poetry Feel free to post any poetry you like

But COMAX....your avatar makes it very difficult to take you "seriously"! Haha. It's crazy and weird.

I know...

I try to be a little on the lighter side of most discussions... but I do have to be serious now and again....

I currently live in Holland...

I have never seen the piece you posted before. I also read this as a metaphor for a lot of tragic and unexpected circumstances in my own life. I am moved by the words you posted .... Thank you for posting it. I will print it and look at it from time to time. Thanks again, COMAX......

COMAX wrote:

I know...

I try to be a little on the lighter side of most discussions... but I do have to be serious now and again....

I currently live in Holland...

A Couple

I saw her across the street
She was the one to meet
At first there was no chance
Then I ask her to a dance
Without a thought it was ok
I jumped for joy it made my day

We went out that first time
From then on she was mine
The years went by so very fast
Some one said we wont last
We are still together
Thru good and bad weather

Leonard Wickens

Copyright ©2008 Leonard Wickens

A Stroll

Walking along side by side
A little slow from the years
But still a spring in a step
Holding hands like young lovers
Oblivious to others
It was easy to see the love there

Leonard Wickens

Copyright ©2008 Leonard Wickens

I like that one the best, wickens....true poetry....captures the emotions and paints a picture with simple words ....yet crafted so skillfully

wickens wrote:

A Stroll

Walking along side by side
A little slow from the years
But still a spring in a step
Holding hands like young lovers
Oblivious to others
It was easy to see the love there

Leonard Wickens

Copyright ©2008 Leonard Wickens

The Old Car

The car inside an old barn
It could tell you a yarn
Looking rusty and weary
The old man was teary
For the time had come
For the old girl to go
The memories they had
Made him fell sad

As the wrecker hooked up
He couldn’t look
The truck pulled out
The car on the hook
Down the road she went
To a place she was sent
To be broken in pieces
Her life now ceases

After a long while
He got back his smile
Maybe another car
Would be the things
To make his heart strings
Play a good tune

A car dealer phoned
He had a car
He couldn’t sell
The car seemed to tell
Him to make the call
He brought it over
And rang the bell
The old man came out
And said with a shout
That’s old Bessie
She has her soul
Now I feel whole

Leonard Wickens

Bub’s


My eyes are filled with tears
Because she has left and gone away,
Not even a good bye
God took her today.

My eldest sister Bub’s
I’m sure going to miss,
She hardly complained about anything
It’s going to be hard for us to live.

The last time I saw her
She was the same ol’ Bub’s to me,
Kidding and rushing around
The way she always wanted to be.

She has gone to be with
Mom and dad you know,
God pulled her card
And she had to go.

After today we’ll have her
Deep in our hearts inside,
And I’ll always be proud to say
Bub’s was a wonderful sister and friend of mine.

Dedicated to my late sister Viola O’ Reilly

Wrote on the day of her death……September 24, 2006

Author: Gary Paton (Gez) ……..Bub’s I’m going to miss you….

Potato Field



When I have to die, I would like to die after ice-out,

after the ground has thawed, on the kind of damp day

when you can smell loam in the air. And I would like

to be buried in Maine, in one of the potato fields

that fed my great-grandparents. I'd like for my sister

to pick up her guitar and sing one of her traveling songs,

while my children take shovels in their hands

and dig a deep deep hole.



Please, don't put me in a box.

And let there be no fancy flowers.

Just close my eyes and cover me with rich soil

that has grown potatoes. Let me become brown

and thick-skinned. Let me grow full of starch.

Then take me out of the ground,

hold me in your bare hands, and let me feed you.



Sophie Wadsworth

Any one know all the verses to :

In days of old
When knights were bold

Your Eyes

I used to look into your eyes
And see the sparkle of happiness there.
Now, when I look into your eyes,
I see sadness and despair.

I know that God will help you
Find a reason to smile, and then,
I will see the sparkle of happiness
In your eyes again.

Kelly Hader

Wooden Boats

I have a brother who builds wooden boats,
Who knows precisely how a board
Can bend or turn, steamed just exactly
Soft enough so he, with help of friends,
Can shape it to the hull.

The knowledge lies as much
Within his sure hands on the plane
As in his head;
It lies in love of wood and grain,
A rough hand resting on the satin
Of the finished deck.

Is there within us each
Such artistry forgotten
In the cruder tasks
The world requires of us,
The faster modern work
That we have
Turned our life to do?

Could we return to more of craft
Within our lives,
And feel the way the grain of wood runs true,
By letting our hands linger
On the product of our artistry?
Could we recall what we have known
But have forgotten,
The gifts within ourselves,
Each other too,
And thus transform a world
As he and friends do,
Shaping steaming oak boards
Upon the hulls of wooden boats?

~ Judy Brown ~

My Daughter


How can it be that when
I bent to kiss you good night,
My daughter,
A beautiful young woman
Lay where only yesterday
A little girl had been?
Where is my little girl with all her ruffles and lace,
and birthday party days, give way to the
Styling hair and make-up mirror
Of Saturday night dates?
Was it not only yesterday,
Crayons of all colors laid upon the table
Where now bottles of nail polish rest?
How can it be the buggy you filled
With so many dolls
has been set aside

Did you ever know the finger you
Wrapped yourself around was tied right to my heart?
It seems as though the ink has just dried
On the pages of your baby book
And here we are laughing over pages
In your year book.
How did the little bow shoes of a little girl
Become the high heels of a young woman on her way?
Such a little while ago you cried,
"Mommy, I'm scared", and now you whisper,
"Mom, don't worry I'll be fine."
When did the teddy bear you hugged all night
Become the photo of someone you've chosen for life.
How can it be the smell of baby powder
Turned instead to the scent of perfume,
The giggles of a little girl
Became the tears of a teen,
And the roses tiny fingers picked
Were treasured like the petals of a prom bouquet?
Wasn't it only yesterday ruffles and tea parties
Colored my world pink and today.
She is growing up before my eyes,
I can do nothing, this I realize.

It won't be long now before on her own she goes,
She will always be in my heart and thoughts, this I hope she knows.

A poem I had to memorize over 40 years ago. The last line is the one that resonates from that distant piece of memory work. I don't think people are asked to memorize poems anymore....too bad.

Matthew Arnold (1822–1888)


Dover Beach

The sea is calm tonight.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.