"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."

Friday, March 04, 1994

Swingset










Remember the days long ago?
Each was so new.
When playing outside
was all we knew;

When the sky was blue,
and the trees were green;
Daddy was king
and mommy was queen.

When worrying
meant missing the bus
or getting mud
on my new dress.

I miss the swingset
that daddy put together;
the see-saw, the slide,
and the sunny weather.

So free were those days
when cleaning my room
was the worst thing imaginable;
my darkest gloom;

When watching one goldfish
swim in a bowl
overcame me with joy
and tickled my soul!

When imagination
was my best toy;
when I could play Barbies,
even with boys!

I miss the swingset,
my daddy built for me,
for on those swings,
I was so free.

March 4, 1994

posted by Lorraine Courigan at 1:07 PM

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