This archive is not in any particualr order. Thanks to all who contributed!~~Kat

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"A Daughter's Love is Like No Other"
"A Psalm of Life"
"Witchcraft"
"Nobody Knows but Mother"
"The Raven"
"Two Vases"
"The Unknown Soldier"
"Love's Philosophy"
"Special Someone"
"A Secret Crush"
"Even This Shall Pass Away"
"The Dreamer"
"Storm"
"Jabberwocky"
"The Eagle" (a fragment)
"Musings"
"The Wanderer"
"To My Dear and Loving Husband"
"Four Ages of Man" (introduction)
Childhood ("Four Ages of Man" Part 1)

"A Daughter's Love is Like No Other"

She can raise your spirits very high,
and bring a tingle to you spine.

She can also make you feel so low,
but you know all will be fine.

She can bring a smile to your heart,
whenever she is near.

But not knowing what the future holds,
when that special boy appears.

Her thoughts are with another now,
and you think she doesn't care.

Then She looks at you that special way,
that makes everything seem fair.

~~Richard. S. Johnson

"A Psalm of Life"

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream! -
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and time is fleeting,
And our heart, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, -act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.

Footprints, that, perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

~~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"Witchcraft"

Crystal ball what wonders do you see
Amidst your swirling mist they be
The princess with the golden hair
Holds a beauty very rare

She cannot have more riches than me
Oh Crystal ball this you must agree
Why should she have beauty and wealth
No bad luck and such good health

Why must I have such an ugly face
She always having such good taste
Why do things go so wrong for me
She's always on a shopping spree

The Crystal ball replies to the witch
Why must you always be such a bitch
She's worked hard for all she's had
Look inside yourself and see you're bad

~~Carol Matthews

"Nobody Knows but Mother"

How many buttons are missing today?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many playthings are strewn in her way?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many thimbles and spools has she missed?
How many burns on each fat little fist?
How many bumps to be cuddled and kissed?
Nobody knows but Mother.

How many hats has she hunted today?
Nobody knows but Mother.
Carelessly hiding themselves in the hay
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many handkerchiefs wilfully strayed?
How many ribbons for each little maid?
How for her care can a mother be paid?
Nobody knows but Mother.

How many muddy shoes all in a row?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many stockings to darn, do you know?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many little torn aprons to mend?
How many hours of toil must she spend?
What is the time when her day's work shall end?
Nobody knows but Mother.

How many lunches for Tommy and Sam?
Nobody knows but Mother.
Cookies and apples and blackberry jam
Nobody knows but Mother.
Nourishing dainties for every "sweet tooth,'
Toddling Dottie or dignified Ruth-
How much love sweetens the labor, forsooth?
Nobody knows but Mother.

How many cares does a mother's heart know?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many joys from her mother love flow?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many prayers for each little white bed?
How many tears for her babes has she shed?
How many kisses for each curly head?
Nobody knows but Mother.

~~Mary Morrison

"The Raven"

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,-
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow,-sorrow for the lost Lenore,-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore,-
Nameless here forevermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me,-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;
That it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you."-Here I opened wide the door;
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word "Lenorel!
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word "Lenore!"
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before:
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window-lattice;
Let me see then what thereat is, and this mystery explore,-
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind, and nothing more."

Open then I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door,-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
'Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven;
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore,
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the night's Plutonian shore?"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptared bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore!"

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered,-not a feather then he fluttered,-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before,-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore!"

Startled at the stillness, broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his song one burden bore,
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore,-
Of 'Nevermore,-nevermore!"'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door,
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore-
Meant in croaking "Nevermore!"

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining, with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press-ah! nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer,
Swung by seraphim, whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee,-by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite,-respite and nepenthe from the memories of Lenore!
Quaff, 0, quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!-prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted,-
On this home by horror haunted,-tell me truly, I implore,-
Is there-is there balm in Gilead?-tell me,-tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!-prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that heaven that bends above us,-by that God we both adore,
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore,
Clasp a fair and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting-
"Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!-quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted-nevermore!

~~Edgar Allan Poe

"Two Vases"

Two vases stood on the Shelf of Life
As Love came by to look,
One was of priceless cloisonne',
The other of solid common clay.
Which do you think Love took?

He took them both from the Shelf of Life,
He took them both with a smile;
He clasped them both with his finger tips,
And touched them both with caressing lips,
And held them both for a while.

From tired hands Love let them fall,
And never a word was spoken.
One was of priceless cloisonn~,
The other of solid common clay.
Which do you think was broken?

~~Nan Terrell Reed

"The Unknown Soldier"

There's A Graveyard near the White House
Where the Unknown Soldier lies,
And the flowers there are sprinkled
With the tears from mother's eyes.

I stood there not so long ago
With roses for the brave,
And suddenly I heard a voice
Speak from out the grave:

'I am the Unknown Soldier,"
The spirit voice began,
'And I think I have the right
To ask some questions man to man.

'Are my buddies taken care of?
Was their victory so sweet?
Is that big reward you offered
Selling pencils on the street?

'Did they really win the freedom
They battled to achieve?
Do you still respect that Croix de Guerre
Above that empty sleeve?

'Does a gold star in the window
Now mean anything at all?
I wonder how my old girl feels
When she hears a bugle call.

"And that baby who sang
'Hello, Central, give me no man's land'-
Can they replace her daddy
With a military band?

"I wonder if the profiteers
Have satisfied their greed?
I wonder if a soldier's mother
Ever is in need?

'I wonder if the kings, who planned it all
Are really satisfied?
They played their game of checkers
And eleven million died.

'I am the Unknown Soldier
And maybe I died in vain,
But if I were alive and my country called,
I'd do it all over again."

~~Billy Rose

"Love's Philosophy"

The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever,
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle:-
Why not I with thine?

See! the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:-
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?

~~Percy Bysshe Shelley

"Special Someone"

We started out being friends,
And that was all it was supposed to be.
But as time went by,
Things should be more than friends to me.

I noticed many things about you
That I never knew before.
Your are one special person,
Nothing else means more.

Your smile has the power
To alwayz brighten up my day.
Just one touch from you
Can make all my pain go away.

The way you wrap your arms around me
Can just make me melt.
Your gentle kiss is even better,
It's the best I've ever felt.

I love the way
Your feelings are being shared.
Always being there for me,
Knowing that you care.

There were many times,
When I tried to express how I feel.
But then again-I might get rejected,
Knowing my pain will never heal.
Maybe there will be a day,
When my dream will come true.
There's no other person,
That's more special than you.

~~Lily Tchen

"A Secret Crush"

(part one)

When I first met you,
You created a bad image in my head.
Now that I got to know you,
I think you're a sweetheart instead.
When we first hugged,
It seems like nothing could go wrong.
Your arms were tightly wrapped around me,
Feeling passionate and strong.
I'd look into your eyes,
And they'd light up the room.
I think about you all the time-
Day to night, morning to noon.
Yet, it seems to me
There's someone that you like.
Whenever I see you two together,
Nothing would go right.
You guys would flirt and play,
And somehow ignore me, too.
For the past few days,
I've been feeling quite sad and blue.
I am embarrassed,
That I must confess.
Why did I ever get myself
Into this mess?
I can't say I love you,
'Cause I really don't.
But giving up on you,
Is something I definitely won't.
Please drop me a note,
Whether you like me or not.
Try to be gentle with your words,
'Cause I hate rejections, and I like you a lot.
My locker is number 3262,
Right on the third floor.
Just put the note there,
I'll be waiting till 4:00.
If you don't like me,
I'll be okay.
But please be honest
With what you have to say.

(part two)

I waited for your reply,
But it never came.
I was so angry at you,
Yet my feelings are still the same.
I wouldn't smile at you,
Nor would I talk.
Didn't even bother to look at you,
And I continued to walk.
Then you came up to me,
And gave me a hug.
It was the warmest of all,
I just wanted to cuddle and snug.
Suddenly, I realized
All the feelings came back.
My pulse was racing,
And my world went black.
You said you'll write me,
Which you promised about that, too.
Yesterday I was disappointed,
But now I believe in you.
Please keep your promise,
And make me happy for once.
Even if you say you don't like me,
I'll still like you a bunch.

(part three)

You're all I could think about
For the past few weeks.
I'd think of you during the day,
I'd dream about you in my sleep.
I would think about your face,
And who you really are.
My dreams, my hopes,
Even my shining star.
You're voice is something I'd recall,
Something I'd always want to hear.
I've never met someone like you before,
Never knew you could be so dear.
When you first said you loved me,
I thought it was a total lie.
But I soon learned to believe you
Just as time went by.
I waited forever,
And that question finally came.
My body got hot like fire,
My face was burning like flame.
I gave you a hug,
Then said, "I love you".
You hugged me back,
And said, "I love you, too".
You have given me everything,
Everything I ever wanted from above.
What I have for you
Is something I'd call "true love"

~~Lily Tchen

"Even This Shall Pass Away"

Once in Persia reigned a king,
Who upon his signet ring
Graved a maxim true and wise,
Which, if held before his eyes,
Gave him counsel at a glance
Fit for every change and chance.
Solemn words, and these are they,
'Even this shall pass away."

Trains of camels through the sand
Brought him gems from Samarcand;
Fleets of galleys through the seas
Brought him pearls to match with these;
But he counted not his gain
Treasures of the mine or main;
"What is wealth?" the king would say;
'Even this shall pass away."

'Mid the revels of his court,
At the zenith of his sport,
When the palms of all his guests
Burned with clapping at his jests,
He, amid his figs and wine,
Cried, 'O loving friends of mine;
Pleasures come, but not to stay,
'Even this shall pass away."'

Lady, fairest ever seen,
Was the bride he crowned his queen.
Pillowed on his marriage bed,
Softly to his soul he said:
Though no bridegroom ever pressed
Fairer bosom to his breast,
Mortal flesh must come to clay
Even this shall pass away."

Fighting on a furious field,
Once a javelin pierced his shield;
Soldiers, with a loud lament,
Bore him bleeding to his tent.
Groaning from his tortured side,
"Pain is hard to bear," he cried;
"But with patience, day by day,
Even this shall pass away."

Towering in the public square,
Twenty cubits in the air,
Rose his statue, carved in stone.
Then the king, disguised, unknown,
Stood before his sculptured name,
Musing meekly: "What is fame?
Fame is but a slow decay,
Even this shall pass away.'

Struck with palsy, sore and old,
Waiting at the Gates of Gold,
Said he with his dying breath,
'Life is done, but what is Death?"
Then, in answer to the king,
Fell a sunbeam on his ring,
Showing by a heavenly ray,
"Even this shall pass away."

~~Theodore Tilton

"The Dreamer"

I rock in the figment of my lover tonight,
as I hear golden voices I see tarnished sights
'though you feel so real, but you're just a prayer
that's wished into being, but I know you're there,
I think that I'm seeing your eyes seeing mine,
I hold you so close and yet fleeting time
has so quickly passed, a new morning breaks
a broken heart the dreamer makes.

~~Lynn M. Williams

"Storm"

She sweeps forward, resilient
Ready to strike her prey.
He stands sturdy, calm, patient
While the storm begins to play.

Commanding the wind and the rain
She eagerly strikes at him.
The waves testify his pain
As the radient sky grows dim.

He lashes out, she strikes back.
The wind whips as the waves crash.
Both the sky and sea turn black.
The battle shown through the flash.

The lightening rips through the sky.
The sea becomes a torrent.
A defenseless ship sails by
Trying to end their torment.

Her attempt just seems futile
Ignored by both sky and sea.
Wishing for death or exile
from violence she can not flee.

Soon the sea grows slowly calm
And the wind ends its onslaught.
The tattered ship out of harm
from the violence that was wrought.

The sky slowly grows brighter.
The sea reflecting her light.
They settle closely together
Keenly devouring the night.

~~Kathleen Tilstra

"Jabberwocky"

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
the frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the maxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.

As in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came.

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack.
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"Has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Calloh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

~~Lewis Carroll

"The Eagle" (a Fragment)

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

~~Alfred, Lord Tennyson

"Musings"

In the evening, in the crowded darkness,
Thoughts file by in rows of murky shadows.
titillating the mind with snapshots
Snipped from the dying day.
Faces frown with veiled distaste,
And the edges of forms, sharp
From little use, rush to gain
A coveted place.

Jostling each against the other,
vying for a moment's contemplation,
They are but fragments of a puzzle,
Laid bare, and jumbled,
Upon a faceless table.

They yearn to form a poignant portrait,
Crafted from scattered slivers
Of consciousness fallen by the way.
I let them slip past my casual inner eye.
Meaningless, nameless, numberless,
They cry in voiceless grief,
Seeking wholeness, seeking life,
Reaching for meaning,
In the evening, in the crowded darkness.

~~Sojourner Bard

"The Wanderer"

I have wandered the deserts of ages past, and ridden
the bones of forgotten ponies upon this brooding plain.
Mongols have trod this grassed expanse,
dreaming of forgotten things.
With backs braced against the north blown wind,
frozen tongues mumbled secrets to their flickering fire,
and lips, now sealed by eons of swirling dust, once whispered,
fearful in the night, while the gray wolves howled
in the dimming light.
Oh, I know the pain of loneliness. the shadows of forgotten
loves leap and prance, embrodering their mirth with needles
of obscene glee.
I lift my wineskin and once again drink to those who passed
my way, wayfaring on the high road to the razor edge of time.
I laugh, and grin with toothless mirth. I sing my song
of gibberish, I gesture with my withered hand, for fate
strides silent by my side. Under shadowed cowl
her gleaming eyes are rapt with burning fires.
Her task fulfilled, will she fade through the sliding
gates of night?
Or, grant me peaceful sleep as I stumble, drunken to my bed?

~~Sojourner Bard

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