Verbenadale Gospel

 So bless’d to have been able to attend when it was active.

Needmore

 Needmore 

John Stokes

The day was drawing to a frantic close,

The miles of repeated pines to never end.

Far from Fargo, fuel beyond low,

When up ahead, one light flickering.

We rolled into the lone, little store,

The elderly lady rose from her rocking chair.

"We don't see many travelers in Needmore,

Mostly they rush past here."

While the gallons filled, she spoke of her life,

Stories of bee gums sweet up Deep Creeks,

Of long departed beau's courting her,

The Oak Grove weddings, kisses on cheeks.

She could have left this pass on by,

Moved on down to Lake City's grandeur,

But she chose to remain near the

grander stars in the sky,

Shunning shiny finery for the obscure.

Slowly she replaced the nozzle of the supreme,

To return to her silent, slow rocking.

We felt drawn to linger in this Needmore dream,

To make this too our final stop.

Later that evening at the Blanche motel 

We told the desk clerk of our journey

"Needmore? Old lady you tell?"

Why Mrs Elsie died way back in forty three."

 Bird song

John Clare Stokes

I thank Thee Lord

You made me red

Gave me a crown

And a black mask

To hide my head

 But dear Lord

Times I lament

This scarlet garment 

For it seems 

To cats

I’m great

allurement

Warner

 Warner Morgan..

Before our journey would begin we had to fuel up at the Sunoco on Noble, place of once under a dollar petrol. Standing there looking up toward the top of the hill, the fellow in front of us had "I know that person" written all over his face. It was about then Gerald shook my memory by saying "howdy Warner" and the gates were opened. It was Warner Morgan, my old 1974-78 Williston Memorial Hospital Maintenance Supervisor boss. We shared a few good memories and laughs of our days there, of George Amica asleep in the storage room, of Floyd Miller being the best Administrator, of not knowing how to drive Warners Ford truck's stick shift down to Ross Hardware....we could have talked on but tanks are quickly filled and we had miles to go before we slept....

Verbenadale

 Verbenadale....

perhaps the place of destination for me in the Lost in Levy is to the once vibrantly alive in old time gospel worship...the community church of Verbenadale. With each visit, the encroaching and eminent collapse draws nearer. This visit found someone posting no trespassing signs all about, in an effort to let the church building die in peace I suppose, keeping those who would pull a board or drape for memory sake. It looks as if the end is destined, that who ever owns the little church has no intention of restoring it. It has always been a source of consternation with me, that those with the funds, who hold these treasures in their grips, let them slip away, while we without, stand beyond the trespass line and watch. This is repeated over and over, with a little church at my home in Lake City, historical in value, used as a hay barn, no concern beyond feeding of the cattle.  We did not linger long here today. The sun had already passed from its walls and on toward Otis Bells place it set, somewhere behind the Harris home and gone.

Star carrier

 Star Carrier

john clare 

And from the blackness of darkness reserved forever

From the shadows of Remphan

Emerged a mysterious figure

Carrying in his right hand a star

And LO, this star which he held, went before him and came to

Rest where a young child lay.

And we redeemed

From Remphan rejoiced

Our wandering ceased

As he set his day star beside 

This child to arise within 

Our hearts.

Tiki

 Tiki

john clare 

Zackary, I trust you'd be pleased with Tiki,

Since you left I took her and 

Stripped her down to the bare aluminum

Then tenderly applied two coats of moss grey

Not quite the forest in your glory sixties

But the choice of Landon

I do not think you ever met

And who like you I shall never forget

We mulled changing the name

But a thought came from afar

And so we made a stencil and with the pencil, with care traced Tiki exactly as you had in the sixties, maybe even the fifties.

Tiki has been with me nearly all my days, certainly all of Landon's

We no longer attach the old white five horse Johnson, bearing your last name, it rests in the shed, it's gas-oil long bled.

Days like these after the washing, I take Tiki out to the sunny spot in the yard. And I take turns sitting bow and stern.

And I lay back and I think of Zack, and Landon and his son

And the passing on of Tiki,

Of the stamp tattooed on her stern

Telling all where she has been

And we float atop the green ocean.

Come, stranger band

 O Come Stranger Band

john clare 

I hired a band of strangers

To rife through my things

With strict instructions

To spare nothing.

They began with the tools 

Rakes, shovels, hoes

It all must go!

But I slipped in

And hid the dago

And the post holes

The Porter Cable

With a cord frayed;

They were dear to me

They were my daddy's.

And then the books 

They all must go!

The novels, the letters

The romance

But I snuck in

To make hidden stacks

Of poetry

Of love letters

Old commentaries 

John Wesley's journals

For they were dear to me

They long saved my sanity.

And then the bikes and boats

They all must go!

The Old Town, Mohawk,

Basso and Treks

Take them quickly!

But I loaded them

And hid the flotilla 

Along the upper Suwannee

The peloton along the trail

covered in palmetto.

And then the cameras and

Photographs 

They all must go!

The Nikons, the Canons

The Yashica, the color 

And the monochrome

Burn them! And so they did

For I figured, they were only

Loved by me.

I did sneak in the little Canon.

What began as seven meaningless piles

By night mysteriously shrank

And all was as it was before.

I paid the band of strangers 

With amended instructions to return

When I am cold and stiff

And all the stuff they could burn

But please, go up to the Suwannee and cut my flotilla adrift.

Eubanks cross

 Eubank's Cross

john clare 

The ole gospel minister

steeped in the hard shell

way did all he knew to

crack the nuts in the 

splintered pews.

It got so bad as one by

one the squirrels carried

the nuts away

that eventually

only one pew of a few

remained, 

 As far from

The pulpit

As possible.

Eventually ole Eubanks was

called on home to glory

and to this day

in September  they gather

up at the ole Hopewell

pull the splintered pew to the back

to watch that burning cross

march right across the floor

cracking every one of them.

Osprey Simply

 Osprey simply

The Osprey sped downstream 

No one was seeing 

As 

All were viewing

The alligators below

I started to let out a Tarzan scream

But I didn’t want to disturb

The Alligator viewing.

Imprisoned

 Imprisoned

Thanksgiving my thought 

Goes to family in prison

One over in Cross City

Literally

One in Bronson

In their cell of poor 

Decision

One in Guam

In the Alcatraz 

Of his own making

And myriad others

Not even realizing

The dank walls of

Pride and arrogance

Holding them in

Confinement.

To have

To have and to hold

Again you came in the early

Morning dream

And we were one

Facing the conjured

Shadowy judges

And we vowed to

Have and to hold

Til waking

We did part.