Thoughts from Yesteryear
April 29
1964
Like a burdened King in exile,
The torment of life; love is lost.
But sorrow not for it be solitude,
And there all things must end,
As crumpled, or as painted empires,
For only death takes life away,
And marks us down as all the same.
February
1964
I have not the need to speak,
For a friend need not hear,
T'would be he'd stand up to the best,
If my eyes reflected fear.
This life carves the molds of men,
From the kind of trees we hew,
We are not what we say we are,
We are the results of what we do.
March
1964
When a flower has lived a storm torn life,
It may have no blossoms to give.
Refrain from loving sweeter petals,
For blossoms can’t always live.
For what is a man’s proving point,
If it is not when the fragrance fades,
Tis time watch the younger bloom,
And seek not the beckoning glades?
If the man can love the flower’s hue,
Through times when blossoms are fair,
Then he is not a man when the blossoms fade,
If he turns to another for care.
WEDNESDAY – MARCH 18
1964
This day the season ended.
But it has left blossoms lying there,
All shriveled in the icy winds,
Without feeling, without care.
This day the glory has gone,
The blossoms are turning sour,
Passed by and all alone,
This sad un-treasured flower.
WEDNESDAY – MARCH 18
1964
2
Be kind, be gentle, go safely, be pure,
Walk not through the caverns of shadow.
Cherish your love for you have nothing more,
Than the sweetness of love’s thriving meadow.
Be wise, be thankful, be good, be true,
Take not a sweet petal for granted,
For each has a different kind of hue,
And each flower for a purpose was planted.
JANUARY
1964
They laugh at those
who are but dreamers,
and say what vain fools,
they are to dream.
But it is regretful,
that they know not what a dream is,
for they cannot see reality,
it would seem.
JANUARY 1964
KANGAROO VALLEY MOUNTAIN
There is a mountain in the valley,
I must climb,
Though l live forever,
and it takes all of that long time.
Tis not an untouched mountain,
With snow atop its peaks,
But its cliffs are built of freedom,
And the challenge that one seeks.
It is high above the cities,
Above the sea and plains,
Its face is marked with caverns,
To hide ones troubled pains,
I shall conquer thee, yon mountain,
Ere I ever be a man,
Then turn again to this cruel life,
To begin where I began.
JANUARY 1964
IT'S FUNNY
It's funny how you think,
you are different from the rest,
but lad, there's plenty like you,
Who think they are not the best.
Don't think you are feeling something,
That's never been felt before,
your difference is a virtue,
The same as the others wore.
Don't let the misunderstanding,
of yourself let you down,
For the hardest lad to get to know,
Is above those feet upon the ground.
Yet the more you think of others,
The more you see and do,
The closer to yourself you'll get,
And find out you are you.
FEBRUARY 1964
IF SOMEONE LOVES YOU
I f someone loves you,
as much as I do,
I hope he is a better man than I.
For none but the one,
You will always love
Is worth living with until you die.
FEBRUARY 1964
HEADING WEST
Silent now the day is dawning,
from beyond the mountain crest,
As the highway calls its warning,
This Tiger thunders to the west
From the treads the rubber snarling,
Wears away the streaks of road,
Hammering on and death defying,
Her engine throbs a lonesome code.
APRIL – 1964
My heart doth love.
Yet with meek sadness,
That for its own self even,
Cannot light a courageous candle.
For though temptations light be strong,
Fear be lightness dark,
And will yet prevail...for fear it is.
If you would take me not,
without my beckoning,
I'll be left in loneliness...
untreasured for a lifetime,
For speechless I be, at the sight of thee.
AUGUST 1954
Holy Stage
The clouded curtain opens
A starry sky I see,
The stage is set before me,
The Angels dance with glee.
Our mighty Lord of mankind,
Amid his Angels stands,
The moon above his holy head,
The stars laid in his hands.
The perfumed flowers and colored birds,
As his feet flutter and sway.
Behind him rises the setting sun,
To bring fourth another day
AUGUST 1957
Child at Rest
Cradled tenderly in gentle arms,
beneath a linen sheet
a bundle there of childhood,
laid quietly in his sleep .
Slumber on, my little one,
lest you should miss your rest ,
awaken when the Lord doth bid,
for he alone knows best.
Flourish at your mother’s breast,
Grow in loving care,
rise beneath her loving hand,
then a life of love you'll share.
MAY 1958
Sip only of my Wine
Sip only of my wine,
for I will not sip of thine.
Thank me not for what you drink,
express not what you think.
We'll take a toast for you, not me,
you are my guest so let it be.
When you leave I'll bid farewell,
Then you go off to where you dwell
Then alone I sip my wine,
For I will not sip of thine.
JUNE 1960
The Moon
A silver ship through heaven glides,
upon a silver sea,
With bow and stern and silver sides,
The moon it is to me.
The captain of the angel crew,
Keeps watch upon the glow,
As gracefully through endless blue,
She rolls smoothly to and fro.
Guided by the hand of God,
Through starlit silver sea,
Where all the evils only nod,
And turn their sterns and flee.
She sails to a seashore,
In an untouched harbour Gold,
Where no one has ever been before,
With evil in their souls.
She anchors at a Golden land,
More elegant than we know,
Where tis only by His Lordly hand,
That we shall ever go.
SEPTEMBER 1958
A Little Thought
One's mind forgets things of woe,
Like tragic wars that ever grow,
But do not forget a thing so rare,
As a friendship, that lingers ever there.
It takes no thought of time nor toil,
For time goes on and we still dig soil,
For it will always be while friends are near,
That a little thought will bring one cheer.
October -1957
Don't Judge
Why hate a man for what he is,
All men are not the same,
For you are not the very best,
So you've no right to blame.
Though he does wrong,
and knows he does,
And you know it too.
Think!! God made this man!
He is not one in few.
What he is he will not change,
So who are you to say,
Who is wrong and who is right,
In the end the bad will pay.
SEPTEMBER 1958
The Book Rack
Ten books stood proudly back-to-back,
Upon a polished library rack,
Between the two of seven and eight,
There stood a book of little weight.
It differed greatly from the other nine,
That had knowledge written on every line,
For twas entitled without one small doubt,
“Riddles”; laugh whilst you're about !
Greatly disturbed were the big proud books,
This little book had limited looks,
Imagine !! Among them in such poor state,
A book of “Riddles”, oh what a fate!
Timidly the little book just balanced there,
The book the others could not bear,
A book of knowledge could only smile,
While placed down to rest a while…
So now they conversed among themselves,
Thankful that others were on different shelves,
But of all the illnesses of their good grace,
T'was a book of “riddles” that shared their space.
But finally a decision was carefully sought,
This book of riddles was a new one bought,
So they decided to accept it on the rack,
And welcome it among them in the stack.
©Colin F Jones
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