Babies and Toddlers
Babies; toddlers everywhere,
Newborn smiles, and eyes that stare,
Little fingers; little toes,
And, love has blossomed; Heaven knows.
Silk the skin, and dimpled cheek,
Peek-a –boo; now Boo-a-peek,
A horse, a colt; A cow, a calf,
These simple games and infants laugh.
Now where do little giggles grow?
From straws in milk as bubbles blow,
Or any “Blub-blub” funny sound,
Will make the infant laugh resound.
Yet, quiet time it is the best,
Our little ones will take their rest,
As Mister Sandman makes his calls,
The head upon soft pillow falls.
Each dream, I know they dream as we,
Some struggles, and some reverie,
And, with one hope when wake they face,
Someone they love who gives them grace!
Peter Lowell Paulson
March 12, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Winter Wonderland
Winter Wonderland
Howling winds and captured snow,
Descending; falling far below,
To reach our earth, and fill our skies,
A whitened wonder for our eyes.
The bits of drift in barren field,
The stubbled corn stalk winter’s yield,
A shower from season’s Blunderbuss,
The blast of white on all of us!
We hear one gladdened voice in this,
“Take silence in your winter’s bliss!”’
An art museum will ne’er impart,
True nature’s farmland snowy art!
Peter Lowell Paulson
March 6, 2013
PS. Come visit us! I was from the city. It’s better here!
Howling winds and captured snow,
Descending; falling far below,
To reach our earth, and fill our skies,
A whitened wonder for our eyes.
The bits of drift in barren field,
The stubbled corn stalk winter’s yield,
A shower from season’s Blunderbuss,
The blast of white on all of us!
We hear one gladdened voice in this,
“Take silence in your winter’s bliss!”’
An art museum will ne’er impart,
True nature’s farmland snowy art!
Peter Lowell Paulson
March 6, 2013
PS. Come visit us! I was from the city. It’s better here!
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Granddaughter
Granddaughter
Near half the world is boys,
With wheels and “manly” toys,
Attentions push and shove,
At cousins that they love.
And, everyone unique,
Each different their physique,
Some quiet; some will talk,
Each one when bothered squawk.
Now, into boyhood world,
A girl, and all is twirled,
Just born, and all we think,
Is ruffles, and the pink!
We hear you should suppress,
That urge for girls to dress,
Just listen to the girls,
They love their nails, and curls!
So Grandma in your prime,
This IS the shopping time,
You’ve wished for such a while,
To shop the “other aisle”!
So with abandoned go,
And, one day you will know,
Twill be your joy and pride,
Granddaughter by your side!
Peter Lowell Paulson
February 26, 2013
Near half the world is boys,
With wheels and “manly” toys,
Attentions push and shove,
At cousins that they love.
And, everyone unique,
Each different their physique,
Some quiet; some will talk,
Each one when bothered squawk.
Now, into boyhood world,
A girl, and all is twirled,
Just born, and all we think,
Is ruffles, and the pink!
We hear you should suppress,
That urge for girls to dress,
Just listen to the girls,
They love their nails, and curls!
So Grandma in your prime,
This IS the shopping time,
You’ve wished for such a while,
To shop the “other aisle”!
So with abandoned go,
And, one day you will know,
Twill be your joy and pride,
Granddaughter by your side!
Peter Lowell Paulson
February 26, 2013
Monday, February 18, 2013
New Babe - Sonnet XXII
New Babe _ Sonnet XXII
A child is brought into our life,
By pile of leaves a simple child,
In love with life; in fact is wild,
With one and only simple strife,
To drink and eat and then be fed,
And, with his loving parents held,
Caressed and kissed about his head,
As into family life he’s meld.
Now wonder of the Christmas gnome,
With childhood gladness and with glee,
All bright with candles in our home,
To cherish Christ who set us free,
Throughout the year we give YOU laud,
For this new babe, we thank you, God!
Peter Lowell Paulson
February 18, 2013
A child is brought into our life,
By pile of leaves a simple child,
In love with life; in fact is wild,
With one and only simple strife,
To drink and eat and then be fed,
And, with his loving parents held,
Caressed and kissed about his head,
As into family life he’s meld.
Now wonder of the Christmas gnome,
With childhood gladness and with glee,
All bright with candles in our home,
To cherish Christ who set us free,
Throughout the year we give YOU laud,
For this new babe, we thank you, God!
Peter Lowell Paulson
February 18, 2013
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Mark Hall and Me
Mark Hall and Me
I wonder how Mark Hall could write the same love poem I penned,
You’ll kindly scan the card you found ‘pon copier and send-
It to me for I’d love to see his profound verse and rhyme,
His meter and his syntax formed must be the most sublime!
Mark Hall must be a twin of mine where minds go off to play,
Some universe of poet’s verse entwined in some array,
They say ten trillion monkeys pounding randomly could write-
On typewriters the Gettysburg address; or what a fright!
Now this would be a first in poetry, or music too,
Those two poets who’ve never said, “Hello,” or bid “Adieu”,
Could conjure, build a mixture of the same exacting dream,
And, if it’s so I want to go on Oprah as a team!
Peter Lowell Paulson
February 14, 2013
I wonder how Mark Hall could write the same love poem I penned,
You’ll kindly scan the card you found ‘pon copier and send-
It to me for I’d love to see his profound verse and rhyme,
His meter and his syntax formed must be the most sublime!
Mark Hall must be a twin of mine where minds go off to play,
Some universe of poet’s verse entwined in some array,
They say ten trillion monkeys pounding randomly could write-
On typewriters the Gettysburg address; or what a fright!
Now this would be a first in poetry, or music too,
Those two poets who’ve never said, “Hello,” or bid “Adieu”,
Could conjure, build a mixture of the same exacting dream,
And, if it’s so I want to go on Oprah as a team!
Peter Lowell Paulson
February 14, 2013
St. Valentine's Day
Happy Valentine's Day Sweetheart
You always could put “Happy” in Saint Valentine’s fine day,
With all the lovely verses in the cards, and what they say-
About undying love you have from now; forever more,
Yet “Happy” is within your smile and eyes that I adore.
Peter Lowell Paulson
February 14, 2013
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
True Grit
True Grit
You can’t rob a robber; you can’t cheat a thief,
I never took anything from one’s relief,
Not anyone’s watch or a dollar in hand,
From honest men’s wages, on this here I stand.
Yet, seven men chased me on horses in play,
From robbing a high interest bank here today,
If stealing is stealing that was their demand,
In New Mexico I will take my last stand.
But, I am a marshal today many years,
I look back; I faced all those men with my fears-
With the grit in my eye, and two guns in my fists,
I turned round and I charged them and blasted in mists.
Now, Missy you hire me to find a man,
That murdered your father, yes, I think I can,
I know all the tricks that a murderer can do,
Move into the wilderness that I’ll pursue.
We captured him now in the law he is wrong,
And, a jury will hang him in rope not too long,
The righteous man lives, and some days he may die,
But, the evil man struggles fore’re by and by.
Peter Lowell Paulson
February 6, 2013
You can’t rob a robber; you can’t cheat a thief,
I never took anything from one’s relief,
Not anyone’s watch or a dollar in hand,
From honest men’s wages, on this here I stand.
Yet, seven men chased me on horses in play,
From robbing a high interest bank here today,
If stealing is stealing that was their demand,
In New Mexico I will take my last stand.
But, I am a marshal today many years,
I look back; I faced all those men with my fears-
With the grit in my eye, and two guns in my fists,
I turned round and I charged them and blasted in mists.
Now, Missy you hire me to find a man,
That murdered your father, yes, I think I can,
I know all the tricks that a murderer can do,
Move into the wilderness that I’ll pursue.
We captured him now in the law he is wrong,
And, a jury will hang him in rope not too long,
The righteous man lives, and some days he may die,
But, the evil man struggles fore’re by and by.
Peter Lowell Paulson
February 6, 2013
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