CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE

When the days seem long and dreary,
And we murmur and complain;
As we look for hours of sunshine,
But instead we find the rain;

'Though the heavens be o'er-shadowed,
And dark clouds obscure the sky,
There is still a silver lining
For the sun still shines on high.

When we meet with some perplextion,
And our worries press us sore,
As we wonder what tomorrow has
For us in future's store;

Then may we have hope and courage
That will banish inward fear,
For worries that upset us most
Seldom do they appear.

When our cares they weigh so heavy,
And the way of life seems hard,
As temptations gather 'round us
To catch us off our guard;

Then let us all endeavour
To try and do our best,
For the world will still have troubles
After we are laid to rest.

CARRYING ON

When we are ill, or in distress,
And lying helpless, feeling low,
We're apt to murmur and complain,
And cry "None other has such woe";

Then let us think and ponder well,
And count the many friends we know,
Then we will likely think of one
Who has a harder drill to hoe.

When we are sad or sore perplexed,
When worries seem to haunt us so,
And troubles always cross our path
In every walk of life we go;

Then may we try and do our best
To bear our load 'though steps be slow,
Ad if we stager 'neath its weight,
We're not the first to stumble so.

Then when the clouds are rolled away,
And skies are blue, soft breezes blow,
May we enjoy each day of life
While living on this earth below;

And if the ordeals of the past
Have made us strong to face the foe,
May we gives thanks for renewed strength,
And pray for weaker folks we know.

PEACE AT EVENTIDE

Through our hours of toil or leisure,
After anxious cares or pleasure,
May there be in fullest measure
Peace at eventide.

When the morning cares distress us,
Or when noon day heat oppress' us,
May there be at hand to bless us
Peace at eventide.

May we have no cause to borrow
Unknown worries for tomorrow,
May there be instead of sorrow
Peace at eventide.

When the moon on high is beaming,
And the stars so brightly gleaming,
May we have in slumber dreaming
Peace at eventide.

When at last life's day is ending
And through unknown tracts we're wending,
May there be, our souls attending
Peace at eventide.

ENIGMAS

Sometimes we may feel so despondent,
And our troubles appears quite a few,
The Old World seems all topsy turvy,
And nothing is right in our view.

We may grumble and grouch at the weather
If it's stormy, too cold or too hot;
But vain are our sad lamentations,
There's naught we can alter one jot.

We humans sometimes are an enigma,
(I trust this remark you'll excuse)
One day we are so energetic,
The next may be down in the blues.

It makes matters worse by complaining,
No matter how languid we feel,
We're not all alone in the struggle,
But just one more cog in life's wheel.

But when our depression is over,
And we feel like uniting in song,
May we say with our deepest conviction,
'Twas myself, not the world that was wrong.

THE ISLES OF THE BLEST

The enchanted islands of the blest
Lies in untroubled seas,
A haven where there's no unrest,
And every prospect please.
I know not where these islands lie,
They may be east or west,
But yet in fancy oft I spy
These islands of the blest.

Tall fronded palms wave in the air,
And birds in chorus sing
With babbling brooks and flowers fair,
And every day is spring.
Soft breezes waft o'er hill and vale,
Sweet fragrance fills the breast,
And there no woe or cares assail
These islands of the blest.

The sunlit waters of the sea
Lies rippling by the strand,
And romping children in their glee
Plays on the golden sand.
They know no terrors or alarm,
For there no foes molest
In that fair land of magic charm,
These islands of the blest.

November, 1947

OUR EYES ARE WINDOWS

Our eyes are windows of the soul
Through which we see the light
Of dawning day, the sunset glow,
And twinkling stars at night.

Some folk looks out upon the world
With eyes that seldom see
The beauty in a blooming flower,
Or foliage on a tree.

But others gaze through brighter lens,
Unblemished are their sight,
They see the beauty of the day,
And moon lit lakes at night.

Some folks just seem to glimpse the rain
That always comes their way,
While others catch the sunlight rifts
That pierce the mist and spray.

Our eyes are windows, may we all
Throughout the livelong day,
Detect the fairer thing of earth
That counteracts the gray.

March, 1949

JUST FOR TODAY

If we could live just for today,
And let tomorrows cares go free;
To carry on our daily task
Just four and twenty hours there'd be.

By using one day at a time
As we our daily course pursue,
It leaves less time to fret and whine,
And life takes on a brighter hue.

The days that's gone beyond recall
Will never more return our way,
So while the present we enjoy
Let's put it to good use today.

The hours of yesterday are gone,
Tomorrow seems a long long way,
And while we fret, let's not forget
We're wasting useful hours today.

Just for today; and when each hour
Is spent in helpful things we do,
It fills us with content to know
It was well spent when day is through.

The moments fly, the hours speed on,
And soon another day is here;
By using one day at a time
There'll be none wasted through the year.

THE SHUT IN'S LAMENT

I feel so insignificant,
There's not much I can do
With limbs as if by fetters tied,
Held down as if with glue.
The outside world goes daily by,
And leaves me on the trail,
As driftwood lying on life's strand,
And tossed up by the gale.

Despondency is hard to beat
When weary hours seem slow,
The mystery of this short life
I guess I'll never know.
Some folk enjoy their life in full,
Their cup of nectar drain,
While others sip the bitter dregs
That causes grief and pain.

But there is comfort in the thought
That daily on life's trail,
Thousands enjoy their journey through
'Though others fall and flail.
Life's governed by some higher Source,
And worked out by a plan,
And at some future date maybe
We'll know and understand.

September, 1950

BY DEED AND WORD

Kind deeds are acts of kindness wrought
By those who chose that better part,
Kind words are like a healing balm
That penetrate and soothes the heart.

How comforting to hear a voice
That speaks kind words of hope and cheer,
It's like a tonic to the soul
That make life's load less hard to bear.

How beautiful the hands of those
Who minister to souls in need,
Their skill and patience with goodwill
Makes them true friends, true friends indeed.

And willing feet with buoyant tread,
Eager to help their fellow man;
Missions of mercy they complete
That leaves a trail upon life's sand.

Kind deeds make earth a better place,
Kind words will help when cares assail,
It is the Brotherhood of man,
And thrives where other sources fail.

March, 1948

THE BEND IN THE ROAD

"Where are our friends of yesterday,"
He asked in accents low;
"They're gone and vanished from our sight,
Where are they, do you know?"

"Some of them lived their span of years,
Their life's course was well run,
While others seemed to disappear
Leaving their work half done."

"These friends" I answered "That we lament,
Who trod the road we tread,
They awaits for us around the bend
Of the road that lies ahead."

"And all our friends who disappeared
Like passing ships at night,
Are they now watching us each day,
Or, are we hid from sight?"

"And can they see us when we fall
Beside life's rugged road,
And beckons us to 'Carry on'
When weary with our load?"

"I do not know, I cannot tell,
But his I will contend,
Our friends are waiting for us now,
And just around the bend."

"When we have finished our last mile,
And reached our journey's end,
It's then we'll meet the friends that wait
For us around the bend."

April, 1944

JUDGE NOT

Judge not any man whose demeanor
Appears to be rugged and gruff,
Beneath his crude style
He may be all the while,
A diamond that's hid in the rough.

Despise not the man whose misfortunes
Have netted him nothing but dross;
To offset his hard luck
He may possess real pluck
That's an asset instead of a loss.

Fret not if today skies are gloomy,
And the forecast warns 'Showers to come',
In the morn you may see
Glistening on flower and tree
Bright rain drops reflecting the sun.

Sometimes you will fret and may worry
When problems of life seem so hard;
Judge not by the way
Life may treat you today,
Tomorrow may bring it's reward.

YEARNINGS

Whatever talent we possess,
Whatever course we may pursue,
Sometimes we fail to meet success
In things we plan, or try to do.

There is within each human breast
Ofttimes a longing to aspire
To greater things and higher press,
And seek new talent we desire.

Some craves the gift of poetic art
To write on pamphlet or on scroll,
And satisfy a yearning heart,
The impulse of a poetic soul.

Each one can only do their best
Whate'er may be their daily role,
Though we at times may be depressed
In failing to achieve our goal.

We may improve as time goes by,
Let's do our best tho' it be frail,
And welcome critics when they try
To show us where we sometimes fail.

SUCCESS AND FAILURE

Through all our days while life shall last
We'll have our expectations,
However noble be our task.
Or lowly be our stations;
Whatever talent we possess
Sometimes we'll fail to meet success
In all our life's vocations.

We often fail to do our best,
Despite our best endeavour,
While others always pass the test,
Although they seem less clever;
Then in discouragement may say,
"Why is it that I toil each day,
And meet with failure ever?"

It's then we need more courage, and
Stedfast determination,
To carry on, to work and plan
To reach our estimation;
And having done our very best,
Our work may be crowned with success
Beyond our expectation.

So let us strive and never shirk
To do what is worth trying,
We'll find more pleasure in our work,
Less time for mournful sighing,
And when our call will come to rest,
Then having done our very best,
'Twill comfort us in dying.

WATCH YOUR STEP

Watch your step, it is a warning,
And advice to one and all,
For it's when you're not expecting
You may have your greatest fall.

Watch your step when on life's highway,
And each stage of life unfold,
Loiter not in any by-way
But press on towards your goal.

Watch your step and set then firmly
In the way that's planned for you,
And the signposts pointing onward
They will safely guide you through.

Watch your step in your vocation
Use precaution it is best,
Many are the broken bodies
Laid aside though carelessness.

WHAT THE SPARROW CHIRPED

It was a bright cold winter's day
When snow lay on the ground,
And the earth lay 'neath it's mantle
For many miles around.

A little flock of sparrows
Came fluttering through the air;
And soon they all were busy
Pecking bread crumbs scattered near.

And then one little fellow
More braver than the rest,
Came hopping up towards me,
And this was his address.

"I am only a little sparrow,
A bird of low degree;
And my food is sometimes scanty,
But there's One who cares for me."

"He gave me a coat of feathers,
They are very fine I know,
For they keeps me warm in winter
When the wintry winds do blow."

"He sees each fallen sparrow,
And hears their plaintive cry;
He counts us all each evening
When night is drawing nigh."

"Our earthly friends show kindness,
And strew bread crumbs around;
They pity us poor sparrows
When snow lies on the ground."

"My little heart is grateful
For food that's given free,
I know my feathered cousins
All think the same as me."

"Although I'm not a songster
I'll do the best I can,
To cheer you up each morning
When spring smiles on the land."

And when their meal was ended
Back to the eave they flew;
They all were filled and happy,
And it made me happy too.

January, 1946

THE MASTER ARTIST

The master artist plans His work with care,
And blends bright colours in each landscape fair;
He tints the blushing rose and daffodil,
And beautifies each fragrant lily bell.

No earthly artist can with brush display
A glowing sunset at the close of day,
As he who paints each cloud with magic wand,
And radiates it's charm o'er sea and land.

Behold the rainbow in the evening sky,
Such radiant beauty meets the human eye,
It's arch is tinted with bright colours rare,
That spreads a halo o'er our earthly sphere.

The starry firmament a winter's night,
Shines like a million diamonds, sparkling bright;
The panorama of the Milky Way
Shows forth His handiwork in grand display.

When oak and maple dons their autumn dress,
We seek His work in nature at it's best,
A blaze of colour spreads o'er the woodland
In grandeur unsurpassed by human hand.

It fills us with new hope whene'er we see
The beauty of a flower or maple tree,
Then with our faith renewed we onward plod,
And challenge those who say there is no God.

MOODS AND MANNERS

What funny folk we humans are
With all our different moods and ways,
Some likes the weather when it's cold,
While others like nice summer days.
And some they like the city life,
Others prefer a one horse town,
Some love to travel 'round the world
While others like to settle down.

In winter time it gets too cold,
Oftimes we shiver and complain,
In summer time we wipe our brow,
And wish that it was cold again.
Some people try to put on weight,
And others diet to keep it down;
Some like to live in peace at home
While others like to travel 'round.

Some always has a lot to tell,
But others haven't much to say,
Some find real pleasure in their work,
While others watch the clock all day.
And so it goes from day to day,
I guess it is as it should be,
If everyone were just alike,
Think how monotonous life would be.

SOLITUDE

Sometimes I fain would sit awhile
Beside still waters deep,
And there in silent solitude
A tryst I would keep.

So far are moved from factory's din,
And city's noisy street,
I'd dwell with nature for awhile
In quiet safe retreat.

And in the silence of the night
I'd count the stars on high,
And listen to a waterfall,
Or hear the night hawks cry.

Maybe I'd hear that still small voice
While in that quiet zone,
Reminding me in simple trust
That I am not alone.

And when my stay would terminate,
Then homeward I'd repair,
Firmly resolved with strength renewed
To meet tomorrow's care.

I SAT BY MY WINDOW

I sat by my window when the morning was bright,
As I watched my wife hanging out washing so white,
And she was so busy with work and with care,
While I sat so helpless here in my wheel-chair.

I sat by my window, when the sun it shone high,
As the wife began taking her clothes in so dry,
And as she was ironing her laundry so fair
I felt so despondent, sitting in my wheel-chair.

I sat by my window, watched my neighbour next door
Attending his garden and doing his chore,
And I thought of the day when I was busy too,
But now I seemed useless with nothing to do.

These thoughts then came to me, and I started this poem.
"Sure I should be thankful with family, and home;
With so many blessings, why should I despair,
I should feel so lucky, to have a wheel-chair."

When we are down-hearted, and feeling so blue,
Let us count our blessings, although they be few;
And think of the sufferers, the pain they all bear
That would feel so thankful to sit in a chair.

Photo: L to R - Sons, Eric & Ches; George Frampton; wife, Ethel; daughter, Betty; Son, Roy; daughter-in-law, Eleanor