The charming Miss Lola dwelt in the small town, at the edge of Red River,
With only her goose, 'Rouge.' She was named after her spot of wet vigor.
Rouge was the darling of Miss Lola, like precious spring, coming to visit;
And was forever roaming from river to house, like golden stars, in orbit.
Rouge frequented every room, as if aware that it was her dwelling, too;
Like the blue hours of glittering sun, when purple butterflies follow you.
Famished friends came to dinner, and ofttimes elderly neighbor, Franklin;
......
A Conversation Poem, April, 1798
No cloud, no relique of the sunken day
Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip
Of sullen light, no obscure trembling hues.
Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge!
You see the glimmer of the stream beneath,
But hear no murmuring: it flows silently.
O'er its soft bed of verdure. All is still.
A balmy night! and though the stars be dim,
......
The sky is cloudy, yellowed by the smoke.
For view there are the houses opposite
Cutting the sky with one long line of wall
Like solid fog: far as the eye can stretch
Monotony of surface & of form
Without a break to hang a guess upon.
No bird can make a shadow as it flies,
For all is shadow, as in ways o'erhung
By thickest canvass, where the golden rays
Are clothed in hemp. No figure lingering
......
Speak gently! -- It is better far
To rule by love, than fear --
Speak gently -- let not harsh words mar
The good we might do here!
Speak gently! -- Love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind;
And gently Friendship's accents flow;
Affection's voice is kind.
......
It's easy to fight when everything's right,
And you're mad with the thrill and the glory;
It's easy to cheer when victory's near,
And wallow in fields that are gory.
It's a different song when everything's wrong,
When you're feeling infernally mortal;
When it's ten against one, and hope there is none,
Buck up, little soldier, and chortle:
Carry on! Carry on!
......
The charming Miss Lola dwelt in the small town, at the edge of Red River,
With only her goose, 'Rouge.' She was named after her spot of wet vigor.
Rouge was the darling of Miss Lola, like precious spring, coming to visit;
And was forever roaming from river to house, like golden stars, in orbit.
Rouge frequented every room, as if aware that it was her dwelling, too;
Like the blue hours of glittering sun, when purple butterflies follow you.
Famished friends came to dinner, and ofttimes elderly neighbor, Franklin;
......
I will not fear. I will not be afraid.
Send your servants, and have custody of my eyes.
Send those that know, and I shall know them.
May I look up and find halos.
May I witness to the six pair of protection— the divine relayer of message.
If it takes over a month, I will kill my flesh.
I will embrace holy strength and forego these urges.
Father, may I master discernment.
Lord, I know not the full truth.
......
Stella Williams was eight years old, living with her widowed mother-
Happily, though a bit lonely, like powder blue skies, sans sunset color.
The Williams lived in a rural area, with no child Stella's age, nearby.
A farmer in the valley, was the only neighbor, like waves of no reply.
Still, school hours were fun for Stella, like rollicking days of summer;
When plum sun, waltzed with stars of glitter, often going undercover.
Stella, at times, threw coins in their well, to wish for a special friend,
......
Sunlight through bare trees
reflects off virgin snowfall.
Ignites hidden joy.
Jack Horner was an impish little boy, who lived on Cherry Orchard farm;
That produced varieties of fruit. For a mellowing sun, kept groves warm.
The Horners had always been a serious set-no nonsense, like spring rain;
And tried to teach their son responsibility, like time's jewels that remain.
But, alas, it was a big challenge, with hilarious grasshoppers in the hall!
Sent early to bed, he laughed long, the way you only laugh, when small.
Friends came face-to-face on fun Fridays, as February fled into summer,
......