Melanie at 62

 In the beginning

Happy birthday Melanie Stokes

Midway shade

 Midway Shade

Johnclarestokes 

Great, great grandpa was patient with 

Great, great grandma's complaint 

There was no shade in Midway

Every tree went to cordwood stacked highly

To stave the icy winter shadows long slant.

It was in the long slant great, great grandpa

Planted the Camphor 

Great, great grandma was pleased

She'd have summer shade, eventually

Rocking in the long slant hymn humming 

It was great grandma who told great grandpa

Impatiently

When are you going to fell the Camphor

The long slant of winter gives me shivers

And great grandpa would promise, eventually.

It was grandma who told grandpa wistfully 

Do you recall Midway before the shade

Of all the promises in winters slant made 

And grandpa would rock and nod, silently

It was pa who in the Spring came visiting

This is where once in cold slant I played

Before in Midway the promise was made

Ma just stood under the Camphor, agreeing.

And so in the winter I came with my bride

The Camphor towering over the home place

And the bride saw the long slant upon my face

Of promises made and promises that died

Eventually.

Midway Shade

Hydrangea for the pioneers

 Hydrangeas for the pioneers

Johnclarestokes 

The pioneers of Price Creek

have long since in their planting

tilling

toiling

Scraping some living

resting from being 

Wary of the Indian

Going off to help Finegan

stave the Ocean Pond

Invasion

amid the carved stones

One by one

We plant for them

reminders of home

petal portals

upon the thresholds eternal.

katie

 Katie

Johnclarestokes 

Perhaps I have met a living poet

Katie I once visited every Sunday

We called her group the R word

Before everyone became a bit

challenged with special needs

But Katie was the one person

who ever loved my three chord

Guitar playing

Or the harmonica serenade 

For sane ears not made

Katie at one Christmas party

Gave me a handwritten 

Bound book of poems she

Painstakingly penned 

in all caps it seemed

And in the years ensuing

And all the moving

The little book of simple poems

Went missing

And we quit going to Garden Park

On Sundays

And Katie I’m sure kept on

With her poems

I trust someone came into her

Life again

She could side up to and

Say, I just LOVE you.

Tell me

 Tell me

John Clare Stokes

Over me 

silently came the

Osprey

tell me

of the sky

of the sea

of earthly 

mystery 

tell me

said he

of the eye

of the beauty

of earthly

artistry

Tell me

Ciardi

 ciardi 

johnclarestokes 

I’ve yet to truly meet a living poet

Once I went to hear ciardi read

Especially the one of the scalpel

Or the knife

To cut and kill

Or to cut and heal

But mostly I’ve just read 

And wondered how 

The words they wrote

My spirit could cut, kill

And heal all at the same time.

Be thankful

 Count your blessings 

Melanie 2009

Orlando Regional

H1N1

Has God forgotten

 Day into day

Night into night

We wait for a sign

Perhaps today the sojourn

Perhaps today the arrival

A word from afar

A hope quite close

Are all the paths destroyed

Do all the watchmen sleep

Cold grows the land

Quiet goes the man

Threshold of Tirzah

 

Friday

I sit and drink coffee and procrastinate the  day. The washer and dryer need to be replaced and i groan. 

Branch Out

 Branch out

John Clare Stokes 

Become a branch manager

Or a Branch Davidian

Paddle with a Bending Branch 

Drink at the Long Branch

Pick a branch and let your mamma whip you

Withdraw all your money from the branch bank

Become a poet warrior and turn your branch

into a lance

Be brave and go out on a branch 

But before you do, be sure you’re on 

the branch of David.

Branches 

Johnson place 

Wellborn

Father and son

 A father and a son...upon Watertown Lake...it takes me back...when i took my sons...and grandson...here.