"Accolades For Valor" by Matthew Johnson (1993): "She goes through life, gliding, a benevolent seer/ Stopping constantly to aid those in need, those not even dear/ I, an individual, swept up in the storm/ Of a woman, who, in search of herself, defies the norm/ As I, an outcast, fighting myself, yet daring to believe/ That if I ask her aid and succor (and possibly love) she won’t leave/ Giving her heart, mind and soul to every known cause/ Causing me to look about my selfish malestrom, and in introspection give pause/ For all her words, she won’t write about me, does she fail to perceive/ What the object knows to be true and what make believe—/ Words rarely present, presence much more of one/ Is to wish for more as good as wishing for the sun?/ Energy is precious, as I know well to be true/ And I am curious to know, Lorraine, what I can ask of you/ Names are important, they make us who we are/ Much more important than people give credit, by far/ The masses may cry “Lori!” and let them do so!/ For the numbers who call that cannot understand/ They will never know the Lorraine inside, the one crying to live/ Will be forever frustrated by those whose minds are like a sieve/ There may be those who rob her of her world, let them scratch the skin/ They are as pinpricks to the steel within/ These accolades are not exaggeration, not pretentious/ I Just want you to know that there is at least one who is conscious/ That the world is a better place for the life of a woman named Lorraine."

Sunday, May 12, 1991

Heaven's Trail










It was a sunny day in Arkansas.
A young man rose from sleep.
As usual, he studied law,
and a store he did help keep.

He'd been searching for that someone
to fill the empty hole.
He'd just begun to look around.
He'd just begun to stroll,

but busy as he was,
he hardly got out.
It was either work or school;
a career-bound route.

He awoke one day feeling frail
as if he'd fallen ill.
Actually he'd felt quite lousy;
enough to write his will.

He headed for a medicine man
to see what he would say.
The doctor folded his hands,
"the situation is rather gray."

He thought he was healthy;
he thought in good shape;
but cancer is wealthy
and did easily overtake.

"Six months to live," the doctor said,
"that'd be my guess.
If you'd come to me sooner, you mightn't have died,
but now it has progressed.

Therapy won't do much now.
It's too late in the game.
You can stay with a nurse
or travel just the same."

Meanwhile, in Boston,
a young lady rises;
scurrying across campus;
never realizing.

She too seeks love
to come into her life,
but also studies law;
hasn't time to be a wife.

Next year she'll be graduate
while this year she is under.
She'll finish up at Harvard;
no room for a blunder.

Still, the Arkansas man
weeps in his steps.
He decides to travel
since he hasn't much left.

He never finds his Harvard acceptance.
He never opened his mail.
He took all of his money,
invested and set sail.

Love is full of sacrifice.
Heaven is full of peace.
It's somewhere we can live lost life
and enjoy eternity.

The future was known up above,
yet nebulous on the planet.
She must give herself up for love
or she might never have it.

She tred to her dorm
as if she'd lost a friend,
left a note to inform,
and made her bed.

She's not sure why she's done this.
She felt she lost her soul.
She took a rope and hung it up
and above her neck she pulled.

In minutes, her lungs rejected air.
She no loger had life within her.
Instead, she was just dangling there,
left alone to wither.

Likewise, the man from Arkansas,
was cruisig the big sea,
getting sicker as time elapsed,
and passed on quietly.

Months it took to get to heaven,
and she'd been repenting her sin for seven.
Pleading acceptance at the gates;
very paitently she did wait.

At final approval, she entered the world in the sky,
but before she spanned two feet, she bumped into a guy.
They saw each other and at first sight
they found their sought out love up high.

May 12, 1991

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home