My
Scotty
I have a little dog,
He's as sweet as can be.
He cocks his head and
Wishes maybe he were me.
He's a Scotchman thru and thru,
That little dog of mine.
I only wish he knew
How my heart and his entwine.
Though I scold him now and then,
His tail forever wags anew.
I know I will have one friend,
When ever I'm lonesome and blue.
copyright@ Carol Hall
Thoughts
Crystal thoughts though clearly
projected,
Reach objects of density mishappen
Forms of letter by letter, word by word;
enter in and out, around and under.
Some to soothe, some to stir, and there are,
Some unlike any other.
Me thinks I've caught many I shouldn't
Tipping the delicate scales of reason.
Opening the hands of my calender's prison
I step around those thoughts not meant for me.
I listen, I observe, I enjoy all I need,
For today is all I have to fulfill.
Yesterday was only part of my earth's season,
Tomorrow is as far as my mind's improved visions.
copyright@ Carol Hall
Praise & Glories (Praise)
My land this earth I call home,
How still the evening starlight sky.
Held deep within memory's eye,
The images so swiftly flown.
Of birth, of life, death and song,
Sung in full voce all around.
To those who feel to beauty belong,
A chorus of praise and glories found.
My small portion of allotted time,
Stills the triumphant beat of false pride.
Though all god may not be mine,
The fact that I tried affects the tide.
copyright@ Carol Hall
Today's Easter Parade
What does Easter mean to you?
Is it velvet soft kisses of lips only 2 years old,
Breath fresh with still-warmth of heaven's dreams,
Sleepy lids fluttering open toward another day's growth?
Or is it hope soon abandoned with additional years,
When youth's dream is bent, twisted and battered,
Into a lump of modern-day conformity?
Where did the Easter day young one go so quickly?
Was he here only in my mind?
Or is the moisture on my cheek the only reality,
Of time's joke and man's ego ridden ghost?
TO be pulled into the Easter parade of today is sad,
When tomorrows beckon a better parade than ll that's gone.
copyright@ Carol Hall
The Voice of Thanksgiving
Softly reigns the tapered candles
glow,
Over this our Thanksgiving Day's table.
In order, first of time and place,
Head of the family, smiling Dad.
Sister Ellen, brother Jack and Aunt sue,
Uncle Thomas, cousin Annie and abay Fred.
Then mother opposite her mate of forty years,
And Grandma, spry at 92 and remembering,
Grandpa recently laid to rest.
After brother Ted and sweetheart Carrie,
Comes neighbor Bill as special guest.
Hush of prayer time descends on all,
As dad signals for quietness and heads to bow.
"Almighty God, we give thanks this day,
Of harvest and life most abundant.
May our hearts be open to Thy great love,
Joy, peace, beauty and tranquility.
We are mindful of Thy goodness to each his own.
And pray for all those who are in need.
May their sorrows be turned to joy,
Their unspeakable sadness be swept away.
We thank Thee for being with us each day,
A buckler, comforter and our evening star.
May we follow thee always close and ever,
Nearer to Thy circle of chosen saints.
Hear our most earnest prayer for world peace.
Amen"
copyright@ Carol Hall
The 50 Year Race
The summer of 1941 we began at
last,
In the race set before us on our time's path.
Ours was to be star-spangled by Dec. 7th war,
Taking many classmates and friends afar.
The ones left behind engaged in production lines,
Special assignments and support troops.
War bonds, shortages, makedos and signs,
Of victory on European and Western loops.
Coming home enmasse to parades, hugs and tears,
Of joy for those lucky to have survived.
We counted classmates "lost and missing" fears,
Narrowing our group's influence contrived.
Our culture of small town comfort forever turned,
By growth and influx of newer ways,
Challenged again by 1950 Korean War we learned,
Peace hard to come by and shelter froo our days.
To 60's burst upon us with Viet Nam,
Violence and military criss-cross plus.
The Beatles and rock music bing-bang-bam,
Shaking our mid-life thinking of the U.S.
We paraded, face racial dissent and dope,
To make progress toward equality and design.
Ours was a larger challenge in scope,
Than ever before in 50 years previous time.
Our children, our grandchildren and certainly theirs,
Will read of our efforts and Dessert Storm cares.
A tribute to grand parents and teachers we had,
Who we appreciate in "better late than never" fad.
copyright@ Carol Hall
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