it when you kiss my nose and you lay with me for hours.I cuddle close, you hug me tight and we fall asleep in flowers.

Flowers? Where did they come from? They suddenly appeared.When they came you laughed and smiled and told me they were dear.

I could tell that you were happy, ’cause you hugged me very tight.You told me how you fell in love and dream of him at night.

I’m always here, I’m waiting now, I’ll greet you as I can.

I’ll share myself with you and with whomever is this “Man.”

Stroke my fur and scratch my ears, I’ll soon fall fast asleep.I’m your pet, I’m happy now and you’re in Love so deep.

I’m dreaming now of happy days and walking in the sun.You and hubby are holding hands and of having lots of fun.

We picnic out, then head for home, I want to see my room.You decorate it every day, you even clean it with a broom.

You’ve worn me out, I need my rest, so give me a few hours.Enjoy your Love with hubby, he’s showed up again with flowers.

* * * * *

Escape

The clamor of a crowd, the roar of jet or car,Can set my mind on edge and make me wander far.I love the peacefulness of woods and clouds and sky,

The trilling of a streamlet as I wander passing by,Or ocean waves, with their endless flowing tides.

All those and silence sooth my soul, where happiness abides.When I first penned this poem I sat back, read and re-read it several times, and

something kept calling to me about it. Eventually I came to realize that it could be reconstructed, utilizing the exact same wording, into another dramatically different

poetic format, so the following two poems are the result of my inspirationally creative efforts along that vein.

Therefore, please read both, feel free to compare them, and then message me of which style you prefer the most.

* * * * *

My…Your…Our…(Separated Version)

My thought…turned whisper…My smile…turned kiss…

My heart…full of love…My life…full of bliss…

Your thought…turned poem…Your smile…turned song…

Your heart…ever tender…

Your life…ever long…

Our thoughts…together…

Our smiles…there to see…

Our hearts…turned one…

Our life…meant to be…

My arms…missing you…My legs…long for yours…

My breathing…ever longing…My body…how it soars…

Your arms…missing me…Your legs…long for mine…

Your breathing…ever sweet…

Your body…how it shines…

Our arms…in embrace…Our legs…

intertwined…Our

breathing…ever quickens…

Our bodies…locked in time…

My…Your…Our…(Combined Version)

My thought…turned whisper…Your thought…turned poem….

Our thoughts…together…

My smile…turned kiss…Your smile…turned song…

Our smiles…there to see…

My heart…full of love…Your heart…ever tender…

Our hearts…turned one…

My life…full of bliss…Your life…ever long…

Our life…meant to be…

My arms…missing you…Your arms…missing me…

Our arms…in embrace…

My legs…long for yours…Your legs…long for mine…

Our legs…intertwined…

My breathing…ever longing…Your breathing…ever sweet…

Our breathing…ever quickens…

My body…how it soars…Your body…how it shines…

Our bodies…locked in time…

The Gift

Christmastime’s for carolingand playing in the snow.

To be with friends and family.To feel your heart aglow.

The presents you’ll be givingwere chosen with due care.

There’s Toys and Games and Clothes,

and even Christmas Bears.

The wrapping’s done…ribbon’s too,They’re underneath the tree.

Ah, but look, what is this?

There’s even one for me!

You hear a sound, turn ’round and lookand, much to your surprise,

it’s Santa there as large as life,with bright and shining

eyes.

He nods his head and says aloud,“One present’s there for you.

I’ve searched the whole world over,

that very one will do.”

With another nod, he disappears.WOW…was he really there?

Yes, the present reads, “From Santa-

With all my Love & Care.”

Christmas dawns, your friends arriveand then your family too.

The gifts are opened, all but one,Santa’s Gift to you.

You hold the box within your hands,everyone gathers ’round.

The ribbon’s off, the wrapping too,

and no one makes a sound.

The box is opened, and you sigh,It’s just the perfect gift.

You Toast the World, God’s newborn Son,

and your spirits seem to lift.

This day, this gift, forevermore,shall stay locked within your mind.

These thoughts shall bring you constant joy…

the everlasting kind!

* * * * *

To My Family

People come, and people go,each one is very special though.

The way they fit into your life,some help you out, others cause you

strife.

But when you leave, there’s something gone,but always life goes on.

In these few short words I mean to sayis that in my own, very special way…

I miss you all, both now, and then,when yet I come, to leave again.

* * * * *

Evolution of the Mailbox and Phone

I get filled with letters, cards and bills,Surveys, ballots, and tons of frills.

Whether snow, or sleet, or heat, or sun,Weeks of work, or days of fun

I stay right here, standing guardAt property edge and curbside yard.

Time has passed and my importance too.

The postman’s visits become very few.Now your e-mail box is messaged full,

While I stand awaiting you, my lid to pull.

I’m black and have one piece you hold to ear,While to the wall you’re speaking loud and clear.

A brand new form’s upon your wall,The handset’s one piece and does it all.

Another evolution’s at your bedside,It comes in colors, like pink princess-bride.

I’ve now turned wireless and can go with youIn car or purse and I’m smaller too!

No longer am I just your phone,You can tweet and snap, or just call home.

For My DaughterMARKI

She’s such a golden child,who is ruled by emotion…

she loves to have fun,and would live near the

ocean…

Her guidance is strong,with intelligence and grace…

she’s a natural born leaderwho sets the tone and

the pace…

Blue’s her favorite color,and it’s there in her eyes…

which flash full of angerat deception and lies…

Most often her feelingsare out in the open…

she’ll love you, then leave you,’cause her hearts easily

broken…

I have seen her so happythat she’s outshone the sun,

the smile on her faceis second to none…

I’ve seen her lost in deep thought,and I’ve seen her deep caring,

for such ponderous thingsas the clothes she’ll be

wearing…

Her laughter comes quick,but her anger does too…

she can hug you and kiss you,or cut you verb’lly in

two…

But for all of these qualitiesand all of these traits,

there’s no doubt at allshe’ll be one of the

greats…

But how can this be,just how can I know

of the goodness and greatnessinto which she will

grow…

You see, I know her, and love her,through the good and the bad…

I am ever her father,she still lovingly calls

Dad.

For My SonWILL

Will is the strong one,you can’t tell by his size…

but if you look ever closer,it’s there in his eyes…

He will play with abandon,and know little fear…

it seems he grows bolderwith each passing year…

Broken bones are no problem,he knows they will knit…

and though he is wiry,he’s very physically fit…

At school he’s a natural,He’s a leader of one…

he can give you the answer’fore the question is

done…

At sports he is willingto stay in his place…

but he wants to take over,it’s there on his face…

He’s diplomatic and fair,and most often he’s kind…

he will make his decisionAFTER you’ve spoken

your mind…

When he’s happy, the worldknows no greater joy…

his eyes glow and sparkle,like a shiny new toy…

He sometimes will dream,but he always will plan…

his future’s wide open,he’ll be quite the man…

Will he travel the country?Will he stay in one place?

Will he remain on this planet?Or will he journey

through space?

Whatever he chooses,wherever he goes…

he’s my son, and I love him,in life and in prose.

Your Guardian Angel

In the mirror is your reflection…if you’re looking close you’ll see…

look there, just past your shoulder…

that image there is me…

I’m always right there with you…it only takes your thought…

I’ll be there when I’m needed…I’ll be there when I’m

not…

I am your Guardian Angel…but in a different way…

see it’s totally your choice…

if I go or I should stay…

I’ll hold your hand, I’ll walk with you…I’ll stay and talk all day…

as your life meanders ’round…your heart will know the

way…

I am your Guardian Angel…I bring you happiness and hope…

I bring you joy and laughter…I’ll find you ways to

cope…

Just remember that I’m always there…whenever you’re in need…

I’ll be your friend, or even more…but be there, yes

indeed…

No matter what you say or do…however far you roam…

I’m always there, right where you are…

with me you’re ALWAYS home…

Now in a moment close your eyes…I’ve one last thought to send…

I am your Guardian Angel…and I’ll be there ’til the

end…

Reflections

Once upon a time is a great way to start…Beginning with true love growing in your heart…

Fairy tales wander, but always there is hope…The reality of life makes us all have to cope…

The prince gains a princess, the princess a ring…Yet often in real life, it’s not a sure thing…

To live happily ever after is always the dream…

But not all realities are what they seem…

Once upon a time is a great way to start…Beginning with true love growing in your heart…

Love makes us strong, yet love makes us blind…Do our feelings of the heart reach up into our mind?

With age comes wisdom, or so we are told…Instead it brings reflections of memories

we hold…

Memories contain our moments with lovers…

Yet is it all truth that’s under our covers?

Once upon a time is a great way to start…Beginning with true love growing in your heart…

Our reflections can alter and change over time…Especially when reality awakens our mind…

Discovery of truth can lead to regret…As long as there’s life, hope is there yet…

Right any wrongs and change what you can…

Mistakes made in living are proponents of man…

Once upon a time is a great way to start…Beginning with true love growing in your heart…

G

A Selection of Poems & Idylls

I’ve chosen from:

Wings on the Wind1st Printing 1976 – Dorrance & Company, Pennsylvania

Authored by my Grandmother:

Margaret Symons Taber

* * * * *

Presented for you here by way of my loving tribute to her illustrious memory.

To My Children

Try to remember me as not too oldTo join you in your lives when bad or good.Try to remember that I always wouldBe loving you with happy pride.Try to remember me as tall---not bent by years---And always smiling, even through the tearsThat sometimes fall.Grey hair piled high---and not too dull of eye---With fingers long and strong, yet always tender.Clever enough to render some useful things.Try to remember as the wrinkles grewThey held some twinkles too, of memoried smiles.Try to remember me as never being farFrom where you are---or were, or will be---any

time,For I’ll remember youIn all I think or say or do.Forever and forever thereWithin my heart a silent prayerThat you’ll remember me with loveAs I’ll remember you.

* * * * *

The Ice Storm

The branches black, in the cold, windy night,Were magically changed to webs of light.For, while we slept, the rain and frost worked longAnd everything was shimmering by dawn.

A million rainbows meet my wondering eyes,While golden sunshine filters misty skies.Can any man who sees this work of GodBelieve that mortal’s fate is dusty sod?

* * * * *

Days

Each day you live you have a chanceTo prove what you can do.How dreadful when you are awareThere is no more of you!Your credit has gone up in smoke;Someone has clipped your wings.With sudden jolt you learn the truth:Your days are precious things!

Fonsie

My gray dog whose name is FonsieRushes out to greet each morningSnuffing, wandering and exploringIn his jungle, in my garden.Silently he stalks his bug-prey,Ever watchful for a cat grey.Then without a hint of warningScatters flocks of birds who gatherRound the pathways where they lather,Preening all their fluffy feathersWith soft, dusty sand and gravel.Just before their wild ablutionsIn the birdbaths or the fountain.When he has performed his mischief,He returns to gaze in earnestThrough the nose-smudged glass of

doorway.Then I feel his eyes burn through meAs I munch my meager breakfast.Guiltily I try to swallowBut my conscience wins the battleAnd I lay aside his portion,Knowing faith must be rewarded.After all, I am his godheadAnd must be beyond reproval.For who else can understand me

When misfortune dares to taunt me?Soft brown eyes and furry paw-padsSeem to touch with mystic healingSomething in my inner being,Lending strength that is enduring.For his faith in me as mortalUnbelievers, you may chortle,Scoff and jeer me if you will---I believe there is a magicGiven animals beloved.So this grey, wooly fluffballI owe much and pay homage.We are more than dog and master,Friends both now and ever after,For to me he’s dogdom’s kingAnd to him I’m everything!

October

The hazy days of autumnAre filled with rustling sound.The brown leaves look like pixie folk,Dancing round and round.The crickets chirp a cheery song;The nights are chill and clear;A quietness is in the day;The dark blue nights are here.The pumpkins ripen in the corn;The apples hang like jewels.The painted leaves are drifting downIn woodsy forest pools.The wild geese fly a southern route,While hunters oil each gun.The nuts are filled with luscious meatTo munch when day is done.

The golden banks are borderingThe highways everywhere.These crisp fall days are filled with wine.October is in the air!

* * * * *

Reward

The shimmering down of the milkweed flowerHad waited so long for this quiet hour.She sailed on high, by a soft breeze whirled,And she found herself in a strange new world;No longer crowded in gray-green pod,She drifted in light toward the throne of God.But warmth reclaimed her as she passed by,And she slowly sank with a sobbing cry.Mother Nature watched as she fell to earthAnd tenderly gave her the gift of birth.When autumn again kissed a gray-green pod,Her children were borne toward the throne of

God.As the evening came with the setting sunShe was lulled to sleep by the words, “Well done!”On waking, she found she had wings of white.She had come at last to God’s world of light.

Invocation

God, give us eyes that we may seeThe wonders of our world.Appreciate the fragrant heartThat lies in petals curled.The warmth of sun,The cool, fresh rain,

The rose-lined clouds of gray,The blessing of the restful nights,The glory of the day.Give us, our God, the tender touchSo fragile things may know.We see, we feel, we understandHow such small things can growFor only if we’ve power to liftThe veil which blinds our eyesCan we perceive and comprehendThe love beyond the skies.And when we’ve found that blessed loveMay we have wisdom, too,To share it with the ones we meetAnd bring them close to You.For life can be a wondrous thing,The world new joy impartWhen You have given us new eyesAnd touched our human heart.

* * * * *

Willows in the Rain

Willows in the hands of April,Rain-lashed, bending to the ground,Murmuring, with swishing cadence,As she shakes your leaves around.

When the dawn comes, she will vanish,You will lift your branches high,Every leaf bejeweled and glistening,As you sway beneath the sky.

And, to lend you charm unequaled,Blackbirds fly with scarlet wingIn among your emerald branchesHeralding the joy of spring!

Egotism

I cast aside a chance to help a man.I thought him undeserving;He could work as well as I and pay his debts.Sweep clean his little world,As I swept mine.I turned my head, lest I should meet with smilesI did not want to see.Why should they smile at me?I was no friend.I shut the door before they turned my way---A noisy crowd, and gay.I wished for solitudeAnd time to think aboutSome great philosophies or on my kneesTo whisper prayers.I knelt alone, self-satisfied, with pride.I called on God to bless my life.Sometimes it almost seemed to meThat God had turned aside.While those I had refused to seeLooked on, not angrily,But pitying me!I wanted very much to cry,But no tears came…I wonder why.

* * * * *

Fame

I must be great, so men will sayMy name with awe and honor me!I must be rich, so I may buildA mansion on the highest hill!Then all men passing by will gazeAnd wistfully they’ll spend their daysIn walking by, hoping to seeOne glimpse of me!I thought it was dream come true---My wealth and house upon the hill,The crowds adoring as they pass.

Some even dare to touch the grassOr pick a flower down by the gate,Boasting they stole it from the great!How they would laugh, if they could seeThe great and glamorous little me,Forever gazing longingly.While wishing that a trick of fateHad never made me great!

Yesterday

Yesterday, you were there,In your old chair,Smiling at some antic of the cat.I sat across from you(I always do)And I smiled too.Feeling the closeness thatForty-odd years must bring.But that was yesterday.The cat will play,The days and weeks pass by.And I, my very dear,Shall smile rememberingEach blessed yearWhen we were hereTogether, you and I.Just yesterday.

* * * * *

My Garden

Roses of soft orange hue Nod in gentle breeze,Spilling petal fragrance Over wings of bees.Fuchsias with their fairy bells Sway with dancers’ grace;Fence posts try their best to peek Through green cobweb lace.Hummingbirds dart back and forth

From the passion vine,Vying with the butterflies For the nectar wine.Quiet as unbroken dawn In the hand of God,Fallen blossoms decorate Brownness of the sod.

* * * * *

Perhaps

Perhaps my ears are yet untunedTo know, to hear.To understand the breath of wings,The stirring of a heart before it sings.Perhaps…I’m still too young.

Missing You

The white moth flies in cooling dusk;Yet at his touch rose petals fall.The snails begin their nightly round,And lapping waves hear sea gulls call.I know that God His watch will keep,And yet I cannot go to sleep---Missing you!

* * * * *

Twelve Hours Ago

Twelve hours ago, as silently as ghosts,We crushed this grassy turf with iron shod boots.Two hundred men---broad, tall and young---Had followed me.Fear held in check by needing to be brave.Twelve hours ago---so short a time to live,So long to die.You ask, “What did we save?”Green acres where some men had grownTheir meager food.

Strategic fort with ammo for our foes,Or just a hill, one of a thousand hillsReflecting sunset glows,Now blood-drenched with our brave…We, the scattered few, escaped,Will have to tell, remembering every grave.But can we ever be tall, young and free,The lads our mothers lovedWhile watching small boys grow?Can anyone erase…twelve hours ago?

* * * * *

Opportunity

This day is mine, to love, to live,To smile at someone and be kind.I’ll take it, for with care I mayLeave happy memories behind!

Someday someone will pass this way…May they remember with a smileA moment sweet or kindness doneBecause I walked this way a while.

Illusion

Oh, young and ardent man, be wiseAnd see with clear, unclouded eyes.The Miss you judge to be so fairMay be brunette, with bright bleached hair.And if your heart throbs when you thinkMiss Raven-tress has caught your wink,Hold fast your heart until you findHer beauty is the natural kind.For science works both night and dayTo lead poor, smitten men astray.So if you would be safe, beware!And if you’re brave enough to dareTo give her diamond solitaire…

Let her be brave enough to shareThe true shade of her shining hair!

* * * * *

Twilight Ecstasy

Banana trees, windblown in twilight air,Hold their long leaves against the turquoise skyWhere tumbled clouds are tinted by a sunWho bids this day a colorful “Goodbye”---Orchid and gold, with rose and pink which blendWith wings of doves wheeling in patterned flight.The moment God created is not lost,For memory has etched it in my sight.Tomorrow I shall paint it on a cardTo send afar, wherever you may be,That we may share this bit of beauty bornAnd know the joy of twilight ecstasy.

* * * * *

Sedges

Lovely and abandoned, sedges cannot singUnless they’re set in motion by a passing wing.Wind might stir their tawny stalks and create a

sigh,But I hear a melody as I’m passing by!Fact or fantasy or dream, I feel the pulse of spring.I, for one, am quite convinced---sedges really sing!

Most Difficult of All

It really was quite difficultTo learn to walk and talk,Mimicking the older ones

When they spoke a lot,Twisting tongue around each word,Expressing every thought.It must have been quite difficultTo learn to be mature---To do the dos, avoid the don’tsAnd learn how to endureThe things grownups had to doIn order to be rightAbout opinions, pros and cons,Without a verbal fight,Transferring to maturityWith wisdom and with tactWhile trying to be courteousSans putting on an act.It really was quite difficultTo see the years whirl by,To keep one’s equilibriumBut apparently not try.It all is very difficultBut somehow well worth whileIf one will turn one’s lip tips upInto a charming smile.I think most difficult of allIs when one’s seventy,Looking in a mirror,To grow old gracefully!

* * * * *

The Harvest

The melody fell softly on my ears,The golden bells were swaying in the breeze,The laughter of small children echoed near,While birds wove patterned notes high in the

trees.

My heart made harvest of the singing soundsTo be a treasure house for future years;When dark times came, I gathered each one inAnd saw a singing rainbow through my tears.

To My Children

I leave this world to you,With all its songs and joy,The sun, the stars, the flowers,The birds that fly in graceful curvesAgainst a turquoise sky.But I leave too a worldWhere greed seems gain---a horror worldOf hate and twisting pain.Where laughter lies in shattered strands of red,In broken dreams held by the newly dead.This is your world!You cannot rule it all.But in your part of itA corner, oh, so small,Create a place of beautyWhere it may reign supremeTo learn the joy of livingAnd all that love can mean.Help where there’s need of help and then be kind;Always try to understand the other person’s mind.Give when there’s need to give and try to seeThe future of your gift, so it may beA blessing and a joy, for you and me.For only by these signs we mothers knowOur rosary of love has power to grow.I leave this world to you,Knowing God will blessThe seeds of love I’ve sownFor well-earned happiness.

Your devoted and proud mother---always

MST

GMy Final Selection of Two Unrecorded Song

Lyrics & One Final Poem

Authored by:

David H.V.H. Meisburger

* * * * *

The two songs I’m providing you lyrics for have never been put to music, but that hasn’t precluded me from naming a song genre and potential recording artist that I feel they’d be best suited to be performed in/by. This final section shall conclude with a final poem from my personal collection, which I wrote specifically for my son, Will. Upon my separation and eventual divorce from my wife of roughly twenty years, who was relocated, along with my Daughter and Son, from Mobile, Alabama, to Medford, Oregon, by my Father, I discovered that Will had strayed from the “straight and narrow” path I’d helped guide him along throughout his entire lifetime prior to his relocation. Like any father would be, I was very dismayed to hear of his digression and I debated with myself as to the best way to get a message across to him that wouldn’t serve to alienate him. This poem ended up being my chosen manner of getting my message across to him in a not-so-subtle, non-threatening way. Unlike any other poem I’ve ever penned, this one IS riddled with multiple hidden meanings that can be easily interpreted by someone looking for them, which was always my intention. On the other hand, for posterity purposes, I’ve taken the time to pen my true meanings for your edification in a post-script I’ve included, which immediately follows his poem. As always, my hope is that one or more of my next inclusions bring you at least a small smile…enjoy!

I have no idea why these lyrics popped into my dozing mind, however, they, literally, came to me in a dream and were vivid enough to cause me to jump out of bed and

jot them down. Details and video references were added after my reawakening.

* * * * *

JULIALyrics written by Dave Meisburger - 5/16/15

To be performed by a Male, Country Recording Artist - (Blake Shelton?)

* * * * *

Solo guitar musical intro…

Initial video intro cut – The camera angle is from behind me, shooting me entering a country bar…in the far background a cute female bartender spots my entrance…I lean against the bar and we exchange glances…I look puzzled because as I take in her appearance she looks very familiar to me…video cut morphs to her acting openly flirtatious towards me as she approaches my location from the far end of the bar…

Next video cut – That same bartender slides a beer coaster in front of me, takes my order and turns to fill it, all while teasingly and provocatively smiling and winking…vocals begin…video cut morphs to two toddlers, one male, one female playing and laughing…

Your hair reminds me of Julia,Your eyes reminds me of Julia, Your face reminds me of Julia,T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – Bartender brings me my drink, and upon hearing me whisperingly vocalize the words of the first verse of this song in her direction, her face immediately reflects shock and hurt…the camera pans around to stay in front of her as she abruptly turns away, stalking off with tears in her eyes…video cut morphs to two teens in a park, the girl swinging and laughing, the guy laughing pushing her ever higher…

She turns away with hurt, angry eyes,Her hearts so broken she almost cries,

T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – Starts at my face as I gaze dazedly down at my left hand, the camera scans down from my face to zoom in on my left hand’s ring finger to show I’m not wearing a wedding band…video cut morphs to a girl and guy graduates in gowns and mortarboards, the graduation background scene is generic…the guy drops to one knee flourishing an open ring box, proposing…

Wonder what happened to my wedding band,

I stare down looking at my bare left hand,T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – The female bartender comes back, rudely slams my beverage bill down in front of me, then pauses as she spots my dazed facial expression…she lingers in front of me exhibiting a facial frown and alters her body language to project an expression of her growing concern…video cut morphs to the girl’s and guy’s wedding day ceremony and first lingering kiss as bride and groom…

She brings my bill and then lays it down,I can’t help notice her angry frown,T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – I pull my wallet from my back pocket, remove and unfold a picture…video cut morphs to the wife driving her car while holding and talking animatedly on a cell phone, then driving right through a stop sign at a brightly-sunlit intersection, where an 18-wheeler slams into her driver’s side door, crushing her compact car into a fiery, smoking wreck…

I pull my wallet from outta my jeans,The pictures all folded with lots of seams,T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – I hold the picture out to the bartender…she’s stunned to see a face that could be her twin…video cut morphs to graveyard funeral, guy looking down, holding a rose in his hand, at his wife’s body laid out in a raised-lid coffin…video cut pans into a close-up of her wedding dress clad body, hands clasping a replica of her wedding bouquet, her composed and youthful face pale, yet serene…

I say she’s been dead for many years,

She sees her face and bursts into tears,T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – Bartender still staring down at picture in her right hand, then back up to me, then back to picture, understanding dawning on her face…video cut morphs to separate facial images of bartender and Julia shown side-by-side, then merging together as one…

Your hair reminds me of Julia,Your eyes reminds me of Julia,Your hair reminds me of Julia,T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – I stand up, put a $20 bill on the bar and slide it to her with my left hand…she takes my left hand up in hers, gently circling and caressing the ringless space on my left hand’s ring finger…video cut morphs to a cameo of only myself and bartender…the bar interior background fades out of sight leaving only a gray background-shadowed cameo…

I stand up slowly and she takes my hand,She rubs my finger, there’s no wedding

band, T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – Still holding my left hand with hers, with her right hand she slides the picture back toward me and stares compassionately into my eyes, I gently withdraw my hand from hers…video cut morphs once again to the merged images of the wife and the bartender, which slowly separate, fading out the wife’s facial image, leaving only the bartender’s face…

Your hair reminds me of Julia,Your eyes reminds me of Julia, Your face reminds me of Julia, T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – I pick up the picture and fold it back up, to hold it in my right hand…when I finish doing that the bartender impulsively grabs up my left hand with hers again…video cut morphs into a scene of the bartender and I grinning at each other holding and swinging hands as we walk along a sunlit path in a park…video cut morphs to the two of us then leaning towards each other over a candlelit dinner

table…video cut morphs once again to the two of us embracing under a clear, starry sky and gazing upwards at a full moon…

I fold the picture to put away,She asks me then if I’d like to stay, T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – Bartender with tears in her eyes clings frantically to my left hand with hers, visibly beseeching me to see her for herself…video cut morphs to the bartender, tears streaming from her eyes, slowly shaking her head no, our images draw apart and hers fades away…

You can’t compare me to Julia,I can’t live up to your Julia,T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – Bartender standing in front of me with tears visibly running down her cheeks…video cut morphs to me staring down at her left hand in my left hand, tight focus showing no rings for either of us…

I shake my head ’cause I know she’s right,There’s just no way I can stay the night, T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – Me shaking my head no, releasing the bartender’s hand, she remains frozen in front of me with tears streaming down her cheeks…video cut morphs to behind her as she watches me walk away from her still frozen in place behind the bar…video follows my exit through the bar, into the parking lot, and opening the driver’s door of my midnight blue Mustang GT…

I drop her hand and I leave the bar,I walk away to my waiting car,T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – Me sitting in my car, my head resting on my hands which are placed together, clutching the top of the steering wheel…video cut morphs to repeating Julia and I as toddler images…video cut morphs into us during our previous teen images…

Her hair reminds me of Julia,Her eyes reminds me of Julia, Her face reminds me of Julia, T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Next video cut – The video images continue to morph from our teen images, into our graduation images, then into our wedding images…video cut continues to morph into our wedding’s first kiss close-up, then into a close-up showing only a glowing smile on Julia’s face, followed by an upwardly panned transformation into a star-filled sky with a full moon, which fades to black…

Her hair reminds me of Julia,Her eyes reminds me of Julia, Her face reminds me of Julia, T-o-n-i-g-h-t…T-o-n-i-g-h-t…

Final video cut - Music and vocal refrain continues to repeat, gradually becoming total silence as fade to black completes…

These song lyrics, as with my previous one, also came to me in a dream and have still never been put to music, however, even though my video imagery for this song

isn’t yet completed, I do have an idea of who I’d love to have perform this song…

* * * * *

WHEN IT COMES TO LOVE (MAKE MY HEART DANCE)Lyrics written by Dave Meisburger - 6/11/15

To be performed by a Female Country Recording Artist – (Sydney Sierota of Echosmith?)

Musical intro . . .

Video intro cut –

When it comes to loveStart with holding my hand…I know, it’s slow…but that’s how it goes…

Next video cut –

Now can you make my heart danceAnd dance…How I do love to danceAnd dance…Oh, please, make my heart dance…

Next video cut –

Take me in your arms,Look me in the eyes,Before you kiss my lipsI want to hear your sighs…

Next video cut –

When it comes to loveStart with holding my hand…I know, it’s slow…but that’s how it goes…

Next video cut –

Say you love my hair,That you like my face,That my blouse is cuteAnd my shoes look great…

Next video cut –

You’ve got to turn me onWith your look and smellOtherwise, You go straight to hell…

Next video cut –

When it comes to loveStart with holding my hand…I know, it’s slow…but that’s how it goes…

Next video cut –

Candy, flowers, wine,All those gifts are fine,But what I really want

Are your arms on mine…

Next video cut –

When it comes to loveStart with holding my hand…I know, it’s slow…but that’s how it goes…

Next video cut –

Come on make my heart dance…Give me lots of romance…Put me in a love trance…

Next video cut –

Come on make my heart dance…When it comes to loveGive me lots of romance…Start with holding my hand…Put me in a love trance…I know, it’s slow…but that’s how it goes…

Next video cut –

Please make my heart dance…

Next video cut –

When it comes to loveYou’ve got to make my heart dance…

Next video cut –

When it comes to loveGive me lots of romance…

Next video cut –

When it comes to lovePut me in a love trance…

Next video cut –

When it comes to loveMake my heart dance…

Next video cut –

When it comes to love Make my heart dance…

Final video cut - Music and vocal refrain repeats, first line full voice, final line with a whisper…music and video fades to silence as fade to black completes…

For WillWhich Way

Your life, you’re told, has boundaries,“Please don’t step across this line.”

You ask me “Why?” but I don’t tell,

“Just don’t, and you’ll be fine.”

You look around at fences,“Are these my boundaries too?”

“Of course they are,” then I reply,“There’s actually very

few.”

You set your shoulders, turn around,take a first step on your way.

Your stride is sure and confident…

it’s nice out here today.

The sun goes down, the stars are out,the lights around are dim.

The boundaries seem so distant,the moon is sliver thin.

An intersection’s up ahead,you’ve now a choice to make.

Turn left or right, or carry onand continue to go

straight.

The left goes through a valley,it lies there lush and green.

A whisper flashes through your mind,

“Things aren’t always what they seem!”

The right path goes the high way,your senses seem to peak.

Is this the way you want to tread?

There’s danger there to seek!

Which way do you want to go?There are MANY choices left…

this is but your very first,it’s life, it’s not a test.

Choose this first path wisely,for later on you’ll find,

as you travel further every day,some paths DON’T

intertwine.

If you come to a cul-de-sac,you’ll have to start again,

just turn and smile bravely,’member ’tis not the

end.So which way do you want to go?

Which path is it you’ll take?Right, or left, or straight ahead?

Or is it barriers that you’ll break?

DHVHM

* * * * *

Since I’ve chosen to “hide” meanings in my verses, the following are my true interpretations. Feel free to study the poem again and see how well you can ferret them out for yourself before you read further. 1st verse - I mention life has “boundaries.” That word represents my expressed parenting guidelines. “You’ll be fine,” indicates that as long as MY “boundaries” aren’t broken, then there will never be cause for him to incur consequences, such as punishments or restrictions, in any form, to be assessed. 2nd verse - “Fences,” alludes to life-imposed restrictions and basic laws of our society as a whole. 3rd verse - Now that he’s aware of what he shouldn’t do and of his basic limitations, he’s moving forward, very confident in himself, and feels totally prepared for whatever may be thrown his way. 4th verse - “The sun goes down,” refers to closing the chapter of his life under MY guidance, because when his mother chooses to separate from and divorce me, I’m working in Atlanta, Georgia, while he’s now residing in Medford, Oregon. Thusly, my “boundaries” holding him in check have been removed, which is why they “seem so distant.” The moon being “sliver thin,” refers to the lack of illumination, or guidance, now being provided, or in his case, NOT being provided, by his alcoholic mother. 5th verse - The “intersection” is blatantly obvious, he’s on the verge of making a life choice. Unfortunately, without proper parental guidance, he’s not yet fully aware that it is indeed a life choice. 6th verse - “Lush valley,” brings to mind such “low” temptations as sexual relations and other excesses, including imbibing in various illegal activities, ranging from petty theft to stock fraud and beyond. “Things aren’t always what they seem!” implies that what you see on the surface is simply the tip, with the underlying iceberg-style problems and resultant retributions being well hidden below immediate view. 7th verse - The “high way” is my blatant reference to the temptations found every day in our present society of drugs, alcohol and multiple other illegal turn-ons that can divert a person from the “straight and narrow.” Sometimes the “danger” factor is inducement enough, but it could also stem from peer pressure, low self-esteem, or the desire to be accepted by others, whether by a friend or life partner. 8th & 9th verses – Devoid of parental guidance, the choices are 100% his. His future decisions now directly affect his life because some decisions and their resultant outcomes can never be changed, such as procuring a police record, or an incurable disease, loss of limb, scarring of body, or etcetera.

10th verse - The “cul-de-sac” refers to finding himself at a virtual dead end. Here I’m pointing out that no matter how bleak things may appear at that particular moment in time, it isn’t an end to your life, it’s merely an opportunity to start your life over again and, hopefully, benefit from better decision-making. 11th, final verse - I remind him that his decisions are all his own now, whether good or bad. In my final line I impart a thought provoking reference that he may choose to break “barriers,” which wouldn’t be necessarily bad, as that choice can also be made for good. Such as when one chooses to think outside the box, or chooses to affect a new form of positive change, whether to the environment, to society, his own being, a friend or life partner, his country, or mankind as a whole. When taken all together this poem simply comprises my efforts to provide a personal message to reaffirm the positive life values I imparted to him during his younger years as his father. You may ask, “Was I a strict father?” I reply, “Yes, Absolutely!” But, “Was I fair?” I sigh my reply, “Yes, I’d like to believe so.” As time unrelentingly passes I continue to steadfastly profess my unwavering love for both of my children and continue to wish them well in life and beyond. I would feel honored to be informed that one or more of my readers choose to utilize this same message in a similar manner to their child/ren or to a loved one that may have been led astray.

May God bless you, your friends, and your entire family!

G

Final Thoughts* * * * *

Thank you for meandering along this life-long journey with my grandmother and me by way of our shared poetry, idylls, song lyrics, and a few insightful snippets into our individual lives. I encourage you to please share your candid thoughts and personal opinions of any type with me at my newly created author’s Facebook page, located at the following web address:

www.facebook.com/authordavemeisburger

In closing, I thank all the people that have chosen to be a part of my life, each one of you are very special to me and have provided me with much more than friendship. The primary ones that I’m naming below, whether still living or not, continue to be the most precious to my heart…

Margaret Symons Taber – Maternal Grandmother, DeceasedMargaret Marilyn Jane Meisburger – Mother, Deceased

William Halliday Meisburger – Father, DeceasedStephen Meisburger – Brother, Deceased

Cheri Riebel - SisterMarki Mason - DaughterWill Meisburger – Son

Donalda Byrn – Childhood Friend & 1st LoveSusie Phillips – High School Sweetheart

Andrea Crespo - FriendJeff Froshman - Friend

Stan Tumilowicz - FriendBill Mullins - Friend

Barbie Yakowenko - FriendScott Fletcher - FriendJean Kinney – Friend

Kamie Butler – Publishing Coordinator & Friend

Margaret Symons Taber

My maternal Grandmother was born in Waterloo, Quebec, Canada, and married a dairy farmer who chose to make his fortune in life by moving his family to the tiny Village of Ballston Spa, New York. While living in Canada, she bore and raised four children, Eric, Janie, Jim and Dick. Upon my birth in New York she became a grandmother three short years before my grandfather sold his dairy farm & ice cream store to Friendly’s, after which the two of them retired to Chula Vista, California. Her first poetry book was published in 1940, entitled Dream Dust. She subsequently published three more books, Echoes of a Singing Heart in 1955, Chiaroscuro in 1965, and Wings on the Wind in 1976. Her poetry has been prominently featured in both Popular Poetry Magazine and The Poetry Digest. Besides her poetry, she was an accomplished artist that lovingly worked in charcoal, watercolor, oils, ceramics and more. She also contentedly dabbled daily in her expansive rose and vegetable gardens. My most precious memories of her are of strolling amongst the beaches and tide pools of Coronado Island and La Jolla, California, our myriad visits to the San Diego Zoo, Balboa Park and numerous museums, as well as playing Scrabble, checkers, chess, backgammon, and other thought-provoking games and art-related projects on her screened-in porch. To this very day I still miss her dearly.

* * * * *

David H. V. H. Meisburger

I was born on August 1, 1953, in Ballston Spa, New York, and raised on the family dairy farm for my first few years of life while my father served aboard a ship in the U. S. Navy during the Korean War. The farm had an honest-to-goodness spring in the far corner of their fenced property which fed a small brook, home to ravenous trout that bit at just about anything that was dropped in their path. As a toddler I explored everywhere I could get to; the barn, hayloft, cow and horse pastures, grain fields, farm equipment, and more. In my grandmother’s first poem about me, I’m related as being a terror, well representative of my Leo’s horoscope sign. I’ve traveled to and enjoyed the sights, sounds, and merriment in forty-eight of our fifty states, only missing Alaska and Idaho. I’m now 63 and officially retired, but I still help out my friends with their work whenever they’re in need, as they do the same for me. Due to my grandmother, I began writing and appreciating art in all its myriad forms at a very early age, which has inspired me to compile and compose this book in her honor.