We revisit Bellville, Florida today. The last remaining building that was standing in Bellville many years ago. The general store with the mail drop slot on the bottom right of the board window. The old Bellville Bridge over the Suwannee. I haven't returned here in years, anyone living in the area I would appreciate any history or updates you may have.
I like the rain
At least the plants do more
But all the same
I feel a bit poor
When the moon
I miss behind the cloud
W.B.Yeats
All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out
and old,
The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a
lumbering cart,
The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the
wintry mould,
Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in
the deeps of my heart.
The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great
to be told;
I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green
knoll apart,
With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made,
like a casket of gold
For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose
in the deeps of my heart.
Lysle Holden
September 6, 1981
Eve was created a part of Adam
And into history they did grow,
Leaders of Gods great creation
And what they learned is what we know.
They learned that sin has no virtue
Indulgence brings tears of pain,
Evil thoughts in the mind of man
Brings higher pressure in every vein.
The disregard for the word of God
Will lead us down a path so sad,
We will repent, for where we went
With Satan, with a mind half clad.
Gods laws are written on through ten
That guides us all to peace and love,
Where we may find eternal life
The olive branch, and little white dove.
Where the love of God
Feels free to expand,
Like a lovely dream of great extreme
Or aging wrinkles in a hand.
Where we will meet the ones we love
The greatest of all God could find,
Two souls of love and kindness
Two souls with a Christian mind.
So great their patience like the Lord
So great their faith they will endure,
No greater love for all mankind
No greater rememberance for evermore.
Many names live in Gods book of history
Like the acorns grew the mighty oaks,
God has planted two acorns for history
And named them, Clara and Luther Stokes.
Lysle Holden was a poet from Sopchoppy, Florida, a member of my fathers Evangelistic Association. This poem he wrote for my father and mother. I am searching for other poems I have that he wrote.
It’s the only cluster of yellow
It’s the only palm
It’s in a prominent place
Reminds me daily
As I leave
Of the possibility
That there has to be more
More than this route
Daily taken
Fog is out
Obscure the sun
Mute the land
My favorite landscape
Oh to be out in it
Rays defined
Glistening dew
On moored dragonfly wing
Everything
In a suspended waiting
July has bought along its fair share of trials. I find solace in the hummingbirds so far removed from the cares.
I remember the days of old
I meditate on all His works
I muse on the work of His hands.
Psalm 143:5
The little de Leon's moored
New worlds to be explored
Such excitement!
If I consume an entire box of Life
Perhaps I’ll decide
Oh, today is a day for play
Besides, I’m too young to drive
To work so far away.
by john clare
And is it any wonder
that only the smallest ones,
Can to the grand kingdom come?
Why the large in their own measure,
will not stoop so low to endure,
any diminishing of their height?
Tis but a pitiful sight,
to see the little ones joyfully scurry
through the eye of the needle gate,
while way above the giants berate
the little ones in such a frenzied flurry.
Childs play! they prudently say,
Hide and seek games not for us!
Men of renoun, we must rule the day!
Why all this foolish play?
And one by one the little ones enter low,
as outside the gate to beyond,
the grown-ups who refused to know,
As a child you must come.
