gratitude – Simon's still stanza

Late Allusions Among Frost and Others

This post is an apology to those who have written splendid comments, thoughtful phrases and lovely sentiments on my blog posts in recent weeks. So sorry to have not replied sooner!

I am very grateful to you all and hope that I have replied to each one. Life has been rather full of late and I was not able to give them the attention they deserve.

Speaking of late, there have been some fabulous poems written that include the theme “late” or something similar. Thanks to poemhunter.com for the excerpts and links.

Here is a excerpt from one of Robert Frost‘s – A Late Walk

I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.

Full poem here. Frost is often remembered for A Road Not Taken and Birches. But A Late Walk is splendid too, as is the poem!

Here is a fun one from Rebecca Ryan – I Am Always Late For School

I am always late for school;
The reason why is obvious.
I am always in the pool,
So much, it is obnoxious.

When I don’t get there on time,
The teachers there get mad.
But if I could read and rhyme,
Surely they’d be glad.

The late and great Carl Sandburg wrote some as Poems Done On A Late Night Car. This one is powerful.
NB: it may trigger painful thoughts and feelings for some.

II. USED UP

Lines based on certain regrets that come with rumination
upon the painted faces of women on
North Clark Street, Chicago

Roses,
Red roses,
Crushed
In the rain and wind
Like mouths of women
Beaten by the fists of
Men using them.
O little roses
And broken leaves
And petal wisps:
You that so flung your crimson
To the sun
Only yesterday.

Mary Havran writes of Late Of Love

Love came late
Not shouting
Not leaping
Not looking to move mountains
Only tapping softly on my shoulder
As I tapped away
at my keyboard

Love came late
But bringing with it all
Love ever had to offer
Asking only
For my open heart.

There is much to dwell on “late”. Perhaps it could even be a writing prompt?

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A Last Time

Leaving and moving means goodbyes. This is an oft repeated scene.

A Last Time

A last moment

A last reverie

Sharing the trivial

Warmly.

Saying little

Yet, saying much

Sharing outwardly

Such and such.

Almost gruff

Instructions to part

Do we ever learn the art?

Of goodbyes

In this place.

Last look

Upon that face

Last firm and desperate

Embrace.

Now the memories

Leave a trace

Inscribed on the heart

In a special place.

Simon C.J. Falk 24 December 2017

Gazing Eyes of Experience

Gazing Eyes of Experience

Eyes gazed

Into the mirror of

What these days

Have meant.

Energy spent

And expended.

So easily gone.

Eyes crazed

Into the fears

In many ways

Eating at

The grief of what

Cannot be done.

Or, of what will

Become

Of the future.

Eyes glazed

As words are read

On the screen.

Words of love and care.

Words there

In the gaze.

The best glance

By eyes

That gazed.

Simon C.J. Falk 10 November 2017

For Those Who Could Not Be Here Now – #WATWB

For Those Who Could Not Be Here Now

When Belinda and Damyanti were calling us all together for this ongoing blogfest, there was quite the group. For various reasons along the way, some have not been able to continue as part of the active group. But, they have supported us in vision and we carry their presence with us. They know who they are.

So… this post is a thank you to those who have been on the way with us, and, who are taking a break from active involvement. Thanks not only to the ever valiant Belinda and Damyanti, but, on this occasion to Michelle, those post, F is for Fragmented , jolted me out of my procrastination towards this note of thanks.

For Those Who Could Not Be Here Now

You were there in the inviting,

When the summons came our way,

To gather in our writing,

And pledge to make the day

better for others reading,

So with us still you stay.

Your titles might not sit upon

a linky-list adorning screens,

Although your names from rolls are gone,

We know you share our dreams.

Certain you will rejoin us,

As our blogs towards goodness tend,

Your absence causes little fuss,

As you’ll be with us by the end.

So we keep on collecting stories,

From the fragments of many lives,

Of the greater and lesser glories,

Of famous or less known strives.

Newsfeeds we’ll light with gladness,

Away from trifles we’ll steer,

We’ll tell of peace and of compassion,

And imbue it all with cheer.

Do not feel at all remiss,

Towards our life, blogging friend,

For we carry your presence with us,

From now until the end.

Simon C.J Falk 8 April 2017

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#CBF16 Joseph’s List

Joseph’s List

In memory of Joseph Patrick Falk 1956-87

Here it is

With those long, looping letters

Down the page and

Over

The other side.

Testimony to times spent

Reading the hours away.

Doorways into homes from

Other eras and vistas.

Witness also to

A brother’s love

For a brother.

Gathered at the kitchen table

Blessed interruption

To “homework time”

Two pens it took him yet

Finish it he did.

Sharing his joys

Of narrative and verse

With his younger sibling.

Now, he is gone.

Many years have past

Since he penned that page.

Fifteen I was

When he was tragically taken.

Yet his words remain

Penned on a page

Cherished by me

Among the true treasures

Of words and life.

I look upon that list,

That you prepared that day.

At times as my gaze sits,

Tears get in the way.

If only you were still here,

To read these faltering lines.

Knowing what a gift you gave,

When we had those times.

I still cherish some of those authors,

That you revealed to me.

As you showed love for brothers,

In a way so literary.

This was posted as part of the Cherished Blogfest 2016. To see my post from last year look here.

Simon C.J. Falk 29 July 2016

JosephsList2

Lagoon Linger

Lagoon Linger

Coaxed by warm sun

And chirps, chirrups and

Quacks,

I lingered by

The lagoon a while.

Where parents let the waters

And hungry critters

Help the holiday babysitting.

Plump geese puffed out

Their damp down

Of fluffy feathers

Under solar rays.

A pair of Mallard drakes

Flapped and fought for territory

O’er the murky waters.

All parted ways

As a majestic pair

Of pelicans cruised,

Framed a moment,

Between the trees,

As they passed

My line of vision.

As I walked,

Raven was startled

By my nearing gait,

And coyly strode

Behind some brush,

Gathering sticks

For a nesting –

Promise of a new clutch

Of cawing, carrion chasers.

Yet Raven, like the others,

Each have their own majesty,

On a stunning winter’s day,

As they each parade

Their daily life,

In a beautifully simple array.

Simon C.J. Falk 11 July 2016

Turkish Delight

Turkish Delight

Along with ‘In Instanbul‘ this poem celebrates memories of happy days spent in Turkey earlier this year. The poem bounces off the sensual pleasures of Turkish Delight.

Turkish Delight

Soft and juicy,

Jelly so nice,

Encrusted in nuts,

Flavoured with spice.

Rosewater and nectars,

For colour and taste,

The flavours and memories,

I will not waste.

It’s part of the nourishment

The country gave to me,

The warm and the friendly,

The people of Turkey.

Simon C.J. Falk 1 July 2016

In #Istanbul

In Istanbul

April 2016 – Some friends and I spent some days in Istanbul Turkey as tourists cum pilgrims. We loved it. In recent days the sadness that has descended is crushing. The good and hospitable people of Istanbul could well do with our encouragement.

In Istanbul

We travelled in,

We trod the streets,

We slopped the beer,

And ate the treats.

In the Bazaar Grand,

Some tried their hand,

At a haggle or two,

For a rug or a shoe.

And we loved our days,

On the ‘Gold Horn’ way.

They took us in.

Made us at home,

And it made us grin,

To see spruikers roam.

But the terminal we travelled,

Has now been unravelled,

Leaving crumble and rubble,

From the hateful trouble.

And streets we walked in peace,

Amidst crowds and police,

Now could appear,

To become pathways of fear.

But people! O people! Of Istanbul,

Do not lose heart when others kill,

Those you looked after

From far across sea,

Call out to you from a land roaming free.

You hosted us,

And we toasted you,

Do not let hatred or fuss,

Your spirit subdue.

Your history is splendid,

Your hospitality is fine,

When the hatred subsides,

You’ll return to your prime.

Simon C.J. Falk 30 June 2016

An Incoming Tide

Picture: Peering through trees to Merimbula Lake

An Incoming Tide

It was my privilege and delight to have served, at different intervals of time, in both Bega and Pambula Parishes. Both of them celebrate 150 years this year. I am unable to attend either of the celebrations. A truly beautiful part of this State of New South Wales, our family had holidayed there at times. Later I would work there. Part of me will always feel a yearning to be there. So, while I was adrift on a sea of memories, impressions and feelings, a poem emerged. It is included here.

Picture: Snug Cove at Eden

An Incoming Tide

An incoming tide

Of gratitude

Laps

Upon the shore

Of my thankful heart.

Hearing the news of 150 years

Fell upon me

A wistful haze

And then

A start!

Speak, I must

Of tidings,

Wishes to folks

Friends and others,

Who dwell upon

Meadows and hills,

Crags and beaches,

Or points and rocky ramparts,

That keep watch,

Over billowing seas.

Ah, the mighty Bega Valley

And Sapphire Coast.

Jewel that glints

And glistens,

In the eye

Of everyone who has seen it,

Felt it,

And breathed

The briny air.

And where it has

Taken them.

Taken them

It has.

To a place within,

Where a little piece of coast

Has settled in the heart.

And,

If one listens,

They can hear the reverberations,

The swirling sound,

Like a sea in a shell,

Stirring the caverns

Of our inner selves,

Keeping always a little current

Of this valley and coast

inside.

Picture: looking up the wending Yowaka River

Simon C.J. Falk 23 September 2015

Terrible Two

Terrible Two

The wonderful blog, Interesting Literature, has a post on Kipling. Which reminds me of one of my favourite poems of all time, If. As I celebrate two years of an amateur poetry blog I’m very happy to do so in paying tribute to other great bloggers and inspiring poets like Kipling. Thanks to those who have been part of the journey .

Terrible Two

Well howdy do

I open my app

And they tell me I’m two!

I’ve been with WordPress

More than a few

Months,

Have passed,

And verses

Came to pass

From my pen,

And,