Results for ‘POEMS’
Christmas is gone so what can we folks do
The hours of sunshine each day are very few
Some days we look out and the sky is all grey
So we stay in with a new game we learn to play
Others may go to a warm southern destination
While the rest of us stay in this cold frozen nation
Puzzles of all kinds some folks do each day
As they know it helps to pass the time away
And others read books to see what they can learn
Since its for the true story they always yearn
While some write a poem or letter by the fireplace
To a friend or a relative as they can’t see their face
Others feel its best to call a friend on the phone
As some may not know they are alone in their house
And movies will be watched with the heat turned on
While they wait again for the cold weather to be gone
Older folks will knit some socks or a hat
And if tough times loom we’ll all do more of that
We’ll have snowmobiles as they go down the trail
So I pray they’ll get home safely without fail
Snowshoes aren’t used much like they were years ago
As they were the only way then to get over the snow
The lake can be cleared and folks can have a skate
While children can feed birds and a snowman make
And others can go skiing which may give them a thrill
Or ride a toboggan once again down a snowy hill
Let covid be gone or again we’ll all be found
At home with our family in another lockdown.
Winston E. Ralph
Bancroft, ON
SOME WINTERTIME AMUSEMENTS
Christmas is gone so what can we folks do
The hours of sunshine each day are very few
Some days we look out and the sky is all grey
So we stay in with a new game we learn to play
Others may go to a warm southern destination
While the rest of us stay in this cold frozen nation
Puzzles of all kinds some folks do each day
As they know it helps to pass the time away
And others read books to see what they can learn
Since its for the true story they always yearn
While some write a poem or letter by the fireplace
To a friend or a relative as they can’t see their face
Others feel its best to call a friend on the phone
As some may not know they are alone in their house
And movies will be watched with the heat turned on
While they wait again for the cold weather to be gone
Older folks will knit some socks or a hat
And if tough times loom we’ll all do more of that
We’ll have snowmobiles as they go down the trail
So I pray they’ll get home safely without fail
Snowshoes aren’t used much like they were years ago
As they were the only way then to get over the snow
The lake can be cleared and folks can have a skate
While children can feed birds and a snowman make
And others can go skiing which may give them a thrill
Or ride a toboggan once again down a snowy hill
Let covid be gone or again we’ll all be found
At home with our family in another lockdown.
Winston E. Ralph
Bancroft, ON
Summer is gone and the fall is going down
And soon in the dead of winter we’ll be found
Dig in your wallet to pay for heating fuel
Otherwise you may find your home a little cool
There will be snowy days with a lot of ice
To be out then sure wouldn’t be nice
Watch for icicles hanging from the eave
If land on you this earth you may leave
Glare ice there will be on some winter mornings
So lets keep everything clean without any warning
Some nights will be cold down around forty below
And we who have lived a few years this we know
The plows will be out sanding keeping roads clear
Give them room to work its that time of year
They do a good job out there in the worst season
If you have an accident you may be the reason
Sleigh bells will ring as horses draw people about
While others will be inside not wishing to be out
Winter birds are here like the blue jay and chickadee
And we may see a snowy owl if we look and see
The snow glistens covering the fields so white
But it sure won’t be gone within a fortnight
Some folks will go skating while others will ski
While reading writing walking etc are wished by me
Spot checks will be out to catch the impaired
As we know the road with them shouldn’t be shared
Hockey games will be played across our land
And some won’t be able to watch even if they stand
Snowmen will be made by children this we know
As they play with their friends outside in the snow
Some folks may go to a warmer climate somehow
While we wait for spring and wish for it now
Carols will be sung through the month of December
Which is what we from earlier times always remember
If schools are in they’ll have concerts like over the years
And most children will play their part without any fears
Christmas will be a time of joy for some sorrow for others
But to spend a lot of money buying things I say why bother
We know spring won’t be here for a few months yet
Yes after the poor weather it will come you can be!
Winston E. Ralph
RR#3 Bancroft, Ontario KOL ICO
[Welland Tribune November 18, 1943]
The lightly-falling flakes descend so noiselessly,
And quickly mantle every field and plain;
Proclaiming that the wintry months are here once more,
And that King Frost and Snow begin their reign,
On every leaf and branch we see a tracery
So delicate and lovely in its form;
That one can hardly realise its innocence
Or that these lovely flakes could cause a storm.
In dazzling beauty, etched in white, the trees now stand
Adorned with virgin snow, in winter’s dress;
No twig or branch too small to show its pattern clear,
And to each trunk it clings with a caress,
Each dull and dismal spot is hid from public view
As everything is changed from black to white;
A transformation scene no other can excel.
Like nighttime darkness merging to daylight.
Its advent finds the children loud and boisterous-
They hail it with great transports of delight;
And every prospect pleases as their sleighs come out,
With visions, too, of many a snowball fight.
But in the town, the snow is churned to seas of mud
As traffic, unrelenting, goes its way;
Still in the wide deep spaces of the countryside
The farmers hope that it has come to stay.
William McClure
[Welland Tribune December 24, 1943]
Again we hear the Christmas bells loud pealing
To herald in anew that wondrous birth;
Which, in a world distraught with pain and sadness
Renews a hope of lasting peace on earth.
‘Mid ravaged towns and scenes of desolation
The soldier hears those bells ring in his heart;
And sailors on their heaving crafts are listening
To catch the message which the bells impart.
High in the clouds the airmen feel near Heaven-
The Christmas bells seem ringing in the blue;
And every service man the whole world over
Is dreaming of the things he used to do.
In spirit, they are home with all their loved ones,
And home seems doubly precious at this time;
For suffering and sacrifice surround them
And painful are the hills free men must climb.
Although the world is full of tribulation
We worship still the “Babe of Bethlehem”;
For to our finite minds no earthly judgment
Can e’er that miracle of hope condemn.
The “Prince of Peace” shall comfort bring to anguish,
And cheerful is the hope His word foretells;
Our faith’s renewed and gladsome is the feeling
As hearts respond to chimes of Christmas bells.
William McClure
Summer is gone once again fall is here
And it sure is a nice time of year
There are no flies and a lot less heat
So when doing work outside you won’t be beat
The traffic on the highways is a lot less
Yes to do any traveling this time is the best
Boating fishing and swimming are gone for this year
And the weather will be poor before they’re back here
The gardens were good with the heat and rain
So the produce is plentiful no need to complain
Hunting season is coming and soon will be here
And all the hunters hope they’ll get a deer
The trees are colored their splendor to behold
In colors of red yellow brown orange and gold
The pumpkins are ripe there are a lot around
So I hope none are allowed to rot on the ground
Some will be canned or made into pies
While others will be carved with two eyes
Grapes are hanging in clusters of green and blue
Just waiting to be devoured by me and you
Others will be made into jam jelly or wine
That’s something we don’t need at any time
Apple trees are loaded there is many to go around
So none should be left to fall on the ground
Pies and other things that are good they’ll make
Some will be eaten while others will be baked
Peaches are great but they don’t last very long
Yes the season is short so get them before their gone
Potatoes cabbages rutabagas and other things like cucumbers
Are available also for you to buy without number
Winter is around the corner with the snow and ice
So may no one fall and be injured as it wouldn’t be nice.
Winston E. Ralph
[People’s Press. 8 May 1900]
On Saturday last between fifty and sixty relatives gathered at the old homestead to celebrate the 77th anniversary of David Misener, and a right good time was had. The following is a bit of poetry composted by one of the “kids”:-
In the merry month of May,
And on Uncle Dave’s birthday,
A party was invited down the creek,
And some that got the dodgers
That were sent by Mrs. Rodgers
Said, “We’ll get there, and that double quick.”
From the east they came and west,
All dressed in their Sunday best,
So that each one now did look so neat and trim,
For it seemed their only thought
To put on the best they got,
Or perhaps they’d not at all be in the swim.
Now, Frank was near the field
When the rigs all in there wheeled,
And he gazed upon the party with a stare,
Then he says, you just can bet
They’ll put up with what they get,
But then again I s’pose they do not care.
When he saw the horses all,
Why he says I have no stall,
But, I’ve concluded for to tell them what to do,
Just tie up to the fence
And feed at your own expense,
Is the only way I see of getting through.
Now, it was market day,
And Emma was away,
For to get some cotton clothing for the kid.
When she got in sight of home
Her thoughts began to roam,
But we can never tell you what she said.
There came aunts, uncles, cousins
And others, too by dozens,
And many with a basket on their arm;
They had coffee there from Java.
And chicken with the gravy,
With many things that grow upon the farm.
Now, they brought all sorts of victuals
That were cooked in different kettles,
And they placed them on the table all together,
Then each took a bite and sup
Till they ate the wheel thing up,
They said, “We’ll surely now have better weather.”
But the greatest fun of all
Was to see the girls play ball—
How they’d run and skip and caper to the base,
When the boys would give a shout
And be sure to bat them out,
And then, of course, they’d have to take their place.
All too soon it came on night,
But the thing came off all right,
And no one of the party seemed vexed;
So we bade them all good-bye,
With a twinkle in our eye,
And wonder where the meeting will be next.
[Welland Tribune November 8, 1943]
The playground has grown up with weeds
Since youth has gone to war–
And from the benches half concealed,
The cheers are heard no more;
Upon the diamond many games
Were played in days gone by,
The team work learned in hours of sport
Now serves men in the sky;
And brothers, who are still too youngster
To join them in the fray,
Have volunteered for home defense
At close of working day;
They left their games, because some men
Loved greed and power so well
They made this pleaant world of ours
Unsafe in which to dwell.,
The birds are slowly winging home
This peaceful twlight hour–
An unseen hand must guide them
To their nest in tree and tower;
The sun has thrown its golden beams
Into the darkening sky,
A ray of hope, that soon our men
Will homeward march or fly.
Valerie Malcolm Baker
[Welland Tribune November 8, 1943]
She was a plump, good-natured wife
And he a grouch for years;
But they lived quite harmoniously
And seldom were there tears,
In all their married life he had
Just slipped along the way
Without a compliment to her,
Though he had lots to say.
He’d seldom see her new spring hat,
Or notice what she wore;
As long as life went gliding on
The same as years before.
But one fine day he paused to think
A compliment was due–
He thought of all she’s done for him
And what she had been through.
“My dear,” said he, “it’s wonderful,
These grim and anxious days,
To see the way you stand the strain,
It’s worthy of all praise.
You may be stout, and sometimes seem
As frisky as a pup;
But I admire your courage, for
You’ve more chins to keep up!”
William McClure
By Louis Blake Duff
In heaven, when the summer comes,
I shall hang my harp and say,
I am off to walk my garden
At the dawning of the day.
A-weary of jasper walls
Homely flags I’ll walk once more,
A-weary of your purple thrones–
Oh the bench beside my door!
I am off to walk my garden
In the grey and creeping light;
To drink the keen, cool wines of morn
From flagons filled in the night.
I’ll see the quiet day come up
In search of the sleeping lea,
And hear the solemn trees confer
In whispering mystery.
Aloft the locust by the bridge
Her uncounted censers swings;
The brook below in sweet content
Sings of happy wanderings.
Fair Flora in her robes of white
As in summers gone will smile
And wave to me from the hedgerow
When I mount the meadow stile.
And when I mount the meadow stile
I shall know my journey done;
The new heaven far behind me,
And an old one just begun.
O paradise; when summer comes,
I shall hang my harp and say,
I am off to walk my garden
At the dawning of the day.
By Winston E. Ralph March 21, 2021
When ever we are out and driving around
We look for barns and many are found
There are log ones down near Killaloe
But others are a pile of logs with them what do we do
Years ago in the Bancroft area many barns were seen
Now few are left as farming is hard it seems
Some were big while others were small
While everyone had at least six cow stalls
The cattle knew which stall they went to
Bringing them in one at a time you didn’t do
In this area every road had at least three
Now there’s none in operation that I can see
Folks want bacon for breakfast and milk to drink
But these come in with chemicals if you only think
Years ago loose hay was forked from the wagon into the mow
And youngsters tramped it in the dust somehow
After feeding and bedding cattle houses and pigs in the pen
Before going to the house we checked on the hens
There was a track along the rafters to lift the hay
As it wasn’t forked in they done it the easy way
The wagons came in and the fork came down
And with three lifts no hay on the wagon was found
Barn swallows built nests on the rafters up high
Where they were safe and the little ones wouldn’t die
Some barns were built against the side of a hill
So the wagons of hay the mow they could easily fill
These old barns were built back many years ago
And how much snow has fallen on them God only knows
When these barns were built there was a large bee
As many folks in construction pictures that I can see
Some were painted in colors of red white or others
While others were left to fade as their owners didn’t bother
Milking was done by hand but a machine soon took over
But the cows never cared as they ate grain hay and clover
If these barns could talk a good story they would tell
Of those working around and how children did yell
After putting in loose hay people felt it would be better to bale
Its hard to farm among rocks so most of them did fail
This area wasn’t meant to be farmed in a big way
Go to Peterborough or Belleville and you’ll see nice farms I’ll say
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