GRANDMA'S THANKSGIVING
"Over the river and thru' the woods to Grandmother's house we go."

No, we don't go to Grandma's house anymore.
As we did away back in days of yore.

But we still remember the good times we had.
The caring and love, tho' times were bad.

Grandpa saying Grace in his old German ways.
Grandma in her apron; those were the days.

It all started about nineteen-fifteen,
With it's tall White house and big red barn.

Come Thanksgiving, with no relatives near,
They gathered with neighbors to bring Holiday Cheer.

To the four-mile schoolhouse they came all together,
With families and food -- no matter the weather.

For each pioneer mother did her very best
To cook her special treats and out do the rest.

And give thanks for gardens and neighbors so near,
They brought and shared gladly their food and good cheer.

The children had practiced for weeks., come what may.
For each had a piece to  be given that day.

A song to be sung, maybe a poem read from a card, ,
While the Wheezie old ***** was pumped very hard.

When all the program was over and done,
On to Grandma's and Grandpa's for more food and fun.

A few years later instead of the farm we'd go,
To the old Rock  House -- home of Tena and Joe.

Eventually the group grew too large and so
To Potwin Community House we did go.

So today we give thanks for a legend in our time,
For Grandpa and Grandma and the memories they left behind.

And for friends and aunts, uncles and cousins,
We come altogether each year by the dozen.

to remember the past and visit a while here.
Then to say Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

- Doris G -- 1983

BROKEN MEMORY

Was it a whole illustration or simply an illusion adrift in pieces of my mind

Nothing particular to pick or choose ,reaching into blackness how will I know what was lost

Meandering behind mayhem ,enveloped in precaution,lingering with each new find

Reality wanting to win while we partially block some sin,slow mornings waiting to defrost

Shattered mirrors reflect many images ,particles positioned, connections intertwined


Retrospective reasons fail to fall in line ,but maybe we remain eager to replace them at all cost

Let it rest some might say ,their own thoughts are not just patchwork to play ,climbing
like jungle vine

Staying outside my mind's line ,enter at our own risk,new views often have a twist

Make thoughts work just another twerk,agree for the need would be just fine

Drama dangles never ending angles ,feeds upon weakness while reading that lost list

Maturity should rely upon sincerity ,popping bubbles from past crashes should help enlighten ,clearing our mind to help our futures shine R.C.

OUR MEMORY IS THEIR MEMORIAL
Family's plight for a now lost vision that ended none to bright

Unknown fate was their open gate ,being alone yet surrounded by so many others

Friend's or enemy's  comrade or foe ,could have become mates if they would have met under a different light

Many went with never a chance to prevent, facing factors set upon them by unknown actors

Fledgling feelings of patriotism maybe soon to be cast aside, as the rockets red glare explode with the largest might

Hearts at home worry as their soul mates roam ,saving some unknown people from meaningless matters

Hoards of humans cast onto sides ,winning by numbers & a line in the sand,some left to go home alone but left shuddering in fright

A single life lost casts a long shadow ,nameless,faceless kin removing a notch from genealogy,loving memory's as the tears scatter

Brothers in arms, soul mates of the sea make a pact to go out together ,but all are not chosen so the others live a lifetime in plight

Pause for the cause maybe to give all we can give, but as we go  our closest relations are just left to start a new chapter

Ample amounts of Flags & wreaths now a simple marker ,white marble crosses assume they know the religion of the soul that took flight

Many speak of while others grieve for victims of war, when people left at home now carry the heaviest anchor

Medals of honor or purple hearts bring the greatest weight when the grim reaper chose the fate,now the many,many other friends even foes are left to  cry in the new daylight or to read the prayers by candlelight. R.C.

DREAM IN THE DARK

Backed into a corner ,laying low looking forlorn why can't it simply be bright in the morn

Brightest entrance  steering me across the house's floor,one step too many dropping again below another dank cellar door

Maybe moments saved in reserve so all the danger is a temporary stranger,laying in wait like the next storm

How often have we been blinded by bliss,feelings hidden by a warm kiss that carries to our core

Images split when lacking grit our common way is with wit,some days linger ,will it sap all our strength to mourn

Blessed are the babies with basic needs,growth desires deep energy ,adding life in layers ,good or bad but always more

We let our minds play fancy, not reaching in to deep just gently dancing ,silent edges become the norm

Nothing old is near what we can not feel can not be feared,simple suppression now a common daily chore

Many may plead to open up,hard to  pour from an empty cup,what can be built with an empty form

Rock solid not even a blink,emotion controlled through a wink,stone cold ,lacking passion leaves little to explore

Long buried inhibitions can't make an exhibition,  keeping commotion buried will just leave us harried,sometimes facing rearward can leave us reborn.R.C.

EARLY RISER

Time placed in reverse is not something that is easy to rehearse ,riding along on their cycle of light

Caught in the swirl of what is perceived as a day ,split with living and resting between sunrise and dawn  

Normal barriers broken, for many it goes unspoken,just remaining restless in their own right

Surviving another night of flimsy stardust we tried clinging with all the might,simply await another yawn

Tasting the new rays, conscious of another day ,but lacking the slumber it's weight will hold heavy on my plight

Now simply settling to let the mind cruise is future rest just a ruse,intense changes our mind & body have undergone

Revolving door with no exit does a natural level exist,is it always slightly out of reach in orbit like a satellite

Training with chimes is fast becoming a crime ,plying unsteady rhythms  like a long lost song

Society's markers are made ,cycles of our days are laid ,do we do wrong when rest is not found in the night

Game with no rules simple patterns now hold more value than jewels,again passing time  waiting for a new day to be drawn.R.C.

ALL HALLOWS EVENING
Tantalized by trickery to be teased with the expectation of tasty treats

Carousing kiddies can't wait to click their heels but to stay away from home

Tall top hats tilted with final ****** gilded ,laughing or trembling just for the sweets

Dedication by many overlooking a link with religion ,cut loose with no chaperone

Frightful or often funny ,individually punny ,some just trying to others the creeps

Dancing damsels are distressed, Knights to guard them while monsters just groan

Freaks frolicking standing aside while the princesses make their leaps

Graveside now nice for a time,freaks from the shadows both smile & moan

All invited to the grand ball,party to remember for peeps & those that are tall

Uncage the animals,make up for others,imaginations rule no excuse to sit like a stone

One night to recall came to play in fall,beautiful or bewildered came together to enthrall . R.C.

PAUPER'S GRAVE

Mighty marble walls of a mausoleum,gilded gates guarded by cherubs ,are we now guarded from a fight or flight

Make allowance for common cowardice ,slipping while constantly reaching out

Passing by taking in the green ,organized in rows, caps and crosses in brilliant white

Left in calmness, shade of a few trees, soft easing of the breeze, allowing our mind to take a new route

Bigger thrill to be placed on the hill? a view to not be enjoyed by you,will it matter if blocked by blight

Day to day are we giving to pay our final way.will the memory be any finer when they are astute

Tribulation or trial helps pass our time for awhile,do many care how others might fare,location,location is now the new plight

Many markers still make up real names of once great souls ,now lost in their roles of laying low or high are in dispute

Segmented cemeteries lain  for those with nothing left to gain ,will our place make us higher in the tribe

John Doe or mighty Moe when reduced to name on a gravestone no concern of the ones below,lifetime lost, point now moot . R.C.