Rainbow Rain

Once on a twilight, solo stroll

Among the culminating hues,

I opened my mind for the private thrills

With which an autumn wood imbues.

Suddenly, in solitary spot,

Deep within one brilliant patch,

A potent wind, in quick surprise,

Rushed through full limbs to thus detach

The leaves, which fell so thickly down

On me, as in an autumn game,

Staying long in soft descent,

Thrilling me in rainbow rain.

~ Tom McFadden

Some Small Delight

Give me this day some small delight.

Some simple joy to cheer my soul.

A singing bird upon the bough,

A drifting cloud in sky’s blue bowl;

The pealing laughter of my child,

The glint of sunshine on his hair,

The feel of his warm hand in mine,

Of these dear things make me aware;

A blossom in the garden spot,

The music of the poplar trees,

The fragrance of a dew-washed earth,

What could enchant more than these?

Grant me the perception that I may

Live deeply through this chartless day,

And when I go to sleep tonight

Be thankful for each small delight.

~ Milly Walton

Faith's Octave

Dogging my footsteps are eight little paws,

Governed by faith and devotion's great laws,

Four for a terrier, foxy and white,

Four for a collie, now losing her sight;

Whether at typewriter, table, or den,

Going to be or arising again,

Always the eight little paws find the way,

Whether in morning or late in the day;

Whether a closed door has barred them 

from sight,

Whether the darkness has brought

on the night,

Softly and quietly, they are at hand,

Saying quite silently, "We understand."

Thus it has been for

the last fourteen years,

Thus it will be till for them

death appears,

What man could learn

about serving a cause --

Faith and devotion 

in eight little paws!

~ Alice Kennelly Roberts

Prayer for a Friend

Let me be worthy to love thee, friend,
as purely as I should
With the strength of my devotion
inspiring me to good.
Let me serve thee in the menial tasks
that others deem too small,
Striving in my effort
to please thee most of all.
Let me learn to step aside, dear friend,
should others have a need,
Relinquishing possessiveness,
resisting selfish greed,
Knowing well the ties that bind us
are too strong to break apart
As I cling to tender memories
from the garden of my heart.
Let my love be not demanding
but rather let it be
Like a rainbow on thy pathway
ever leading back to me,
Full of golden dreams and laughter,
ever faithful to the end;
Oh,, teach me how to love thee
and be worthy of thee, friend.

~ Evelyn Kintop

A Friend

You came by today,
Bracing as a cooling breeze;
Like the fresh water pouring
From a freely gushing spring.

Soon I was refreshed;
Lifting my head, I could see
Things not seen before -
Mellow autumn leaves, and swift
Sudden curve of bluebird's wing.

~ Carolyn Kimzey

Snapshots

Some folks have family albums

With pictures neat and nice.

For us the tattered shoeboxes

Still seem to quite suffice.

Old snapshots shared with loved ones

Bring back fond memories

Of "Good Ole Days" when we were young

"Hold still! Now smile! Say cheese."

These treasures in a shoebox

Are dog-eared, crackled, and old;

But childhood memories relived

Are worth their wait in gold.

 ~ Martha Mastin

Echoes of My Mind

The echoes of my childhood

Call out in memories.

And bring back friends of yesterday

That I long to see.

In the crowded hallways of my mind,

We linger after school,

Or drink old-fashioned sodas

Atop soda-fountain stools.

Ballgames are played, sock hops are danced;

My but those were the days!

When car hops worked on roller skates

And jukeboxes were the craze.

How I miss those days of old

When friends were genuine.

Yet I still have them here with me,

In the echoes of my mind.

~ Brenda Johnson

Another Day

The joy of yet another day
To work, to play, or while away,
To feel the warmth of sun on high,
To watch while lofty clouds drift by,
To gaze upon the verdant land,
To see the mighty forest stand,
To gather moss along the stream,
To rest and take the time to dream,
To pick a rosebud fresh with dew,
To know each day will start anew,
To smell the sweetness in the air,
To have someone with whom to share,
To capture moonbeams from the sky,
To hum a tune from years gone by,
To dance with fairies from afar,
To make one wish upon a star,
To love, to laugh, to hope, to pray,
To know the joy of yet another day.

~ Judie Harding

The Quiet Friendship

Friendship of old men is a quiet thing,

Textured of memory and faith unspoken,
Winter and summer mornings dawn and wing
Into the past without a sign or token.

When two old men sit on the porch together,
Watching the shadows of the evening thicken,
Exchanging scattered words about the weather,
They feel a silence as the night winds quicken.

One of them left alone will show no trace
Of grief nor walk across the bridge that lies
Between the small town and the burying place,
Yet sometimes an old man will feel his eyes
Fill with quick tears if he should chance to meet
An old friend's son along the village street.

~ Grace V. Watkins

We Cannot Tell the Precise Moment

We cannot tell the precise moment when a

friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel

drop by drop, there is at least a drop which makes it run

over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at least one 

which makes the heart run over.

~ Samuel Johnson

A Cup of Tea

Nellie made a cup of tea,

Made and poured it out for me,

And above the steaming brew

Smiled and asked me, "One or two?"

Saucily she tossed her head;

"Make it sweet for me," I said.

Two sweet lumps of sugar fell
Into that small china well,
But I knew the while I drained
Every drop the cup contained,
More than sugar in the tea
Made the beverage sweet for me.

This to her I tried to say
In the golden yesterday -
Life is like a cup of tea
Which Time poureth endlessly,
Brewed by trial's constant heat,
Needing love to make it sweet.

Then I caught her looking up,
And I held my dainty cup
Out to her and bravely said,
"Here is all that lies ahead;
Here is all my life to be -
Will you make it sweet for me?"

That was years ago, and now
There is silver in her brow.
We have sorrowed, we have smiled.
We've been hurt and reconciled,
But whatever had to be,
She has made it sweet for me.

~ Author Unknown

My Old Friend

You've a manner all so mellow,

My old friend,

That it cheers and warms a fellow,

My old friend,

Just to meet and greet you, and

Feel the pressure of a hand

That one may understand,

My old friend.

Though dimmed in youthful splendor,

My old friend,

Your smiles are still as tender,

My old friend,

And your eyes as true a blue

As your childhood ever knew,

And your laugh as merry, too,

My old friend.

For though your hair is faded,

My old friend,

And your step a trifle jaded,

My old friend,

Old Time, with all his lures

In the trophies he secures,

Leaves young that heart of yours,

My old friend.

And so it is you cheer me,

My old friend,

For to know you still are near me,

My old friend,

Makes my hope of clearer light,

And my faith of surer sight,

And my soul a purer white,

My old friend.

 ~ James Whitcomb Riley

School Begins

With summer tan aglow on freckled faces,

With hands scrubbed clean that were (and will be) black,

They tumble in and take their schoolroom places,

Half eager, half reluctant to be back.

I meet them in my best schoolteacher fashion,

I let them ramble on about their fun,

Then try to make them work with that same passion

They always give to playing in the sun.

Outside the summer melts in autumn haze,

A locust drones his homage to the light,

A warm breeze blows across the meadow-ways;

The children's wistful eyes are misty-bright.

And while their gaze is fixed beyond the door,

I have to teach them two and two are four!

~ Eleanor Graham Vance

Of School Age

She brushed his hair and pressed upon his brow
A kiss, then flicked a raveling from his coat.
Bye, bye, she waved, but something in her throat
Shut off the words, and vision failed her now
As hesitatingly he went and then
She saw him swallowed up among the youth
Enroute to school and realized the truth -
That he would never be the same again.
But she would always have the memory
Of love-filled days, his darling babyhood.
And if he only grew up to be good,
Then facing her responsibility
She looked out bravely through a well of tears
And prayed for guidance through the coming years.

~ Maude Woods Plessinger

A Little Red School House

Once long ago a schoolhouse stood
Beneath tall trees of cototnwood;
A small school in a trampled yard
By years of childish footbeats scarred,
A fence, a stile, a wide-plank walk,
All marked for games with blackboard chalk.

A handbell with discordant din
Would summon straggling children in;
Reluctantly, with backward looks
They turned to learning gained from books -
Some lessons of a formal make
To add to those of "give and take."

In retrospect, I still recall
The corner stove, the windowed wall,
The board's expanse, dull black and wide,
With cloak-rooms ranged on either side,
And rows of desks for every grade,
Where future citizens were made.

The years have rapidly passed on -
The small red schoolhouse now is gone.
But since it was, it can but be
An instrument of destiny
To all whose memories still know
That little school of long ago.

~ Ruth Jenner

The Children in Autumn

They are unconcerned with autumn now, the children

Playing beneath this sudden blazing of the maples.

Autumn might just as well have come, for all they notice,

To the Far Pacific's islands or the boulevards of Naples.

I hear them playing loudly under the reddening myrtles

The games they played when April captured the whitening park;

Their signals are all the same and their laughing  playmates even,

But they do not see the embers of leaves that light the gathering dark.

Autumn is fast upon us, their elders, who carry its name in our talk,

Who sensed it before the turning of a maple leaf or the sumac,

Before a scarlet cinder fell from the salvia's stalk.

~ Daniel Whitehead Hicky

The Dog (As Seen by the Cat)

The dog is black or white or brown

And sometimes spotted like a clown.

He loves to make a foolish noise,

And Human Company enjoys.

The Human People pat his head

And teach him to pretend he's dead,

And beg, and fetch, and carry, too;

Things that no well-bred Cat will do.

At Human jokes, however stale, 

He jumps about and wags his tail,

And Human People clap their hands

And think he really understands.

They said "Good Dog" to him. To us

They say "Poor Puss" and make no fuss.

Why Dogs are "good" and Cats are "poor"

I fail to understand, I'm sure

To Someone very Good and Just, 

Who has proved worthy of her trust,

A Cat will sometimes condescend -

The dog is everybody's friend!

~ Oliver Herford

Song of Gray Things

In any weather, any day,

Much is lovely that is gray -

Driftwood smoothed to satin by

The tide's cool fingers, early sky,

Lichen stars that lightly dapple

Stone walls around an apple

Orchard, birch bark, and the thin

Warped rails of fences holding in

Reluctant meadows, kittens' fur,

Dried wild grasses sweet as myrrh,

As well as cobweb lace on eaves,

Sudden wind in willow leaves,

And pigeons proudly marching down

The slanted rooftops o a town.

~ Elizabeth-Ellen Long

Praise Will Transform the Humbled Dwelling

Praise will transform the

humbled dwelling into a

hallowed heaven.

~ Frances J. Roberts

House of Dreams

Now let us build, my dear, our house of dreams,

Far from the crowd, far from the city's blare;

Where mighty forests breathe untainted air,

Where smoke can never dim the morning gleams.

This road shall lead to sweet serenity,

All cares and burdens lightly cast away.

Great sycamores will shield by night and day;

The sun and stars alone our lives shall see.

There peace shall be; amid the garden gold

Our hearts shall learn of beauty's loving lore;

In daisy fields we shall again explore

The storied realms of youth and blithely bold

Shall venture forth beneath a larger sky

And talk of faith and heaven and feel God nigh!

~ Thomas Curtis Clark

Good Neighbors

Without reward or thought of praise,

They do their work in quiet ways:

Homemade soup, fresh-baked bread,

The pillow smothered for the head,

Garden flowers brought in when

The veil of grief is heavy. Then

They leave in silence, having done

The little things that hold the sun.

~ Hannah Kahn

Neighbors

Some folks can move away and then they're gone.

And when they are, you scarcely can remember

The sort of way their life was patterned on,

And if they left in August or December,

Or how they looked - how easy they were making it,

Or if their hand was arm and firm on shaking it!

Strange how they took their lives and drifted on -

Once they were here, but when they're gone, they're gone!

But other folks can leave and still remain - 

Seems like their ways, once loved, are here forever.

The way they spoke or smiled is clear and plain;

Their fellowship from yours no miles could sever.

They made their place, and once they finished making it

There's no erasing, blurring, nor forsaking it!

Steady and clear the fires of friendship burn,

That heart and hearth shall welcome their return!

~ Esther Kem Thomas

To a Dear Friend

I heard a woman say, "Oh, there can be

Too much of anything," and thought of rain

And sun-bright wind and mountains and the sea.
"Why, even quietness or laughter can

Become a comradeship too full and wide.

Perhaps she's right," I told myself and sighed.

I thought that later I would query you;

But when we stood upon a twilight slope,

Companioned by a rising star, I knew

Without a phrase or word that love and hope

And trust and faithfulness, and all of such

Infinities, could never be too much.

~ Grace V. Watkins

Friendship

Friendship needs no studied phrases,

Polished face, or winning wiles.

Friendship deals no lavish praises;

Friendship dons no surface smiles.

Friendship follow nature's diction,

Shuns the blandishments of art,

Boldly sever truth from fiction,

Speak the language of the heart.

Friendship favors no condition,

Scorns a narrow-minded creed,

Lovingly fulfills its mission,

Be it words or be it deed.

Friendship cheers the faint and weary,

Makes the timid spirit brave,

Warns the erring, lights the dreary,

Smooths the passage to the grave.

Friendship - pure, unselfish friendship -

All through life's allotted span,

Nurtures, strengthens, widens, lengthens

Man's affinity with man.

~ Author Unknown

Never Burn Kindly Written Letters

Never burn kindly written letters; it is so pleasant

to read them over when the ink is brown, the paper

yellow with age, and the hands that traced the

friendly words are folded over the heart that prompted them.

~ from The Royal Gallery, 1897

Letters From Absent Friends

Letters from absent friends extinguish fear,

Unite decision, and draw distance near.

~ Aaron Hill

Correspondences Are Like

Correspondences are like small -

clothes before the invention of

suspenders; it is impossible to

keep them up.

~ Sydney Smith

A Stray Volume of Real Life

A stray volume of real life in the

daily packet of the postman. Eternal

love, and instant payment.

~ Douglas Jerrold

Blessed Be Letters -- They Are the Monitors

Blessed be letters -- they are the monitors,

they are also the comforters, and they are the

only true heart-talkers.

~ D.G. Mitchell

It Is By the Benefit of Letters

It is by the benefit of letters that absent friends

are in a manner brought together.

~ L. Annaeus Seneca