The Fallen

                              

Some fell on the beaches, some fell from the sky.
Some died in the trenches, never knowing why.

They died for flags, they died in rags,
in clothes so battle torn,
Some died before they fully knew
why they were even born.

Some died upon the spots they fell,
and went quickly to their graves.
Some lived to tell their tales of hell,
wondering why they had been saved.

The best, the worst, dead last or first
they all died just the same.

Some had scars which couldn't be seen,
or plates worn inside their heads.
With lungs so scarred from gasses
they could hardly draw a breath.

But all of them died heroes,
on this we all agree.
They died deaths not for them selves,
but died for you and me.

Photo by Wm. Shone Williams
Circa July 1918 in France

Wm. Shone Williams died at age 43, with a metal plate in his head and lungs scarred from mustard gas. It took him 25 years to die. A belated casualty of "the War to end all wars." He was the grandfather I never knew.

Ode to Arcturus

Every year around this time
I change my "wishing" star.
There are only 4 of them,
held close, though they are far.

Light years beyond where I stand
and gaze at their magic light,
my wishing stars look down on me
and keep me safe throughout the night.

When Orion fades and Betelguese
have left my nighttime view,
Arcturus comes to guard the Bear
and bring me luck anew.

If you don't have a wishing star
then take a look and see,
just find the Dipper's handle
and share it's love with me.

Ed's Place - "Nighthawks"

In the all night diner in the corner of my mind
there isn't anything that you can't find.
Eggs, pancakes, ham and more
there's nothing here you cannot score,
in the all night diner in the corner of my mind.

At the corner of Wide Awake and Dreams
you'll find everything and anything it seems,
that you have ever craved
or lose everything you've ever saved,
at the corner of Wide Awake and Dreams.

Though the guy who owns the joint may not be cool,
he's street wise and he doesn't suffer fools.
He'll fix up  a broken heart,
and stop fights that never start,
though the guy who owns the joint may not be cool.

In the cafe that's always open all night long,
Theres a jukebox that always plays your favorite song.
The lyrics might be kind of trite,
but it plays them every night,
in the cafe that's always open all night long.

It's a place that never seems to draw a crowd,
but in a subdued kind of way is always loud.
It's a place to wait for dawn,
sipping coffee while you yawn,
it's the place that never seems to draw a crowd.

There's one just like this place in any town,
and it seems to draw the people who are down.
For folks who have no jobs
and hearts filled with lonely sobs,
there's one just like this place in any town.

Inspired by Edward Hooper's "Nighthawks".

My First Bet

My first bet, remembered yet
was against the school house wall.
Barely twelve I had the itch.
and though I'd pitch, I didn't get rich.
But how I loved that wall.

Never stopped to wonder what I'd do
If those pitches wished would all come true.
I'd toss the coin, or flip the card,
standing in that old school yard,
not knowing life was hard.

Things went on this way for years,
enjoying laughter, fearing fears.
Though at times there were some tears,
they'd quickly dry away.
Time for those another day.

I had no scheme no plan, no guile
just passing time, with time to while,
and strength to go another mile.
With an open mind to any dare,
never pausing once to care.

Now the days grow short in hope,
I glimpse the true length of the rope
with which I used to lasso dreams,
reduced to threads to sew the seams
torn by passing time.

And yet I stand before a wall,
more aware that all walls fall.
But if I had to change a thing,
of what and who I think I've been,
I doubt I would at all.

Good and bad, or ugly yet,
I'd toss the coin, still make the bet
and flip the cards and watch them fall.
Knowing full the price I'd pay,
I still wouldn't wish my past away.

The Easter Bunny

 

The HOA said no soliciting,
but I guess he just wasn't listening
when the Easter Bunny came
knocking on my door.

Being he is Santa's cousin
I said,"I'll take an even dozen".
When I saw that they were chocolate
I took a dozen more!

As a rabbit has to make a living
and holidays are days of giving,
I ate them all and now my tummy says,
"Please stop, I'm getting sore!"

Rabbit says he'll be back next year,
and I told him he'd best tuck his ears,
if he's planning on selling
eggs from door to door.

Easter is a day for giving
but my HOA ain't that forgiving,
And if he comes again they'll be waiting,
on that point I'm pretty sure!

So be careful my chocolate toting friend.
Your next trip might just be the end.
And then I'll have to take the car
and buy my chocolate eggs at the store!

But he's an optimistic bunny
And though I know it may sound funny
I'll bet you all my Easter money that
next year he'll be right back here at my door!

Man of War

Man of War Sailing
(Painting by Christopher J. Guise)

It's a sunny bright morning
the ship's under full sail.
and if Neptune is happy
the bilges won't need to be bailed.

The cook's been up
since way before dawn,
and the smell of the coffee
erases all yawns.

There are lines to be spliced
and painting needs done,
all under the rays
of a bright shining Sun.

A ship under sail,
is a sailor's delight.
And if all works out well
t'will be a bright moonlit night.
  

The Midwatch

The Midwatch

This poem is based on the painting "Crescent Moon" by Montague Dawson.

The sails are all creaking,
there's a shroud o'er the moon.
The crew is all sleeping,
under a full mast and boom.

The day's work is done,
hatches battened down tight.
All troubles are gone
'til morning's daylight.

The ship rocks on the ocean
It sways beam to beam.
Not a sailor's awake,
all lare ost in their dreams.