|
|
|
Best Poems From CHARLES M. MOORE
(1953 june)
|
|
| |
|
|
201.
|
The Easter Parade.
We all came along to the Easter parade
The girls with their bonnets and men with their plaids
And the children with baskets of chocolate eggs
And mothers home cooking for a family spread
We walked to the field where the old hayloft stands
With music being played by The Pioneer Band
Where granma and granpa caught many a glance
Blazing a trail at the festival dance
And the pie competition was drama indeed
As the judge said the winner was his little niece
And the Reverend stepped in to calm down all the fuss
Today is for Jesus, Not pies, And not us
Young men being boisterous sought some attention
From girls who quite simply just wanted affection
And avoiding their mothers, slipped quietly away
for the first teenage kiss of the Easter parade.
Charles M. Moore
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
202.
|
The final crush.
Shimmering over autumn leaves
the whispering of springtime breeze
brushing off the years of dust
the final love
the final crush
Admiration haunts your mind
one of a million and a kind
you blush to look and feel within
the tingle that torments your skin
Millennia have passed you by
you wondered how and wondered why
and sometimes you just sat and cried
and put away your childish sighs
You remember youthfull times
when spring was sweet and love devine
speckled shadows through the trees
that danced in splendour with the breeze
Sweet sensation nature brings
you want it all with everything
when bird song caused your heart to rush
the final love
the final crush.
Charles M. Moore
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
203.
|
The Great Olympian
From the darkness of obscurity
a spark ignites a flame
it burns like fire within you
and pulses through your veins
You fight to reach perfection
you feel the stars align
this point in time, this heartbeat
your destiny defined
A nations right behind you
the world awaits your name
this fire, this heart, this sinew,
The Great Olympian.
Charles M. Moore
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
204.
|
The happy angler
The happy angler one day thought
I think I'll get my rod
and go down to estuary
and get myself a cod
He rose around five thirty
the sky was looking good
his dear old wife was up all night
sorting out his food
He set off as the sun came up
down to his favourite spot
just inside the estuary
between the dunes and rocks
He perched himself quite neatly
as he made his first big cast
then sat and dreamed of what might be
a cod he hoped at last
He watched the sea, He watched the clouds
and he whistled his favourite song
he changed his bait and tried some flies
determined to go on
The sun went past, the wind did blast
the rain came tumbling down
the happy angler still stood fast
but little could be found
At last he thought I should go home
it's been a perfect day
I've tried my best that's no defeat
and one did get away.
Charles M. Moore
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|