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Scribe Page - Personal Writings

This page is going to be where I put my poems and other writings, and it will have drop down lists to send you to the appropriate pages.

For now, while I'm reconstructing the site, I will just include a couple of poems that I posted on Facebook over the last year.

All writings referenced on this page are © Paul L. White.

 

 

Facebook Writing Group
Theme: Out of the Corner
Of My Eye

Oh, how you shone, in afterglow
Of storms that hit so hard below
In early day, before you came.
And now you're playing artsy game

Of "peek-a-boo" with floating clouds,
Reflecting glory that enshrouds
The heavens with your heightened light...
And oh, kind Lady, what a sight!

Now, all my day is better spent,
As here, throughout, my heart is bent
T'ward memory of yon darkened sky,
And you in corner of my eye!

 

Corrie Ten Boom
April 15, 1892 - April 15, 1983

How I ached to read your tome
Which started out in lovely home,
Where all did share good manners, then,
And there was love so strong, and ken

In fixing watches, clocks, and meals.
But then there came Romance appeals,
And you great heartbreak did endure,
But still your faith remained so sure.

Then next the Nazi troopers came.
Your family did their best to tame
The angst in families who were Jews.
Potential danger you did choose

To give them freedom and a flight
To better lands, where leeway's light
Might shine for them each once again
Until you ended in the pen

Where father died from such abuse,
And sister too. And oh, how loose
Do flow my tears, as I recall
Your words describing this great fall

Of those who thought in noble ways,
But sacrificed in horrid days.
Still, then you knew great Fame's replace
Of suffering, and with torrid pace

You roamed the earth to tell the scope
Of your great faith, and love, and hope.
And I do wish you still were here
To fill us all with lovely cheer....

Alas, Miss Boom, the war goes on
Against those ones we thought had won
Their freedom to be simply "Jew."
Why can't we love them, others who

Are different from our social norm?
I do not know, but midst the storm
Of all this warring, I do smile,
Remembering your great force, and style.

So please, Miss Boom, do rest in peace.
We'll see you soon with our release!

 

President Geroge H.W. Bush
June 12, 1924 - November 30, 2018

She left us, and we wept so hard,
For she was kind and full of good.
We trembled as we studied you,
While wond'ring if, perhaps, you could

Remain and bless us on and on.
But you withdrew from earthly garb
Just when we, here, are Christmas bound,
Forsaking all to be with Barb.

So firm to fly in parachute;
So strong to rescue waters brave;
But when it came to life with her,
It was your own you quickly gave

That "reunited" be your claim.
And we are left to grieve once more.
It hurts to know we'll miss your voice
'Till we, like you, do cross that shore.

But rest in peace, Sir President.
Enjoy your love and romance vast...
While we do follow your great path
To find a love 'twas born to last.

 

First Lady Barbara Bush
June 8, 1925 - April 17, 2018

How I miss you, Lady First...
For faith, your love, your constant thirst
Only quenched by words on page.
How you fought the bitter rage

That some folks own in politics;
But you sure knew just how to fix
The wrath with humor, salient looks,
Which I presume you gained from books.

I read your "Memoir," Lady fine,
And learned to reverence every sign
Of Wisdom's wont to end dispute
With words that none would dare refute.

Enjoy your rest, we'll live somehow
And learn our fields to till, then bow
As you did often, in your years.
But as we till, forgive our tears.

 

September 11,
2018

I try to lay me down to sleep;
Instead I rise but for to weep.
It always hurts on this bleak day
When all of life seems far away

And only this comes to the fore...
Only this seems more and more
Unfair, and wrong, with such despise
For all that I've been taught is wise:

For Freedom's days, and Worship's ways
Of choosing one's own overlays
To right to reverence as we please.
Oh, will I ever take mine ease

Again in church, or synogogue,
Or temple, mosque? Will demagogue
Instill his will upon my soul
And leave me barren, never whole

With joy that I once knew back then
In childhood's freedoms, hopes, back when
The world was fresh with new delights
And I could celebrate my rights

In forums, be it class or field
With no one there unfair to wield
Demanding sword of narrow view?
Is now there this, this blade to hew

Away my nation's innocence
And force my mind to recompense
To some unknown for all I spoke
When I did celebrate my yoke

To One I must so deeply love?
Will this, the aircraft from above
Now silence me for all I am?
Now turn me into bleating lamb

Awaiting persecution's thrust
Of hatred's dagger? Oh, there must
Be hope that I can rise again
From bitter bed of tears and then

Bespeak my faith and love t'ward heaven
Without a single speck of leaven
To temper back my joy's sweet song,
Forbidding One for whom I long!

 

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This page edited on 5/19/2019
Copyright 2019, Paul L. White and HeroesWest.com

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