Twelve more poems and then

I can lock this notebook up in the fire safe and be done with it.

Well really it's been something of a weird diversion, getting to know my little grandmother by reading her poems.

I can't say that it's not been somewhat difficult, however. Like I'm sort of compelled to do this out of ancestral honoring, or whatchamacallit.

STAR TOKEN

Lost, all is lost I thought

to gain.

In vain I've suffered all

the ache and pain

My heart could bear unbrokn.

Now, broke, at last, the piee

scattered far

I save one little bit, a token

Of our love--a far away dim star.

March 5, 1940

(It seems like they broke up again.)

Prayer to a Lonely Pine

Tall sentinel,

Rugged knight, thou pine

That stands upright

upon the hill,

Give courage to this heart

of mine

To weather storms and

blasts; and still

The storm arising in my breat,

And lull my weeping

heart to quiet rest.

March 29, 1940

Our Love

Our love--

There are no words to tell

What joy we feel to know 'tis true.

Our love will never lose its spell;

Our love will always be as new

As it is now.

Our love

Has no beginning and no ending;

No moment that will bear forgetting;

No fear of our hearts ever rending

And no hour have we for regretting

All our love is.

Our love

Will ever bear us upward.

Together we will win the fight.

Someday there'll be no looking backward

Into this darkness from the light

Of Our great love.

April 1, 1940

As You Will

Take me and make m

as you will

I have no other wish

than thine.

Love me or leave me,

as you will,

I'll have a memory: Once

love was mine.

April 4, 1940

Chains of Love

Bonds of love are not as steel

That hold your lover 'gainst his will;

The chains of love give freedom more

Than ever man has had before.

For love can't hold by chains and ties

Imprisoned, tightly clutched, love dies.

But left to freedom, left to roam

Love ever will return to home.

April 4, 1940

Rain

Rain, rain

On the window pane,

Are you falling as swiftly

in far-away Spain?

Do children there

Watch you

As indoors they play?

Do you send little rain-fairies

there as today

You have sent them to us?

They're dancing and playing

on top of the bus

And on every car as it goes

down the street,

On sidewalk an brick-wall,

Around people's feet,

On top of umbrellas that

hob up and down

As people, heads lowered,

hurry down to the town.

April 4, 1940

(It must have been raining that day.)

Trust

What faith you have I do not know,

What gods you claim or where you go;

I only know I love you so

I place my trust in thee.

To higher things than thoughts can reach;

To win hard battles each by each;

To pray to gods whom you beseech

For this I trust in thee.

Whatever comes of grief or joy,

Whatever worldly things annoy

I can withstand; such an alloy

Has trust in thee made me.

And daily as my work I do

I know thy gods will see me through

And, lastly, bring me safe to you

Because I trust in thee.

And when we are at last as one,

Our separate lives on earth are done,

United stand 'til time is run

For this I trust in thee.

April 5, 1940

(Trust must have been an issue for him. I'm just guessing here. And I'm guessing they decided to go ahead and get married, even though her doctors had told her not to on account of the rheumatic fever that weakened her heart.)

A Convalescent Boy's Complaint

It has rained most every day

Since I'm well enough to play

Outside with Bill and Joe.

'Seems like God would make it stop

But I guess that He will not

Just for me and Bill and Joe.

Pretty soon the sun will come,

Pretty soon we'll have some fun;

Playing, shouting in the sun,

Me and Bill and Joe.

April 19, 1940

May Day

Oh, let us sing

And let us dance

All day today,

All day.

Oh, let us leap

and run and prance--

Today is May.

It's May!

April 24, 1940

(M'aidez means "Help!" What's she getting herself into here?)

Lonely

Last night just after night began

I sat out in the yard

And listened to the noises and

the sounds that night had brought.

The loneliest noise of all is one

the frogs make when they swallow.

It sounds as though they were longing to go

"Down hollow,

"Down hollow,

"Down hollow."

April 24, 1940

(And then a few pages over, a little tiny poem here, at the bottom of the page:)

Hurry, hurry--

Scurry, scurry--

Got to get there

Got to get there--

People rushing--

Early morning

Rushing--

Hurrying to--

Where?

Madge Hall Thomas

Apr. 1941

(She was presumably already pregnant with my mom at this time, probably for about two or three months already.)

(And now for the last poem before the big Jesus essay that will take me longer to type, probably something she had to do for school but I'm typing it anyway, God willing, hopefully in the next entry. This is just an unfinished fragment of a poem and it looks like she was called away from her book to do something else, God knows what.)

Reading the old rhymes

I wrote long ago

I am glad that that milestone

is passed

The days when I thought of you

Looking back

Recalling that

Once I feared

that our love mightn't last

If only the Future

(Yeah. If only the Future. But things were as they were. They happened how they happened. Madge died and it was the family tragedy, and certainly for me, because it threw my mother into a panic for the rest of her life. Pretty much. They say the same thing happened to Dorothy Parker too, her mom died when she was young and it pretty much throws you into a panic for most of the rest of your life.)

All poems in this blog entry by Madge Hall Thomas.