Viceroy as Monarchs

 The Viceroy promenade 

While in fields in search of Monarchs 

I came upon two regal Viceroys

Seen any Monarchs? I asked the two

Quiet! They said, they think we are!

You made your bed

It would be grand if tomorrow I could tell a few, things will be better for you, tell others, you made your bed, I’m not buying you any Lindell Giza Dream sheets. 

Pappa Earnest

 Pappa Earnest

John Clare Stokes

So much from you my father learned

The time to get the garden in

The time for shade tree resting

I tried to learn from Lute pappa Earnest

The time to water the plants thirsting

The time to sit and watch the growing

There just wasn’t enough time pappa Urn

So so much I failed to learn

I think I shall find some shade for pondering

Knot me

 When I came to the end of my rope, there was a knot. I made not that knot, but it gave me hope. And so I shimmied up a bit, and on that knot did sit, swinging to and fro, Nowhere to go. Before long this man came along and said, "Why are you swinging out here all alone?" I came to the end of my rope, gave up hope, but at the end a knot, keeping me from a long drop. "I tied that knot friend, long before you began the descend. Now swing over to me but leave that rope. Many others are above you thinking there is no hope."

In morning’s memory

 Sometimes on Saturday’s, before the sun rises, I return to places, some now gone, where I can sit again upon the porch, see the little one upon the bike, listen to the granny tell of her times, the everlasting leaning, the safe and secures, drawing us, from the swing, from the porch, from the wheels spinning, from all alarms.

Wisdom in the shade

 Wisdom was found in the shade  Long spells of learning silence  Wordless hours I wouldn't trade  For all the words since.....my father and I never spoke much, we had a kind of silent understanding about one another, an acceptance. In the course of his ministry, most of his time was spent in talking and once home, he did not talk much. We always said if we wanted to know anything, just invite a church member over and we would hear all we wanted.  Most of my learning from my father came from working beside him as from a little boy he let me do much of the work. I used to groan when he would hand me the post hole diggers or the sugar cane machete, as all through his life up until his seventies he could easily outwork me.  We would sit in these old metal chairs in the blueberry patch beside the old Cracker house in the shade and listen. Ever so often he would sing lowly a hymn or play upon a harmonica, but mostly we would listen and observe.  It was never due to laziness for we usually were sitting after doing some tiring work and just basking in the satisfaction of a job completed . As I said in the poem, I would not trade these moments for all the words since.

Mimosa moon

 Mimosa moon

Whether in a trance 

Or whether it was romance

I couldn’t say

All I know is

I was caught up in

The Mimosa moon

Milwaukee Way

 Milwaukee way

Johnclarestokes 

It’s been a long, long time watching the moon

in await for that brief alignment of paths

be it ibis, vulture, crane or some plane

in the wane the Milwaukee to Orlando came

And the vapid opine why the waste of time

what if the paths so align 

and a sigh is exhaled and eyes cast askance 

in wish our paths cross with great distance

What of those in that blue Southwest cabin

were they craning to see that waning moon

why from Milwaukee would they travel down

Did they sense a watching from the ground? 

All we know is at a certain time all aligned

it’s not exactly profound in our frazzled time

I’m sure all around alignments are happening

I’m just one who captured this certain scene.

Morning Aubade

 Morning Aubade

The dawn awakes my love

The day comes upon us

Let us flee as the dove 

Come away my love

Come away

Gifts in Glory

 Gifts in glory

She and her husband have  since gone on to glory, the kitchen towel with the crochet to hang it on the stove she made, still hanging on my stove. 

This was at the moment of her giving me the gift.

She also gave me several fudge squares she made, foil wrapped. Now that gift is long gone, my ever widening expanse the only witness to the kindness.

Branford Clubbed

 There ole lame Magoo with a cane stood in the rain. The first to leave the Branford Camera Club awards ceremony at the Gateway Art Gallery - Art League of North FL Gallery. Those Branford Camera Club guys and gals sure put on a good show. Magoo was most impressed with John Middleton ‘s photo along with his other friends Robert Wolfe and Dave Champ who also won. It was back to the camera for Magoo, inspired by all who entered. Maybe he will try an African safari like Rachel Shelly, whose photo of a leopard got an honorable mention.

Mans of means

 Man of means

John Clare Stokes

Were I a man of means

Able to carry out my dreams

I'd reclaim remnants others

Let slip away

Allow them to live long beyond

My dying day

I'd take Verbenadale 

The little Country church

Out from Williston 

Falling down

Restore it down 

To the upright piano

The wooden pews too

In a few homes yet

The Prepare to meet thy God blue sign

The red muslin curtains

Make it a shrine

To a time

We danced beneath those leaning majestic oaks

With some colored folks

All decked in white

Doyle Crosby keeping time 

Grandma Pearl with the Knauff fan

In the cicada loud night

I'd take old Pilgrims Rest

Now in Sopchoppy

Move it from that garish spot

On Rose street

Find a shady old oak home place 

By the dark river bank

Cut that dog trot back to its former size

Find those two Camilla bushes

John Towles gave to Lucille

As a wedding gift

Replant them at the foot of

The front steps

Where they grew so long

One bearing white

The other red blossoms 

Surround the home with 

Scuppernong grapes and Bradford pears

Persimmons for possums 

Blueberries galore

Just as it was 

With a Georgia red sugar cane patch out back

The Golden mill

The 60 gallon Columbus kettle

Which is kept in storage

Restored to grind come November

As I remember

And the old stolen Gravely tractor

Surely with means

Find one like it

Restored of course

To its former glory

Just as I recall so often

Lord

Grant it? 

I know

Silently you watch it all rust and

Fall to the ground

So unconcerned with such

Dreams of means.