It was just a plain white Indiana farmhouse,
With a hallway and bedroom with pale wallpaper.
A bit of a darkened parlor and a soldier boy's picture
Displayed prominently on one wall.
A farm kitchen with the real front door,
Inside, a rocking chair awaits pa and a
Pot-bellied hot stove awaits supper
Once ma gets off the phone.
Heard about our boys? Heard about them overseas?
What did you hear from Ernie today?
What did he write from the front?
Many boys never came back to these solid old farmhouses,
Many slept in the water off Omaha Beach,
Some slept in Italy, with their men
Gathered around them to say goodbye
Others slept on le Shima on the other side of the globe.
They all slept and back at home A small gold star is all that's left.
She is slow,
she is halting,
and in a physical way
she is handicapped.
She can't do what you and I do:
drive a car, ride a bike,
run a mile, sew a stitch,
have a job.
But she holds no grudges,
knows no hate,
hugs those who are kind,
loves those who are near
and we call her…
retarded.
Hush, stammer, "hi",
Yes, what would you like?
Said I.
Play a love song for me,
from me to her, oh please,
Play a love song for me.
She's my girl,
but I can't say it,
I really like her,
I admit it.
Okay, young man,
I'll follow your plan
for your girl and you
I'll play a special
song for two.
I hope the little girls
don't mind if I play guess who
with their eyes,
and be nice on their birthday
and buy them cards
and kiss them if they don't mind.
Some think me sick,
demented, strange,
lonely.
I never harm the little girls.
They're sunbeams, yes they are.
They shine in my life,
My lonely janitor's life.
There it nestles,
in a valley,
village out of time
Famous for a drinking tanner,
failed, broken, unsuccessful
'til his country called.
Called to pull together
land torn apart by slavery's strife
and pulled together only by force of arms
From the town of lead mines,
to fields of battle he went,
Honest Abe could not spare him,
this bearded man, he moved.
Think of this man,
and his village
when you hear the Hymn,
Forget the divisions
of the years
that have gone since then.
I see you in the hallway,
A chipper, pretty girl
you're someone who I'd
like to kiss.
I'd like to love you
In each season
as they whirl,
please be my girl,
You're someone who
I'd like to kiss.
You were only here,
a little while,
before you had to leave.
It may seem wrong to the world,
but it was all God's will,
to make you a little
flower
in His heavenly bouquet.
You said you'd give Jesus
a hug and a kiss,
when you got to heaven.
Do us a favor,
hug and kiss Him for us,
please.
I looked up from my desk,
and saw a road.
I know where it leads.
It leads to places
I've been before,
and others beyond.
Places that I've never seen
That I'd like to.
They say they all become
the same, those faraway
little towns
look the same, act the
same,
sound the same.
I go back to what I'm
studying,
my different little tasks.
Other places look different
only when you've seen
the same ones too many
times.
She eternally sleeps,
forever 17,
In the ground
beneath Poseyville.
Just a face in the crowd
which vanished too soon,
Just another girl at the game,
Just someone else.
Watching the boys on Friday night
or the girls on Thursday
Gone now, so sad,
So young, so unfair.
A snowman arose by her stone,
then a heart,
Flowers, a cross,
A soft drink,
a cardboard cake.
A rose, a warning,
Buckle up, be safe
Wherever she is
does she know
How much we still love her?
Did you like Patty Beck?
the saddest words
I've ever heard.
In long lost days
of adolescent ways
she was my dream.
An angel in burnt orange,
a puffy grin, a shy boy's wink
the things we made the other kids think.
Did you like Patty Beck?
Funny it seems,
in lonely dreams,
Of love unfilled,
but never stilled,
Yes, I did.
Small hands that
hold each other,
being teased by
sisters and brothers
A sneaky kiss
by a two-legged mouse
a boy, a girl,
a game of house
Cartoon valentines, to little misses
"I think you're cute," and candy kisses,
A giggly glance,
little romance
It's love, but
not bold,
at only seven
years old.
I saw you again last Saturday,
Again and again
Bicycling on the street,
At the phone in the library,
in line at the Dairy Queen,
Again and again.
Don't I ever forget,
a beautiful blonde
with a lot of spunk,
you chased me on the playground,
you called me on the phone.
Did I tell you that
I kissed you?
You didn't know?
It was just a dream.
I won't mention your name
there are too many others
with it, and they can't understand,
I accidentally mentioned
you once.
You don't suppose
I was thinking…
A century apart,
Two men,
Two towns
in Illinois
A bearded lawyer,
a small-town baker
The first the second's ideal
A tall, gaunt President
when the land came apart
A white-maned Senator
a leader of Congress.
A century apart,
these statesmen,
A giant admired
by another.
These Gallant men,
they don't make them
like that anymore.
It's a sunny summer day,
In a high-tech world
As we enter our grandma's world,
across the storm-drain creek.
There's a player piano,
a little toy train,
an old wood-burner
from a farmhouse kitchen.
The cars that ruled the road,
a Packard sign beside them,
Where'd you see the new models?
In a very large barn.
Or maybe an old, large attic
In a place where just one step
takes you back
to a somewhat different time.
As I drive through the countryside,
The fall colors give off a muted glow,
A golden backdrop as the ground quietly
retires for another year
The Sun seems sharper now,
as the silhouettes of trees
provide no cover for it.
The shadows are now
as my car juts meteor-like
down a winding road.
Briefly I glance over the rolling hills,
As I scurry about my various tasks draw
me away from the wonder around my view.
The sun settling in, dodging in and out of view.
On rainy days, the leaves become matted
and form a golden carpet which sticks to
the soles of your shoes.
When they dry, the leaves crunch and crackle.
So many times the leaves dance and in the wind
before falling, or skip across the ground in a
bright yellow whirlwind.
It's a glorious time,
when God dresses the creation in its
Sunday best before putting it to sleep
for another year.
A time to be reborn,
or look at faded dreams.
A time to be surrounded by beauty
for one last comfortable time
The cloudless skies are sharper
and the weather is cooler, but brisk.
The rainy days seem to have more
sadness to them, more gloom, however.
