POEM COLLECTION #2: THE ROOFS OF NEUCHÂTEL
part 5: loving
Commentary
Among the repeaters in this category I would simply note that Christmas at Pinehurst seems to have shown some staying power. It appeared in The Pilot at Christmas 1991. The Village Chapel used the poem in its bulletin for the 1993 Christmas Eve service. Then, surprisingly, in March 1994, the editor of the Chapel's letter to the congregation ran it because "It has a message for all seasons and I know you will enjoy reading it again." This led to a request that I write something special for the letter to the congregation to appear in the 1994 Thanksgiving season. The Giving of Thanks was the response.
Ever Love came from a stranger seed. One night, what seemed like the night through, my mind heard repeatedly a very simple melody, which on waking I kept humming. Come early morning, I set down seemingly appropriate words for this tune, which to this day has not found wider aural expression.
Moments spent with my three-year-old great grandson Mitchell led me to picture what is set forth in Gardens.
In the summer of 1994, the Men's Golf Association of The Club at Longleaf held its first member-guest tournament. I was asked to write something appropriate for the occasion. Hence: Golfer.
Secrets was suggested by the longer French poem Les intimities written by my uncle, Paul Rudhardt, Geneva, November 1898, which poem served as an introduction to a collection of his poems published under the same title. After several unsuccessful attempts on my part to translate his poem into English, I took the germ of his to write my own.
The Days of Her Life is a poem written originally on my wife's birthday, reflecting my admiration for the ease, the grace, the happy spirit, with which she usefully fills the hours of the day. I have used it again, in a sense, to show my gratitute to other women of my immediate family who display such gifts, that they too may know of the pleasure they bring to others by coping with life as they do.
Horizons is the look forward, as expressed on my wife's 80th birthday.
As for the inclusion of Miriam, I cannot envision presenting poems on any subject, least one dealing with love, without again paying homage to the one who has been and remains my life's greatest blessing.
PAB 1996
Gardens
Come take my hand, little friend; you and I
Shall walk the golden garden lane
Where others have at other times
With love sweet scented flowers placed
Then come again, and you and I, in turn
With love shall sow sweet seed that others may
At other times when hand in hand, walk by
And reap the scented beauty of our deed
Golfer
Come join me in still one more round
For the game has bid me return
Where challenges ever abound
It's for daring and sharing I yearn.
Where else can such pleasurable play
Midst sweet scented pines on the scene
Surpass the roll of the fairway
As it slopes from tee-box to green?
Yet verily what comes to mind
As I take stance for the next shot
Is the joy without seeking I find
In the fellowship of my Camelot
Not ruby nor for magic shield
Would I these golden hours yield
Ever Love
May love ever be this
The whisper of a kiss
The gold of setting sun
And hope for everyone
The mist at break of day
Good health along the way
The silence of an hour
The beauty of a flower
The tender joy of night
Erasing every blight
And children with a smile
All growing without guile
The rainbows of the skies
The color of your eyes
The waves across the shore
'Neath starlight evermore
Of dreams within your reach
For those we seek to teach
Let love - yes - ever love
Mean all the things above
May love ever be this
The whisper of a kiss
Secrets
Among things past and long forgot
Swirl in wild array
A host of cherished memories:
Tender, gay, yes even sad
Straining to break the shackles
That bar a fleeting flight
To moments short and bright
Where hopes and dreams
Once shown along the way
Revealing sacred icons
There guarded by the heart with love
Christmas at Pinehurst
By velvet fairways longleaf pines stand guard
Their scented needles waving as we pass
Lights wink and blink along the boulevard
Where busy shoppers Yuletide gifts amass.
We who by birth and marriage ties are bound
Have gathered here to reminisce and share
The joys of life so old yet newly found
Of health and happiness beyond compare.
Think now of others, those in greater need,
And mindful of One wise men came to see
The season's great commandment fully heed
So live that we may share His legacy.
The calming peace flows from the star of old
Still healing all who would its light behold!
Grandpa's Gift
Come take your place where in the line we stand
For there are words of counsel I would share
To bring you surer feet on shifting sand
To fully live and yet avoid the snare
Shun not the trials that serve to bring you strength
We often find we're strongest when most weak
And find road's breadth less useful than its length
When promised help from up above we seek
Should anger cherished friendships put to test
Advance the extra mile to make amends
And when you reach for stars to be the best
Use only means compatible with ends
It's links of love that forge life's golden chain
It's giving ever yields the greater gain
A Giving of Thanks
I walked in the Garden alone
To thank Him for gifts I have known
Yet echoing my words of praise
It's His loving message that stays
I thank you Lord:
For life and the food that sustains us.
Yet what of the many that hunger?
For clothing and housing that shelter from storm
Yet what of the naked and homeless?
For family and friends to share joy and our pain
Yet what of the friendless and hurting?
For freedom to worship and choose those who rule
Yet what of the nameless in cells without number?
For blessed America and our beautiful flag
Yet what of the migrants without banner unfurled?
If truly we seek for the soul of Thanksgiving
We find verily it is naught but Self-Giving
A Habitat Blessing
This day we pray a blessing on this place
Beseeching Him from whom all blessings flow
That they who sleep beneath its roof may know
The calming peace of all-sufficient grace
Horizons
Hand-in-hand I see us strolling
You and I
Together in the ever by-and-by
'Til the sum of our tomorrows
Have become the long agos
The Days of Her Life
With grace she moves the minutes of her day
As loving wife and mother not forestalling
The sharing with the many by the way
The artful gifts that are her special calling
Tribute: Miriam My Wife
She nobly walks life's way from day of birth
A gentle child from loving union wrought.
Who through her splendid days upon the earth
The gift of love and friendship to us brought
So prompt to help wherever help is needed
She without quarrel will walk the extra mile
No neighbor's cry has ever gone unheeded
With all she shares an ever winsome smile
Her spirit shines in utter radiancy
In role as tender mother, gracious wife
Along the way I hear her song, as she
Plants flowers in the garden of my life
Who knows of goodness sent from heaven above,
Of goodness knows who has not known my love?
Among the repeaters in this category I would simply note that Christmas at Pinehurst seems to have shown some staying power. It appeared in The Pilot at Christmas 1991. The Village Chapel used the poem in its bulletin for the 1993 Christmas Eve service. Then, surprisingly, in March 1994, the editor of the Chapel's letter to the congregation ran it because "It has a message for all seasons and I know you will enjoy reading it again." This led to a request that I write something special for the letter to the congregation to appear in the 1994 Thanksgiving season. The Giving of Thanks was the response.
Ever Love came from a stranger seed. One night, what seemed like the night through, my mind heard repeatedly a very simple melody, which on waking I kept humming. Come early morning, I set down seemingly appropriate words for this tune, which to this day has not found wider aural expression.
Moments spent with my three-year-old great grandson Mitchell led me to picture what is set forth in Gardens.
In the summer of 1994, the Men's Golf Association of The Club at Longleaf held its first member-guest tournament. I was asked to write something appropriate for the occasion. Hence: Golfer.
Secrets was suggested by the longer French poem Les intimities written by my uncle, Paul Rudhardt, Geneva, November 1898, which poem served as an introduction to a collection of his poems published under the same title. After several unsuccessful attempts on my part to translate his poem into English, I took the germ of his to write my own.
The Days of Her Life is a poem written originally on my wife's birthday, reflecting my admiration for the ease, the grace, the happy spirit, with which she usefully fills the hours of the day. I have used it again, in a sense, to show my gratitute to other women of my immediate family who display such gifts, that they too may know of the pleasure they bring to others by coping with life as they do.
Horizons is the look forward, as expressed on my wife's 80th birthday.
As for the inclusion of Miriam, I cannot envision presenting poems on any subject, least one dealing with love, without again paying homage to the one who has been and remains my life's greatest blessing.
PAB 1996
Gardens
Come take my hand, little friend; you and I
Shall walk the golden garden lane
Where others have at other times
With love sweet scented flowers placed
Then come again, and you and I, in turn
With love shall sow sweet seed that others may
At other times when hand in hand, walk by
And reap the scented beauty of our deed
Golfer
Come join me in still one more round
For the game has bid me return
Where challenges ever abound
It's for daring and sharing I yearn.
Where else can such pleasurable play
Midst sweet scented pines on the scene
Surpass the roll of the fairway
As it slopes from tee-box to green?
Yet verily what comes to mind
As I take stance for the next shot
Is the joy without seeking I find
In the fellowship of my Camelot
Not ruby nor for magic shield
Would I these golden hours yield
Ever Love
May love ever be this
The whisper of a kiss
The gold of setting sun
And hope for everyone
The mist at break of day
Good health along the way
The silence of an hour
The beauty of a flower
The tender joy of night
Erasing every blight
And children with a smile
All growing without guile
The rainbows of the skies
The color of your eyes
The waves across the shore
'Neath starlight evermore
Of dreams within your reach
For those we seek to teach
Let love - yes - ever love
Mean all the things above
May love ever be this
The whisper of a kiss
Secrets
Among things past and long forgot
Swirl in wild array
A host of cherished memories:
Tender, gay, yes even sad
Straining to break the shackles
That bar a fleeting flight
To moments short and bright
Where hopes and dreams
Once shown along the way
Revealing sacred icons
There guarded by the heart with love
Christmas at Pinehurst
By velvet fairways longleaf pines stand guard
Their scented needles waving as we pass
Lights wink and blink along the boulevard
Where busy shoppers Yuletide gifts amass.
We who by birth and marriage ties are bound
Have gathered here to reminisce and share
The joys of life so old yet newly found
Of health and happiness beyond compare.
Think now of others, those in greater need,
And mindful of One wise men came to see
The season's great commandment fully heed
So live that we may share His legacy.
The calming peace flows from the star of old
Still healing all who would its light behold!
Grandpa's Gift
Come take your place where in the line we stand
For there are words of counsel I would share
To bring you surer feet on shifting sand
To fully live and yet avoid the snare
Shun not the trials that serve to bring you strength
We often find we're strongest when most weak
And find road's breadth less useful than its length
When promised help from up above we seek
Should anger cherished friendships put to test
Advance the extra mile to make amends
And when you reach for stars to be the best
Use only means compatible with ends
It's links of love that forge life's golden chain
It's giving ever yields the greater gain
A Giving of Thanks
I walked in the Garden alone
To thank Him for gifts I have known
Yet echoing my words of praise
It's His loving message that stays
I thank you Lord:
For life and the food that sustains us.
Yet what of the many that hunger?
For clothing and housing that shelter from storm
Yet what of the naked and homeless?
For family and friends to share joy and our pain
Yet what of the friendless and hurting?
For freedom to worship and choose those who rule
Yet what of the nameless in cells without number?
For blessed America and our beautiful flag
Yet what of the migrants without banner unfurled?
If truly we seek for the soul of Thanksgiving
We find verily it is naught but Self-Giving
A Habitat Blessing
This day we pray a blessing on this place
Beseeching Him from whom all blessings flow
That they who sleep beneath its roof may know
The calming peace of all-sufficient grace
Horizons
Hand-in-hand I see us strolling
You and I
Together in the ever by-and-by
'Til the sum of our tomorrows
Have become the long agos
The Days of Her Life
With grace she moves the minutes of her day
As loving wife and mother not forestalling
The sharing with the many by the way
The artful gifts that are her special calling
Tribute: Miriam My Wife
She nobly walks life's way from day of birth
A gentle child from loving union wrought.
Who through her splendid days upon the earth
The gift of love and friendship to us brought
So prompt to help wherever help is needed
She without quarrel will walk the extra mile
No neighbor's cry has ever gone unheeded
With all she shares an ever winsome smile
Her spirit shines in utter radiancy
In role as tender mother, gracious wife
Along the way I hear her song, as she
Plants flowers in the garden of my life
Who knows of goodness sent from heaven above,
Of goodness knows who has not known my love?
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