Roc
All feathered things yet ever known to men,
From the huge Rucke, unto the little Wren;
From Forrest, Fields, from Rivers and from Pons,
All that have webs, or cloven-footed ones;
To the Grand Arke, together friendly came,
Whose several species were too long to name
poem by Michael Drayton
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Legend
THERE is an hour, they say,
On which your dream has power:
Then all you wish for comes,
As comes the lost field-bird
Down to the island-lights;
There is an hour, they say,
That's woven with your wish:
In dawn, or dayli’ gone,
In mirk-dark, or at noon,
In hush or hum of day,
May be that secret hour.
A herd-boy in the rain
Who looked o'er stony fields;
A young man in a street,
When fife and drum went by,
Making the sunlight shrill;
A girl in a lane,
When the long June twilight
Made friendly far-off things,
Had watch upon the hour:
The dooms they met are in
The song my grand-dam sings.
poem by Padraic Colum
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The Hen and the Wren
The lovely, laying hen said to the itsy-bitsy wren.
'Good morning. It's nice to see you now and then.'
The itsy-bitsy wren said, 'Thank you Mrs. Hen.
I haven't seen you for awhile and don't remember when.'
The laying hen said to the itsy-bitsy wren, 'If you recall,
The last time we were together was a bit before last fall.'
The wren smiled and said, 'Oh yes I should have guessed.
It's spring again so I'm back to build another nest.'
The hen said, 'Soon we both will be sitting on our eggs.
Not long after that there'll be babies ‘neath our legs.'
The itsy-bitsy wren said, 'I wish my eggs weren't so small.
Your eggs are so large that your babies will be tall.'
Well the lovely laying hen said, 'Your eggs are just right.
And that song you sing brings everyone delight.'
From spring to fall wherever hens and wrens reside,
There'll be nests, eggs and babies chirping far and wide.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Wren
World
Do not give me anything.
I would lose it.
Or abuse it
Or something.
Don't get too close to me.
When only the wren can sing my pain
So sweetly.
Don't try to break my chain.
Love left me bound and gagged
In the rain.
All passion drying
In the vein.
Only the wren
Can set me free.
Warbling so sweetly.
Please do not kiss me.
And say you care.
My emotional repair
Is beyond any sweet embrace.
Touch the scars upon my face
From burning tears.
Only the wren
Can quell my fears.
For just one minute
In early morning,
I am healed.
When that unwritten love song
Is revealed.
Please,
Do not ask me
Why or where or when.
Just let me fly away
With jenny wren.
poem by Kevin East
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Winter Solstice
When you startle awake in the dark morning
heart pounding breathing fast
sitting bolt upright staring into
dark whirlpool black hole
feeling its suction
Get out of bed
knock at the door of your nearest friend
ask to lie down ask to be held
Listen while whispered words
turn the hole into deep night sky
stars close together
winter moon rising over white fields
nearby wren rustling dry leaves
distant owl echoing
two people walking up the road laughing
Let your soul laugh
let your heart sigh out
that long held breath so hollow in your stomach
so swollen in your throat
Already light is returning pairs of wings
lift softly off your eyelids one by one
each feathered edge clearer between you
and the pearl veil of day
You have nothing to do but live
Winter Solstice
When you startle awake in the dark morning
heart pounding breathing fast
sitting bolt upright staring into
dark whirlpool black hole
feeling its suction
Get out of bed
knock at the door of your nearest friend
ask to lie down ask to be held
Listen while whispered words
turn the hole into deep night sky
stars close together
winter moon rising over white fields
nearby wren rustling dry leaves
distant owl echoing
two people walking up the road laughing
Let your soul laugh
let your heart sigh out
that long held breath so hollow in your stomach
so swollen in your throat
Already light is returning pairs of wings
lift softly off your eyelids one by one
each feathered edge clearer between you
and the pearl veil of day
You have nothing to do but live
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Homesick
I’ve lit the Christmas candle,
As we used to long ago
When it shone through cabin windows
On Holly-hedge and snow.
In this fine new house they’ve built me
That is furnished rich and fair-
But I’m hearing now the breakers rolling round the cliffs of Moher,
And my heart is aching, aching for a breath of Irish air.
The wren boys on St. Stephen’s Day.
Went singin’ up and down
With their poor dead wren and thorn bush,
I heard them through the town.
But to-night down lighted city streets,
I hear the distant band,
And when’er they play ‘our own’ hymns or tune of dear old Ireland,
The poor old foolish heart of me is in another land.
‘Twas a lonely hillside chapel,
Where we tramped to midnight Mass,
With the flaring lights we carried
Throwing shadows on the grass.
But to-night my boy will drive me
In his grand new limousine,
And he’ll wrap my furs around me, proudly caring for his Mother,
And I’ll ride to the Cathedral just as grand as any queen.
Ah! No, I’m not repinin’,
And I love this wide new land,
And I’m proud to see the childer
Growin’ prosperous and grand,
But roots strike deep in Irish soil,
Old memories are sweet,
And to-night my heart is yearnin’ for the cabin I was born in,
And I smell the reek of turf-smoke driftin’ up the city streets.
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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End of Savings Time
In late October
Savings time ends, quickening
Each day’s birth and death
© 2009 Forrest A. Hainline III
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Psalm 031
Be my
Rock and Castle
Be my crag and stronghold
When my life is wasted with grief
Hear me
© 2009 Forrest Hainline
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Warm Day
Thick blanket of fog
Beneath the bridge disappears
As the warm day breaks
© 2009 Forrest A. Hainline III
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Psalm 010
Why stand
So far from me
In my time of trouble
When will you listen Lord and give
Justice
© 2007 Forrest Hainline
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Ghost Lights
Lights like ghosts dancing
Along the span of the bridge
Morning fog’s magic
© 2009 Forrest A. Hainline III
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Psalm 045
Grace flows
From your sweet lips
Our enemies lose heart
Ride and conquer in the cause of
Justice
©2012 Forrest A. Hainline III
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Fairness
You want a fair world?
Then have one without passion,
Love, lust or beauty
© 2009 Forrest Hainline
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Winter's End
Winter is ending
And I regret the loss of
Its cold clarity
© 2009 Forrest Hainline
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Bridge Span
Can’t see the bridge span
In the heavy morning fog
The base a shadow
© 2009 Forrest Hainline
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Fog on the Golden Gate
Fog so thick you can't
See the bridge - Just hear fog horns
Signaling danger
© 2012 Forrest A. Hainline III
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Head Wind
It's miserable
Running into a headwind
The fog cold and damp
© 2009 Forrest A. Hainline III
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Accept
Accept the future
In all its uncertainties
A gift to open
© 2009 Forrest Hainline
poem by Forrest Hainline
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Marriage (for Joe and Emily)
Marriage
Lifts the spirit
A subtle work of art
That incarnates the human heart’s
Desire
Comfort
One another
In sadness and trials
Be together in dreaming all
Your dreams
©2010 Forrest Hainline
poem by Forrest Hainline
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So What (for my son Forrest)
Music fills your life
Your soul your identity
So what to all else
© Forrest A. Hainline III
poem by Forrest Hainline
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