Sunday, August 14, 2011

2 poems

by horace p sternwall

illustrated by rhoda penmarq





lament




no more castles, not even on the rhine
no more kisses, sweet as cherry wine
no more princesses, pretty as they may be
no more sailors home from the sea

no more moonbeams, dancing on the lawn
or knights in shining armor - they are all gone
no more avowals of eternal love
no more angels, descending from above

no more journeys to distant lands
across raging rivers and burning sands
no more kingdoms to be won
or silver towers flashing in the sun




even the stars have taken flight
on the silent street a single light
guards the entrance to the temple of dreams
where the huddled masses explode in screams

the streets are deserted
the heathen are converted
the arena gives a final shout
and the light goes out









the game of life




death approaches fasta and fasta
but i never learned to play canasta
to the powers that be i never truckled
or learned to play backgammon or pinochle

sad to say, i must confess
to being the world's worst player at chess
poker - don't get me started
my cash and i were quickly parted



in long afternoons in the conservatory shade
with harris the butler i played old maid
bud the chauffeur with the wooden leg
taught me jacks and mumbly peg

those, to my eternal shame
were the best that i could do at games
and when the roll is called up yonder
my wretchedness i will surely ponder







3 comments:

Letitia Coyne said...

Thank you. :))

Lxx

rhoda said...

thank you, letitia

Dan Leo said...

The one, the only Sternwall!