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Archive for the ‘spring’ Category

THE GIFT OF SPRING

Thank you God for the gift,

And lift, of color in the spring;

For tree’s strait stance, awaiting the glance

Of the sun, in its northern swing.        

                – eab, Mar. ’71

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[1]

You know my heart, O Lord You always know,

The source from which all thoughts and wishes flow.

You know my life, naught from Thee would I withhold,

O let me come, O let me Lord be bold.

 


[1] Written with a heavy heart in the pines west of and below the old public school grounds, Paris, Ohio.

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This afternoon it rained,

And the drops that settled dust,

As far as I could tell, fell alike;

On the righteous and the unjust.

The clouds let it down,

On the wise man and the clown.

A just God.           -eab, 4/68              

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[1]

A geese vee flew overhead,

Headed for regions beyond,

Eventually to down glide,

To lakeside, creek, or mid-pond.

 

But now they angling fly,

Flying in good formation,

Individuals together,

Designed by great Creation.

 

Theirs is a great graceful gray,

Veeing off to far “new” homes.

One side slightly to the right,

Of the goose who with him roams.

 

The other side slopes to left,

Lefting to lesson the winds.

They call to each his buddy;

Is it courage he now sends?

 

The regal-dressed goose in lead,

Leads both sides of his big vee,

A loosely flying unit,

Yet each bird is truly free,

 

What wise cooperation;

Coping to reach a shared goal.

If God can thus make mere birds,

Can He not help man’s long soul? 

                – eab, 4/18/05   


[1] Was happy to see spring in Canada after our first winter.

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April showers bring May flowers,

For June brides, with July dream towers.

 

April showers can be seen,

Mother nature’s time to clean.

 

The April shower, like cauliflower, may

Come fresh – or frozen – as it did yesterday. 

          – eab 4/66

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Fox grass bending under gentle, windy strokes,

Snow bank patches left on eastern side of slopes,

Early grass growing on the valley wall beyond,

Horizontal streaks set ablaze by the sun,

Unleaved apple trees file up the hill abreast.

A honey bee in strip’d array is out searching for the rest

A variegated heaven is peeking past the tail’s of mares,

As silhouetted birds claimed the world as theirs.     – eab, ’71 APR

Penned in Paris, Ohio

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The sun had heated the wrinkled skin,

And precious warmth instilled within,

          With seemingly no outward result.

But inside the movement of sap,

Permeated the cells (as roads a map)

          It was the renewed sunshine’s “fault.”

 

The sap came up from the deepest root,

To the farthest, round, diminishing shoot,

          In action and time, like each spring.

Running by day, and stopping by night,

Then, again continuing its insistent flight,

          To the tune that the robins sing.

 

Then at last appeared the bud, deep red.

On the tree that last winter looked so dead;

          But now it stands, awake from its nap.

On upper branches the buds opened wide,

Revealing the tender green hid inside –

          Oh, the wonderful power of the sap.  –eab, ‘66 APR    

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The grand Lord knew, after the white and the blue,

Of the cold, crisp fortnights of chill,

After stark star lights and short day sights,

And iced-over bridges at the bottoms of the hill,

After sleet’s solid rain and the snow flakes again,

And the humdrum of life in confinement;

That man needed to sing – he needed spring –

The Lord’s annual perfection of refinement.   -eab, 3/29/80

Penned in Friendsville, Tennessee, located in western Blount Co.

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The little hamlet caps the hill

And drips into the vales below.

The parting of the farmer’s lands,

The joining of the merchant’s hands,

And down the track a mile or so

The brick plant stands.

 

The homes of Civil War stand, still,

Along the maple-shaded streets.

The village square is seen to hold,

The General Phil and steed in mold,

Then east on the hill brow one meets

The school place, old.

 

The worn street bricks, years from the mill,

Blend with the ancient stepping-stones.

Now south a bit, the land is cut,

With rails and timbers, one big rut;

And add to this the church bell tones,

As steeples jut.

 

These pleasant scenes my mind did fill

(Though miles and years their distance prove)

On living a peculiar day,

Much like those spent in school in May,

In blest Ohio, state I love,

And village, away.  [1]         – eab, 3/27/69


[1] Remembering my home town, Somerset, Ohio where I attended school from fall of ‘50 to the spring of ‘57.  Home of Phil Sheridan.

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Comfort ye, comfort ye My people, saith your God; speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem; and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned. The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness:-Prepare ye the way of the Lord: make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill made low, the crooked straight and the rough places plain.

And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it

             [The above are words from Handel’s Messiah]

 

3/23 DATE1744, George Frederic Handel’s famous oratorio “Messiah” was performed for the first time, London.

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