Journey with John Stokes

Sunday, September 20, 2026

Ten years after

Once two walked along the beach of Cumberland

amid the regal ruins of long burnt Dungeness

The gulls and terns led the way that day

Their pace slow to not let us lose our way.

Monarchs

Wouldn’t you think

If you were soon to die

To your known existence

You’d adorn colors of gloom

To enter the emerald tomb

But no, they meet it in creative

Fashion that brings joy

They must have been told

This is not your end as

in even greater glory they emerge

To lift in hues of vibrant orange-

yellows like little stained glass

windows offset in black

to rise far into the azure autumn

from beauty to beautiful

From Joseph like coats to robes

Of Monarchs

Saturday, September 19, 2026

Beyond Toar

Journey beyond Toar

john clare

Gently, gently the waters part,

Silently, silently we slip downstream.

In teardrop cradle the sailors embark,

Hush crickets! The little Pindar dreams.

Miles, miles the stream carries us along,

Tranquil, tranquil the mirrored ripple.

Above, the Cicada's con calma hum,

Sleep, sleep little ruddy sailor still.

Who? Who? Passes in tiny sloop?

Tis he! Tis he! The poet of streams!

Pass through my poetic little flute,

Old Owl sees why the waters sing.

Down, down goes the little canoe

Deep, deep through icy shoaled sea.

Awake tiny sailor, see us through!

Cause terrible Erebus to flee!

Still, still sleeps in tempest land,

Row, row we against Aeolus strong.

Into the gale rises a little hand,

Calm, calm again the beautiful song.

Thursday, September 17, 2026

Song of degrees

Johnclarestokes

I sing a song of degrees

From adjunct poverty

To stately royalty

I sing a song of degrees

From total blindness

To vision piercing

I sing a song of degrees

The heart of burning desire

The heart frozen entire

I sing a song of degrees

The childlike wonderment

The elderly wanting it

I sing a song of degrees

To roost

Reprise

Alligator Lake

Stokes Oaks

Johnclarestokes

Some folks take their oaks

For granted

They have always been

A part of

The family

Life has grown on

Never a thought for

The stately oaks

There once were oaks

In my life

Even had lightening rods

To appease an awesome God

But it was as a wife of Lot

Just grains of salt grating

Upon me now

As the Stokes oaks

Dwell among stranger folks.

Oak cluster

Williston

Wednesday, September 16, 2026

Thursday on the Dennis Prager male female hour on 107.5, his discussion centered around what are your first date turnoffs, things you see in the person that absolutely would make it a one night date? Things like, rudeness to the waiter, road rage, why did you hold that door for me, etc. On my first date with Melanie, I’m pretty sure hers was, does he love my cat with the same passion as he is displaying toward me?

Well, thank the Lord Cats were her first love and not dogs. For cats are pretty much non-committal in their love for any man, but not dogs. Dogs can read you. A dog would have betrayed my duplicitous heart and the rest would never have been history.

So when I spread just a touch of canned abalone tuna upon my then Nike running shoes, and Callie purred around my feet, well, I had her at hello. I was in, the cat “loved” me, so unusual for a cat that hated all men.

God has decreed

I don’t think I’ve ever seen

An angel encumbered with wings

I don’t think man can comprehend

Gods mighty beings

Who His praises sing

Who announce the things

God has decreed

Tell Me

Tell me

Johnclarestokes

Tell me mamma of the latter years

Tell me of the way it used to be

Tell me of your father’s family

Tell me of your joyous tears

Tell me of your love then new

Tell me of the stucco two story place

Tell me why one left without a trace

Tell me how you two made do

Tell me things I never knew

Tell me things I never remembered

Tell me of the presents of December

Tell me of the letters sent to you

Tell me over and over again

Tell me so I can tell it to my children

Tell me so when by graves I’m tearing

Tell me so I’ll forever hear you telling.

Christmas in Sopchoppy

Paula and John

1957

Fire ant

Not everyday did he come face to face with Matic Taxobox. But on the days he did, he always took comfort in the theory he was in the quantum realm and fire ant wasn’t.