Old Schoolkids

Our little church bought a limousine
And ferried southside kids to Burger King
For breakfast before heading up the hill.
We’d sing a song or two or three and spill
Some orange juice on ourselves and cry, then laugh
When seeing sparrows on the flannel graph.

I thought it strange that our chauffeur could give
Us all a lesson on how to die and live
While speeding through the morning countryside –
We used to call it God’s Miracle Ride.


The Baying Burble Tree


In the silence of September
Where the gleaming grundles grow,
Beneath the Baying Burble tree
Across the hedging row,

There lives a codgered gentleman
Among the Crazy Cricks,
A man of mirth and melody
Who peddles Burble sticks.

His voice is heard above the heath
And down below the holler,
Singing, “Buy my Baying Burble sticks
For a dillar and a dollar!”

Well now, all the Cricks and Creaks and Croaks
That lived around the land
Felt that buying silly Burble sticks
Was more than they could stand.

And so they got them axes, gropes and graws,
Then vowed a villain’s vow:
“Tomorrow noon where Burble stands,
The plog will pull the plow.”

That night the old and codgered gentleman
Could hear their cruel cries
As Cricks and Croaks flew round their fires
That flamed the forest skies.

What will he do whose only joy
And job will turn to dust?
What could he do that could be done
Before the Burble busts?

Then as the morning billows blushed
Above the Tootle trees,
And yellow Yikes and Yolo Balls
Were swaying in the breeze,

The strangest sight that you could see
Was seen up in the sky —
A giant Baying Burble tree
And passenger sailed by.

There sitting on a lumpy limb
And holding on for life,
The dear old codgered gentleman
Notched a message with his knife.

And this is what the writing read
Although the tree grew smaller:
“Come ride the Flying Burble tree
For a dillar and a dollar!”

The moral of the story is
A short and simple saying:
“Enterprise works miracles,
But not without much praying!”


Starry, Starry Flight


In starry, starry flight between
A blushing moon and earthly light –
Ghostly forms – both sign and seal of
Near and distant storms,
Slowly swim and glide below the jeweled
Span in which they hide,
Keeping midnight rendezvous with
Ancient lore and worlds to come.


Dec. 21, 2010 not attached to poem:

“Last night’s lunar eclipse was an extraordinary sight for mortals who happened to see it.
I awoke at 12:30 a.m. and noticed the blinding moonlight from two hours earlier had disappeared. The eclipse had reached its full intensity.

“I mounted my camera to a tripod and went outside in my pajamas and socks. Barb was right behind me. What a view!

“After a few minutes, Barb said, “What is that?!” A flock of geese was gliding across the sky below the moon. There were over a dozen of them. There was no way I could capture them, since each exposure was about 3 seconds at f8, so I grabbed another picture of some geese I had taken and worked in Photoshop to add them to the eclipse shot. The city lights had lit the geese as they flew by. What a memory!”