Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

               Keep a Sharp Lookout – This Fog Won’t Last

           My country was made for noble hearts such as yours.

                       -Aslan in Voyage of the Dawn Treader

When we can’t turn outward, we turn inward
That might not be such a good thing, you know
We are probably out-of-practice, busied
With meetings and work and coffee-shop dates

For now our lives are solitude and screens
Pajama feet and emptiness, and if
We call someone, who is it who answers us?
“Be still, and know that I am Internet?”

Oh, no. The night is misty indeed, but the stars -
The stars still shine; be brave, and look for them

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                    Do not Clench unto Others

Merciful God in His infinite love
Will never clench His fist at us

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                          A Little Child Lacing Her Shoes

                                  For Sarah, of course

She is as proud, as she can be, and I -
I too am proud, watching her twist her tongue
In thought – the rabbit pops into its hole
To emerge on the other side – hello!

She is as proud as she can be, but I
Am a little bit sad as she stands up now
Dancing in place to make the heel-lights *****
Then giggling, “Catch me, Daddy!” as she runs away

And I play-chase, knowing that all too soon
There won’t be little lights for me to follow

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                   Tin Ears in the Hands of an Angry God

                       -as Jonathan Edwards did not yell

If You are good and kind and loving, O Lord
Then why do You permit
                                                 The harpsichord?

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                Contagious Disease Unit – Ward 20 Deck 2

Maybe my aptitude for throwing up
My ENT infections, fevers and chills
Hopeless motion sickness and fainting fits
Were the reasons why NavPers posted me there

All the diseases in the Fleet called it home:
Infections, syphilis, leprosy, the clap
(Let’s give him a hand), and for reasons not clear
A couple of crewmen from the Pueblo

Before I was sent to be sick in Indo-China -
And now they say there’s a virus going around

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                      Waiting for the Messiah Someplace Else

     Motel: Rabbi, we've been waiting for the Messiah all our lives.
     Wouldn't now be a good time for him to come?

      Rabbi: I guess we'll have to wait someplace else.

                                   -Fiddler on the Roof

And so we wait, here where we are, the time
Marked off by calends and by candlelight
Four Gospels in a ring of holy fire
Before the Altar, and before the Throne

The Magi journey through space and time
Our journey is in waiting for a star
To shine upon us all, and lead us to
The Temple where all waiting finally ends

Beside an Altar of repose in a Stable
A cradle of wood from Eden and the Ark

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                   Marketing Strategies of the Nazgul

An email arrived from a dear, dear friend
I was so glad to hear from him…until
Unhappy remembrance – he’s dead and still
And my stitches were torn open again

Some Nazgul program had encountered his name
And mine, and smashed them together to see
If some foul poison could be sold to me
Through a counterfeit, the cruelest game

But in faith my friend lives, as we have read -
It is the Nazgul who are truly dead

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

              The Rural Electric Co-Op’s Giant Christmas Tree

Christmas trees are a delight to a child
On the farm, situational poverty
In muck and filth, old coat against the cold
Finishing the milking long hours after dark

But to the east a Christmas tree, a hope
The electric co-op’s radio mast
Its guy wires strung with multi-colored lights
The North Pole must be something like that

Christmas trees are a delight to a child
And even more when the child becomes a man

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                            The Advent of Our Discontent

                             -As Shakespeare did not say

Everyone accuses everyone else
Of treason; they’d call each other Quislings
If they had any history, but they don’t
Only Hochhuth and Unferth on the air

But you and I have wood to split and stack
The garden to level and put to sleep
Cows to get up for the milking at dusk
And in the evening, a cozy fire to watch

Oh, listen to the migrating geese, up high!
Unlike us humans, they never learned to lie

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                             The Man Who Delivered the Movies

The Saturday afternoon matinee
Outside the Palace Theatre in a line
Impatient for the hour, the man, John Wayne
Air-conditioning, popcorn, Coca-Cola, escape

Then riding to the rescue of the ranch
The man who delivered the reels of fun
Running up the steps with a big grey case
Of Rio Bravo – he brought us our dreams

And did he know, speeding to little towns
That he too was a hero of the Golden West?