Leo's Poetry Pit

[Cyrille]

Here's one that may be more in keeping with the prevailing theme of this day. (not mine)

Grave Marker in the Shenandoah Valley

Let the summer rains come
and mingle with my tears.
I am not ashamed of tears.

Young men do not cry.
 They are invincible--- in their own eyes.
Old men give thanks for tears.

Coffins lie on coffins
the corpses are piled chest high.
Old men talk the war talk.
But it is the young who die!

[Cyrille]

Faun

He was here
asleep;
reed pipes
laid by.

The impress of his head
lightly etched
into the
moss-cushioned rock.

His fine-boned face
shadow-mottled-- beautiful
beneath the aconite.
His small ebony hooves
shod in silver...

The goats' reek of him
 stands, pungent in the
moist morning air.

Have you not
caught his scent?
Stay close
He watches
from the fog.

Cyrille

[Cyrille]

Seems like this thread is "dead in the water" so here's something in a lighter vein that may revive interest. It was originally written for my former S. C. A. group, the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

The Thane of Lout

Come list  good gentles, as I expound
on where the axe of Lessmoore was found.
A Viking with axe, was entombed in this tree
T'was in the year 1003.

His grave was lost in the wild
for quite awhile.
The epitath writ
in old Norse style.

{translation}

Thane Conan, the Red
was out viking this day
when a lethal arrow
sped his way.

It pierced his ear,
lodged in his head
surprised him greatly
and killed him dead!

He sat there, dead, for quite awhile
I must say, he died with style,
his head arrowed to this hollow tree,
axe in hand, just as neat as could be.

His buds came looking and
what did they find?
Thane Conan, with an
arrow on his mind;

sitting here
arrow through his brain.
Looking as though
he'd suffered a migraine.

Into this tree
they stuffed their Thane
just in time to beat the rain.

Then some added,
a bard, no doubt
Here sits Conan, Thane of Lout
also known as Conan the Red
we buried him here, cause he was dead.

[Advertising]

[Scarlet Angel]

Here's one a friend of mine forwarded to me.

Leo, I'm sure it will move Lil as it did me, perhaps even some of the Fellas.

The Game Horse

He was tied up to the trailer out behind the stands,
a blaze-face sorrel gelding, roughly 15 hands,
high withers, slightly ewe-neck, back a little swayed,
white hairs on his muzzle, eyes sunk in with age.
An old warrior with his best years long since gone away,
 left here baby-sitting at a small-town horse play-day.

Watched over by her parents, a young girl kissed the horse;
they coached her on the fine points and wished her luck, of course.
He hardly seemed to notice when the small girl took his lead;
he followed without balking but not with any speed.
She climbed on and walked him round some, he went without a fuss;
his head was down, the reins were slack, his feet dragged in the dust.

When they called her name his ears pricked up, she sat up in her seat;
trotting to the gate there was new lightness in his feet.
When they got into the alley he flared his nostrils wide,
picked up the bit and arched his neck, she latched on for the ride.
She let him go and as they went the years melted away,
and he was once again the barrel horse in younger days.

With eyes on fire and muscles bunched, raw power in his stride,
 blazing speed and energy wrapped in horse's hide.
He had chased the cans from old Cheyenne to the Calgary Stampede,
 from Amarilo to Salinas, he had lived the game horse creed:
 "Run To Live, Live To Run," it was printed in his genes,
from nose to tail his big heart pumped blue blood through his veins.

Coming through the pattern they touched the last can some;
 it was still up on it's edge when they were halfway home.
 When she asked him for a little, he gave her all he had;
the barrel stood, the run was good, and the time was not too bad.
When she pulls the saddle he's an old horse once again,
but while he's running barrels, he's all he's ever been.

So here's to that old gamer--may our golden years like his
be filled with goldenn moments and glorious memeries,
 of races run and races won, of places that we've been,
of friends we've made along the way and good things we have seen.
 And someone who will need us for what we still can do--
may our needs be small, our wants be less, and our troubles be but few.

By: Tony Schwader

[Leo Tanner]

Thanks, that was great

     I'll have Lil read it in the morning.  I have the insomnia bug again an don't want to disturb her just now, but it's definately good stuff!


Leo

[Lucky Irish Tom]

That was great Scarlet!

[Leo Tanner]

Scarlet, she just read that an actually cried.  Got a feelin you an her would make fast friends.
     Thanks agian for the contribution


Leo

[Scarlet Angel]

I'm glad y'all enjoyed.

Leo, don't tell nobody but Lil, I cried too. Brought back a whole bunch of memories of a sorrel horse I rode as a kid. Twice in his life I took bets he couldn't be beat. Once on a quarter mile track against a horse half his age and once on a flat streach of beach, he was 20 yrs the other horses' senior. My sister rode him barrels for yrs before that.

[Silver Creek Slim]

Sure was a good one, Scarlet.

Slim

[Cyrille]

Here's one written by an English bard of the 19th century.
 See if you can guess who it's about.

Great-Heart

Concerning brave captains
our age hath made known
For all men to honour,
one standeth alone,
of whom, o'er both oceans,
both peoples may say:
"Our realm is diminshed
with Great-Heart away."

In purpose unsparing,
in action no less, the labours he praised
he would seek and profess
Through travail and battle,
at hazard and pain...
and our world is none the braver
since Great-Heart was ta'en!

Plain speech with plain folk,
and plain words for false things,
plain faith in plain dealing
'Twixt neighbours or kings,
he used and he followed,
however it sped...
Oh, our world is none more honest
Now Great-Heart is dead!

The heat of his spirit
struck warm through all lands;
for he loved such as showed
'Emselves men of their hands;
in love as in hate,
paying home to the last...
But our world is none the kinder
Now Great-Heat hath passed!

Hard-schooled by long power,
yet most humble of mind
where aught that he was
might advantage mankind.
Leal servant , loved master,
rare comrade, sure guide....
Oh our world is none the safer
now Great-Heart hath died!

Let those who would handle
make sure they can wield
his far-reaching sword
and his close-guarding shield:
For those who must journey
henceforward alone
have need of stout convoy
now Great-Heart is gone.
                                 
                          Rudyard Kipling

[Silver Creek Slim]

TR

Slim

[Leo Tanner]

"Speak softly and carry a big stick"

     One of my favorite quotes.


Leo

[Cyrille]

yup!

[kid sheleen]

Here's one for the 4th coming up.

To The Memory of the Brave Americans, under gen. greene, in South Carolina, who fell in the action of Sept. 8, 1781:

At Eutaw Springs the valiant died;
  Their limbs with dust are covered o'er--
Weep on, ye springs, your fearful tide;
  How many heroes are no more!

If in this wreck of ruin, they
  Can yet be thought to claim a tear,
O smite your gentle breast, and say
  The friends of freedom slumber here!

Thou, who shalt trace this bloody plain,
  If goodness rules thy generous breast,
Sigh for the wasted rural reign;
  Sigh for the sheperds sunk to rest!

Stranger, their humble graves adorn;
  You too may fall, and ask a tear;
'Tis not the beauty of the morn
  That proves the evening shall be clear.---

They saw their injured country's woe;
  The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
  They took the spear---but left the shield.

Led by thy conquering genius, Greene,
  The Britons they compelled to fly;
None distant viewed the fatal plain,
  None grieved, in such a cause to die--

But, like Parthian, famed of old,
  Who, flying, still their arrows threw,
These routed Britons, full as bold,
  Retreated, and retreating slew.

Now rest in peace, our patriot band;
  Though far from nature's limits thrown,
We trust they find a happier land,
  A brighter sunshine of their own.

Philip Freneau 1752-1832

[Leo Tanner]

That was great Kid.
     Thanks fer sharin.


Leo

[kid sheleen]

And here's my all-time favorite.  I have kept it on the fridge for over 21 years.  It was published in the newspaper in 1987 and couldn't have come at a better time.  I had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer about two months before and they gave me a 10% chance of coming out alive.  My wife was in the family way with our second child and things were grim.  4 operations, sixteen weeks of chemotherapy, and twenty-one years later I'm still here and have watched while my 21 yr old son, who was born the day before I was released from the hospital after my 2nd operation, has grown into a fine young man. A man to ride the river with.
You've probably heard it before, but it bears repeating.  There may be someone out there who needs it, like I did.

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest! if you must; but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up, though the pace seems slow;
You might succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup.
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out;
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt;
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit;
It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit

Anon.

[Leo Tanner]

That ones goin on our fridge ASAP.  Thanks kid.

[Delmonico]

You'nse are gettin' to serious in here, so here, lighten up.

VEGETARIAN'S  NIGHTMARE by Baxter Black

a dissertation on plants rights

Ladies and diners I make youA shameful, degrading confession.
A deed of disgrace in the name of good taste
Though I did it, I meant no aggression.
I had planted a garden last April
And lovingly sang it a ballad.
But later in June beneath a full moon
Forgive me, I wanted a salad!
So I slipped out and fondled a carrot
Caressing its feathery top.
With the force of a brute I tore out the root!
It whimpered and came with a pop!
Then laying my hand on a radish
I jerked and it left a small crater.
Then with the blade of my True Value spade
I exhumed a slumbering tater!Celery I plucked,
I twisted a squash!
Tomatoes were wincing in fear.
I choked the Romaine.
It screamed out in pain,
Their anguish was filling my ears!
I finally came to the lettuce
As it cringed at the top of the row
With one wicked slice I beheaded it twice
As it writhed, I dealt a death blow.
I butchered the onions and parsley.
My hoe was all covered with gore.
I chopped and I whacked without looking back
Then I stealthily slipped in the door.
My bounty lay naked and dying
So I drowned them to snuff out their life.
I sliced and I peeled as they thrashed and they reeled
On the cutting board under my knife.I violated tomatoes
So their innards could never survive.
I grated and ground ‘til they made not a sound
Then I boiled the tater alive!
Then I took the small broken pieces
I had tortured and killed with my handsA
nd tossed them together, heedless of whether
They suffered or made their demands.I ate them.
Forgive me, I’m sorry
But hear me, though I’m a beginner
Those plants feel pain, though it’s hard to explain
To someone who eats them for dinner!
I intend to begin a crusade
For PLANT’S RIGHTS, including chick peas.
The A.C.L.U. will be helping me too.
In the meantime, please pass the bleu cheese.

[Leo Tanner]

You don't know how funny that is right now!
     Last night night we had nuthin but veggies and taters fer dinner.  Jumbo artichokes, corn on the cob an the taters.  Good meal, didn't leave me wantin at all.
     Thanks Del


Leo

[Delmonico]

You don't know how funny that is right now!
     Last night night we had nuthin but veggies and taters fer dinner.  Jumbo artichokes, corn on the cob an the taters.  Good meal, didn't leave me wantin at all.
     Thanks Del


Leo

Did I forget to meantion it was for you and last night's supper.