Life At Its Fullest Is A Bit Risque
by Helen George

Donegal's Bar on the corner of West
Was holdin' its first wet t-shirt contest,
The ladies pranced with a great deal of zest,
Amid hoots and hollers and jokes and jest,
But one little gal stood out from the rest,
Tilly T. Titmouse won out as the best.

Drainin' their pints they called out for one more,
Stomped and yelled and caused a ruckus galore,
A fight broke out, there was much blood and gore,
There were ugly stains on the clothes they wore,
Then, through the din, Mike the bartender roared,
"Knock it off or you'll be seein' the door."

So they nursed their troubles and drank their fill,
Bidin' their time afore payin' their bill,
Then took themselves off to homes on the hill,
Where they slept awhile, and yet they could still,
No matter how drunk, be awake at will,
To spend another long day at the mill.

Thus, life in this village was spent each day,
Whether good times or bad times came their way,
Life wasn't easy, and yet, come what may,
They were happy in their homes by the bay,
If you asked them why, they would smile and say,
"Life at its fullest is a bit risque."

Indian Heritage
by Helen George

Out on the plains my horse and I roam,
Where the teepee once was considered a home,
Where the great herds of buffalo were given chase,
Where the Cheyenne were once a mighty race.

We stop for a moment while I reminisce,
About tales that were told of vistas such as this,
About a lifetime before the white man came,
About honor and pride, a life without shame.

But the white man did come to our land,
Bringing havoc, letting things get out of hand,
Bringing greed, taking over, running us out,
Bringing damnation as they forged their route.

I bring out my flute and begin to play,
A sad, mournful tune that suits this sad day,
A melancholy salute to the spirits that bide,
A fitting tribute to a great nation's pride.

My Swans
by Helen George

My home is on the banks of a little creek,
Gazing along the edge I spot an orange beak,
Then this snowy white swan suddenly appears,
With seven little cygnets bringing up the rear.

As they float along, they bring a smile to my face,
The pen crooks her neck with such elegant grace,
She fluffs her great wings while dipping her head,
Searching out food while she silently treads.

Late afternoon brings the return of the cob,
Their beaks touch gently as on the water they bob,
They've mated for life and will nurture their brood,
Keep an eye out for predators lest they intrude.

They came last winter and decided to stay,
And the little ones arrived at the end of May,
I watch them in wonder, such a joyful sight,
Willing them to remain and not to take flight.

The Gray Wolf
by Helen George

The gray wolf is a sight you don't often behold,
He roams the wilderness, living wild and bold,
As an alpha male, he will dominate the pack,
Keep them always moving, following the tracks.

A magnificent specimen of the canine breed,
His long haired coat, which is splendid indeed,
May bear the markings of a Shepherd within,
While his face resembles his Malamute kin.

He mates for life and reproduces each spring,
The pups stay close, to their mother they cling,
Late in the summer they emerge from the den,
The pack is protective, their lives they defend.

A predator, the gray wolf's extinction seemed near,
But people intervened and over a course of years
A promising comeback was made - for today,
He's a wild creature whose freedom holds sway.

Wild Geese
by Helen George

Today I was treated to an awesome sight,
A flock of wild geese passing over in flight,
They fly while emitting a honking sound,
I watch as they move off, homeward bound.

The traditional vee formation holds sway,
With the strongest of them leading the way,
They'll travel miles before stopping to rest,
With food and shelter their overall quest.

At home in the north, the gander and his goose,
Guard their goslings at the sight of their roost,
Protect them from harm until they have grown
Self-reliant and strong, able to fend on their own.

Winter emerges and the weather grows cold,
Then an ages-old instinct begins to unfold,
The time for migration is felt deep within,
And the great trek southward slowly begins.

The Corner Grocery
by Helen George

I remember the corner grocery
at the end of the street where we lived,
once a week you shopped at the big A & P,
in between whatever was needed
you got from the corner grocery.

It was a time when groceries
were delivered right to your door
by a guy named Big Sam
who doffed his hat and said "Ma'am,"
and you tipped him a dollar or two.

The corner grocery was stocked complete,
you could purchase all manner of things,
what you purchased was tallied in a little book,
and you paid at the end of the week.

It was a neighborhood store so you
knew everyone and everyone also knew you,
but the owner didn't tolerate kids under his feet
and didn't hesitate to tell us to shoo,
unless we were buying and then decide quickly
for his patience was not very strong.

I spent lots of time in this old store,
stopped every day on the way home from school,
and the memories can still bring a smile,
though the old corner grocery is now passe,
yesteryear's scene, no longer in style.

Chasing The Rainbow
by Helen George

Be a drifter, a dreamer, a proud rainbow chaser,
When luck comes along, reach out to embrace her,
Strive to look for the good, not to dwell on the bad,
If you see the bright side of things, life's not so sad.

Live your life to the fullest, try to experience it all,
If you get knocked down, turn over and crawl
Till things get a little better, then stand up proud,
Move out from under that old dark gray cloud.

If life's got you down and you're wearing a frown,
Take time to look, for some good may come round,
Don't ever give up, hope lies just around the bend,
That rainbow has gold, you know, there at the end.

There's no problem so large it can't be gotten around,
Always follow your heart and you won't be let down,
Make chasing the rainbow a part of your scheme,
Embrace life, make your own luck, and dare to dream!

Beyond The Horizon
by Helen George

One born with wanderlust is born to be lonely,
The open road beckons and bids to you only,
To drop what you're doing and move beyond,
The road silently forges a very strong bond.

You might stay for a while in a nice little town,
But before too long, you start to look around,
In the distance, the horizon is pulling you in,
And ere long, you answer the call once again.

Old now and tired, you wish you could stop,
Becoming so weary you think you might drop,
But once you've rested up, it happens once more,
The road sends a signal, one you cannot ignore.

You've been many places, not much did you miss,
But when you look back, it all comes down to this:
You're that restless old fool, stooped and wizened,
Who still wonders what lies beyond the horizon.

A Love Of The Dance
by Helen George

Tonight, I watch my daughter leave with her date,
Going to a disco dance, she's allowed to stay late,
The whole night will be spent out on the dance floor,
Dancing to the BeeGees is something she adores.

I'm reminded of my own youth, when Elvis was king,
We danced to rock and roll, it was the greatest thing,
Then Chubby Checker came out with the Twist,
What a marvelous fad, no teenager could resist.

And mother remembers Jimmy Dorsey's big band,
When swing dancing up and ignited the land,
She did the boogie-woogie and the lindy hop, too,
There were no dances that she couldn't do.

And her mother, before her, a flapper was called,
She could shimmy with the best, leave them appalled,
So you see, we're a family with a love of the dance,
We don't sit around, we get out there and prance.

Is It Really Affection
by Helen George

My kitty just rubbed her chin against mine,
In return, I stroke her and tell her she's fine,
Is this how she chooses her love to define?
Or knowing I'd stroke her, is it done by design?

She rubs against my legs and meows so sweet,
For this show of affection, I give her a treat,
And I let her in bed when she paws at the sheet,
Is she showing she loves me or is this deceit?

When I arrive home, she meets me at the door,
Where she soulfully gazes as if to implore,
My bowl is empty, won't you please give me more?
If she weren't hungry, would she choose to ignore?

I sometimes wonder at these signs of affection,
When she's rewarded, is there some connection,
If such displays of love bring compensation,
Is it really affection... or an affectation?

Fledgling Sparrow
by Helen George

While watching the birds from my patio door,
I witnessed a sight I'd not witnessed before,
A tiny little sparrow, not yet full grown,
Was sitting near the fence waiting all alone.

It's a fledgling sparrow not long from the nest,
Trying out its wings and now stopping to rest,
It fluffs out its feathers and opens its beak,
Calling for the mother bird, it lets out a squeak.

Then bravely it flies up to the top of the fence,
Where the mother bird sees it and does commence
To offer it food from one beak to another,
It may have left home, but she's still its mother!

My New Honda
by Helen George

Retired and in my sixties, I suddenly find,
My old Buick Skylark has begun to unwind,
She's on her last legs, it's time to trade her in,
What should replace her... where do I begin?

Many cars were looked at, more than a few,
But none were quite right, what should I do?
I went back to the Honda, 'cause I liked the CRV,
But I couldn't decide if it was right for me.

Then just before Christmas, I thought this is it,
It's the one I want, I'm going to commit,
After the paperwork, this white Honda is mine,
And I've discovered she suits me just fine!

Little Gray Squirrel
by Helen George

From the fence, I hang food for the birds to eat,
And suet cakes have become a great treat,
Starlings are drawn to the peanut flavored one,
Peck away happily, fly off when they're done.

Lately, I've noticed a little gray squirrel, who
Has caught scent of this peanut suet cake, too,
He'll reach this treat, though the cage bars his way,
He won't give up trying if it takes him all day.

As he gallantly endeavors to reach his aim,
He favors his right hind foot 'cause he's lame,
But this doesn't impede him, he's found just the way,
And he hurries to try this without delay.

He hangs from the top of the fence by one foot,
On each side of the cage, his little hands he has put,
He gnaws 'tween the bars and eats with great zest,
Then lies atop the fence to take a short rest.

Tired from the effort of hanging upside down,
He scampers away, heads for the ground,
When he reaches the safety of the old oak tree,
He lies down again, exhausted, but pleased.

Origin Of Old Glory
by Helen George

In 1831, in the gray light of dawn,
While the dew was still wet out on the lawn,
Captain William Driver awoke with a grin,
Another sea voyage was about to begin.

Aboard the Charles Doggett, asea at last,
High up in the rigging, waving from the mast,
A 24 star flag hung in the bright morning light,
"Old Glory!" the Captain exclaimed at the sight.

Captain Driver awhile later retired to Nashville,
Where Old Glory was raised each day with a thrill,
The townspeople loved and respected this flag,
Until Tennessee seceded and they called it a rag.

Old Glory was taken down and hidden away,
The Rebels sought its whereabouts with dismay,
Old Glory wouldn't be seen again until 1862,
When Tennessee fell to the men wearing the blue.

Union forces captured the town in these days,
'Ore the capitol, an American flag they displayed,
Then Captain Driver brought forth Old Glory again,
And she was hoisted anew by the 6th Ohio's men.

Between two sides of a quilt she'd been hidden away,
Today, in the breeze, again she proudly does sway,
The men saluted Old Glory and adopted her name,
As they repeated her story, she gained great fame.

In Nashville Cemetery, at Captain Driver's grave,
A flag, though not Old Glory, constantly waves,
In respect for the Captain and his patriotic ways,
The flag waves from on high 24 hours each day.

Clouds
by Helen George

On a clear summer day, in a baby blue sky,
An array of cumulus clouds slowly drift by,
So puffy and billowy, and colored snow white,
They fill one with pleasure, ensuring delight.

Sometimes these same clouds turn a dark gray,
Sending forth signals that rain is on the way,
Clouds with silver linings may sometimes be found,
When your senses are awed and such beauty astounds.

A contrail cloud lingers where a jet has flown by,
And left in its wake a white line in the sky,
Or, low-lying fog blankets the valley in mist,
Obscuring the forest like it no longer exists.

Cloud formations intrigue me as they appear
High overhead in the earth's atmosphere,
I silently watch them as they cover the sky,
See how many different types I can identify.

Splendors Of The Sea
by Helen George

When you stand on the cliff and gaze out at the sea,
Your eye will behold splendors, a vast potpourri,
Waves may be heaving as in a tumultuous storm,
Or resting in calm, with their beauty transformed.

Far out on the horizon, your eye may be drawn
To great ships passing by that in minutes are gone,
Closer to shore, the gathering force of the waves,
Sends them spuming and crashing to a rocky grave.

Seagulls cry out in song as they skim the white crests,
Such a gathering of birds must surely impress,
Then a gray whale may suddenly rise to the top,
'Ere he dives, he coyly gives his fluke a great plop.

You might stay a long time, mesmerized by the sea,
Lost in your thoughts while enjoying the breeze,
The sea's hypnotic charm exerts a powerful pull,
And you drink in her splendor until you are full.

My Sweet Little Sugar
by Helen George

Sugar was very ill when she came into my life,
To keep her alive became a great strife,
She had constant diarrhea and wouldn't eat,
But she was always alert and, oh, so sweet.

The vet was baffled, couldn't find a cure,
What ailed poor Sugar was very obscure,
We tried every remedy, ran the whole course,
But nothing worked and she only got worse.

There were times she did seem a little bit better,
Always a trouper, you couldn't help but love her,
Sugar was playful, she soon captured my heart,
I didn't want to lose her, didn't want us to part.

She became very weak, could hardly move around,
In the end, it was more merciful to put her down,
So I held her, stroked her, and cried many tears,
The memories I have will keep her always near.

It's Human To Err
by Helen George

Today my tap dance teacher took me aside,
I would be part of a duet, she did confide,
For the upcoming dance recital, me and Paul
Would dance to the Darktown Strutters Ball.

Both happy and scared as the time drew near,
I was naive, thought there was nothing to fear,
Wearing a royal blue costume with silver trim,
I couldn't back out now, it was sink or swim.

The curtain parts, and we stand in its wake,
I'm suddenly all nerves, and I make a mistake,
I start dancing too soon and I feel so inept,
But I watch Paul's feet and I soon get in step.

Then I hear clapping, they're rooting for me,
They bolster my ego and fill me with glee,
A mistake shouldn't hurt you, make you despair,
After all, you are human, and it's human to err.

The Wonder of the Woods
by Helen George

I walk the paths lazily, just wandering along,
Listening to birds as they sing their sweet song,
Peering about for any creatures who might stir,
Watching them scuttle, passing by in a blur.

The sweet, heady scent of the honeysuckle vine
Drifts through the air, draws me in like sweet wine,
While quiet surrounds me, so tranquil and calm,
Bringing comfort and peace like a soothing balm.

In a cool, shady glen, moss and lichens grow,
And that old hollow log has mushrooms below,
Older trees standing tall, reaching up to the sky,
Their offshoots ensuring the species won't die.

The wonder of the woods one cannot ignore,
It calls out your name, begs you stop and explore,
Every chance that I'm given, I know I'll return,
For such woodland bliss my soul doth yearn.

My Black Cat
by Helen George

My black cat and I have a good rapport,
When I arrive home, she greets me at the door,
I reach down and pet her, whisper hello,
I'm happy to see her, I want her to know.

And she feels the same way, she's letting it show,
She brushes 'round my legs, meows her hello,
Reaches up and puts her paws on my knee,
Imparting her message "Won't you please hold me?"

So I hold her and stroke her under her chin,
And she purrs her delight and says do it again,
Rubs her chin against mine, I know what she meant,
She's showing she owns me by leaving her scent.

At times, when I'm standing bare-footed, I'll feel
Her sandpaper tongue as she licks at my heels,
Sometimes, when I stroke her, she nips at my arm,
But ever so gently, she means me no harm.

My love for my cat is whole and unmatched,
And she loves me right back, no conditions attached,
We're happy together and will stay that way,
Till one or the other of us reach the end of our days.

Cat Antics
by Helen George

They decided to let me sleep atop the TV,
Agreed not to move me, just let me be,
That this could cause a problem was quickly seen,
As I dropped my tail in front of the screen.

They bought me some brand new catnip toy,
Thought it would work, an excellent ploy,
I prefer to paw in the dirt, kick it all about,
That old flower pot's fun, of that, have no doubt.

Sometimes I assent to play with them there,
Catching the toy as it flies through the air,
Then I suddenly stop, ignore them, cry foul,
That's it, I'm done, I'm through playing now.

But, when all's said and done, I'm not a jerk,
I know how to win them, I give them a perk,
I rub against their legs, look up and meow,
They're thinking I love them (I'm thinking chow!).

It Lived Up To Its Name
by Helen George

The Embers was a restaurant of some renown,
Attended by large crowds from all around,
The chef was the best, he boasted great fame,
But everyone agreed he lived up to this claim.

The food was scrumptious, and served just right,
The desserts mouth-watering, tempting delights,
Yes, the menu offered many tasty sensations,
And everyone agreed it lived up to expectations.

One dark night, The Embers burned to the ground,
And only scattered ashes were left to be found,
The Embers was gone, 'twas no one to blame,
But everyone agreed it lived up to its name.

My Sweet Baby Girl
by Helen George

My heart skips a beat as I gaze at your face,
So wistful and peaceful, while sleep doth embrace,
Soft curls on the pillow so dark and so sleek,
Pleasant dreams, I whisper as I kiss your sweet cheek.

Awake from your nap, you reach out for me,
I lift you up, hug you, and then set you free,
You go toddling about, playing with toys,
As I watch you contentedly, smiling in joy.

I'm captivated by your cute baby ways,
Will love you always, till the end of my days,
To have you in my life brings such a thrill,
My precious, my darling, my sweet baby girl.

Nature's Seasons
by Helen George

Spring enters gently, breathing new life,
Refreshing the soul, brushing out strife,
All the green buds take on a new sheen,
As after a rain, so crisp and so clean.

Summer is welcomed with open arms,
Filling the world with her flowery charms,
The outdoors is calling and we gather there,
As children's laughter floats in the air.

Autumn is decked out in colorful splendor,
Her brilliant hues she proudly does render,
She beckons to all, "Come, enjoy the view,
"Ere my leaves drop and I bid you adieu."

Winter arrives with a brisk chill in the air,
Bringing out mittens and scarves to wear,
Enchanted we are as the flakes start to flow,
Covering the world in a blanket of snow.

Afternoon Tea
by Helen George

I gazed out my window at the gray rainy day,
And I knew that today I'd stay inside to play,
So, I gathered my dolls around about me,
And invited them all to have afternoon tea.

In this chair I'll sit Rosie in her bright red dress,
Next will go Blondie, her curls combed afresh,
In this chair across we'll sit dear Miss Phoebe,
And last, but not least, is my sweet little DeeDee.

The table's adorned with a white lacy cloth,
And my blue china tea set has been set forth,
The tea is steeping, there's sugar and cream,
Enough different cookies for a little girl's dream.

The afternoon passes as we sip tea and chat,
Whispering about this and laughing at that,
"I'm glad you could join me," I say to each one,
In spite of the rain, it's been marvelous fun.

Thoughts Of The Sea
by Helen George

As the sun in the sky rises high overhead,
I toss the seagulls crumbs of day old bread,
They swoop and grab while suspended in air,
Screeching and calling, demanding their share.

The sea water's warm as I wade ankle deep,
Bubbles of foam splash my legs as they sweep
Over the sand, leaving seashells behind,
Washing sandcastles away as they wind.

In the sand dunes, I stop, look out at the waves,
Swollen and rising, so somber and grave,
Heading for shore, where they crest and break,
Then ebbing, they leave a dark stain in their wake.

Sailboats on the horizon, drifting at ease,
White sails billowing in the gentle breeze,
The sea air invigorates, stand tall at the helm,
Embrace mother nature as you enter her realm.

Your Name Is Mud
by Helen George

In a little town in Maryland a legend exists,
About a doctor's path that took a terrible twist,
When I hear people say, "Your name is mud,"
The doctor's story hits home with a thud.

Dr. Samuel Mudd is who that saying's about,
And what happened to him is sad, never doubt,
Found guilty of complicity in a murderous scheme,
He lost all respect, his good name not redeemed.

Dr. Mudd took no part in the murder of Lincoln,
Booth acted alone, and then jumped without thinking,
Though he broke his left leg he still rode thirty miles,
To seek the help of Dr. Mudd and to rest for awhile.

Dr. Mudd gave assistance, as a good doctor should,
Set the leg, provided crutches, did what he could,
He would live to regret his actions, for, in fact,
A whole country would blame him for this one selfless act.

Sentenced to life, although innocence he professed,
They said guilt by association is guilt nonetheless,
So, when "your name is mud" is used to defame,
They're enforcing the tale of a good doctor's shame.

So Proud That You're Mine
by Helen George

I never believed it could be like this,
That I'd feel such unbelievable bliss,
I'm lost when I gaze at your beautiful face,
And such love as I'm feeling cannot be erased.

I kiss you tenderly as I wrap you in my arms,
Enchanted, my darling, by your wonderful charm,
Is such happiness real, it's like a ray of sunshine,
I'm basking in love, so proud that you're mine.

It's heaven on earth, there is no other way
To express what I feel when I hold you today,
My heart is bursting, overflowing with joy,
Oh, the marvel, the wonder of my new baby boy.

The Cat
by Helen George

If you've ever deigned to be owned by a cat,
You know the cat rules, there's no doubt about that,
He's pampered and spoiled, and thinks he's quite cool,
He knows how to play you, he's nobody's fool.

That comfortable chair where you wanted to rest,
Has been claimed by the cat as his own little nest,
And, at night when you're lying in bed really beat,
Watch out for the cat who'll attack your feet.

Just when you think you've found his favorite food,
He turns up his nose, in quite a finicky mood,
And when you call him, he's nowhere to be found,
Oblivious to the fact that you're searching around.

If and when you do find him, I think you'll agree,
The look on his face says "Were you looking for me?"
The old saying's so true, I can attest to that,
"You're nobody till you've been ignored by a cat."

My Patio Birds
by Helen George

On my patio fence, I hung a bird feeder,
Hoping to tempt birds, entice them to eat here,
And, lo and behold, a flock of sparrows appeared,
As I watched through the door and silently cheered.

Then the little gray squirrels the peanuts would chew,
And the bluejays, too, grabbed a peanut, then flew,
Occasionally, a robin was spotted walking around,
Looking for worms while pecking the ground.

This morning brought a pair of cardinals, bright red,
They pecked at the seed, but when startled, they fled,
On the ground, several mourning doves waddled around,
I'm entranced by their cooing, what a marvelous sound.

Then later, starlings arrived for the suet cakes,
Feet clinging to the cages, they peck, dropping flakes,
And three times I saw a very large black crow,
I'm staring in awe, can this really be so?

The Soldier
by Helen George

I am a brave soldier, serving with pride,
Backing my country when two wills collide,
With honor I fight for democratic beliefs,
Restoring the peace, bringing relief.

I'm sometimes disparaged when things go wrong,
But I'm trusting in God to keep us strong,
Run tyranny out, bring freedom in its wake,
Make the world safe for everyone's sake.

I didn't ask for this fight, but I never would flee
When duty calls, and my country needs me,
Wearing this uniform, a symbol of might,
Standing tall and with dignity, basking in right.

I fight for the freedom of all, yes, it's true,
My compatriots, family, dissidents, too,
While you may not agree with chosen policy,
Don't denigrate those who keep you free.

http://www.usa-patriotism.com/poems/tv/soldier-03.htm

The Bear
by Helen George

From my mountain cabin, I saw quite a sight,
As I rocked on my porch in the evening twilight,
Just plodding along, often sniffing the air,
Down aways in the wood was this awesome brown bear.

He pondered a while and pawed in the brush,
Searching for food, in no particular rush,
Then some berries he spied and began to eat,
As I smiled in delight at this very rare treat.

Bears are great fun to watch, as I did in this instance,
But I know they are wild, so I do keep my distance,
Bears may lumber along - I'm not fooled by their gait,
They run faster than me, I don't ever tempt fate!

The Older Generation
by Helen George

First I was an infant with tiny wee feet,
Everyone loved me, said I was sweet,
Then I was a toddler, going on four,
A little terror but still loved, still adored.

Now I'm a graduate of elementary school,
And later a teenager, oh, my, I'm so "cool,"
Before I know it, I'm a college grad,
With the whole wondrous world mine to be had!

Then I'm married with kids of my own,
Not quite believing how quickly they've grown,
It seems like time is just passing me by,
I'm turning forty, dear me, how time flies!

Parents and grandparents all gone, passed away,
And I suddenly realize, with some dismay,
There's nobody left who's older than I,
I'm the "older generation," oh dear, oh my!

Decisions, Decisions
by Helen George

The ice cream truck, a summer delight,
Brings a smile of joy, a face lit up bright.

Hurry mom, we don't want to be late,
On the corner we stand, can hardly wait.

Decisions, decisions, oh what shall it be?
So many choices I'm thinking with glee.

Chocolate, vanilla, or raspberry swirl?
Heavens to Betsy, my mind's in a whirl.

We stand in line, awaiting our turn,
And my mind, once again, tumbles and churns.

Now I think it's ok, I've decided, at last,
I know what I want, my mind's made up fast.

And I say to the man, "Strawberry, please,"
As mom gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

The Bald Eagle
by Helen George

Soaring above, on the currents he rides,
Watching for prey as he silently glides,
To watch him from yonder is such a delight,
As he cruises on high, resplendent in flight.

His beak is sharp, his eyesight keen,
With wings tilted down, he slowly careens,
Drifting aloft in an azure-blue sky,
In fluid motion, he passes on by.

A joy to behold whether flying or still,
A creature of God, his majesty thrills,
With freedom and joy may he always abide,
America's emblem of honor and pride.

http://www.usa-patriotism.com/poems/ppt/american_eagle.htm

Rolling Blue Hills
by Helen George

Traveling the highway, in the distance explode
The rolling blue hills of my childhood abode,
The hills are my strength, they're calling to me,
And I know that back home is where I need to be.

I'm yearning to traverse the hills once again,
Feel the sun on my back, lift my face to the wind,
Reminiscing in silence, as my mind wanders back,
To happier times when I walked the dirt tracks.

At the summit I stop, my heart swells in my chest,
As I calmly survey the distant valley at rest,
For endless miles such beauty abounds,
So quiet and peaceful - in awe I gaze down.

Yes, those splendid blue hills are calling my name,
Weaving their wonder, staking their claim,
I give in to their charm, and I know all is well,
I'm entranced by their beauty, caught in their spell.

The Stag
by Helen George

At the top of the hill, he stands all alone
Majestic and regal, a king on his throne.

Surveying his realm, alert and aware,
His breath a wisp in the cool mountain air.

Nearby stands the doe that he's courted and won,
And there in the brush lies his new born son.

Someday, this little fawn will roam proud and free,
Like his father, the stag, he will aspire to be.

The Gift
by Helen George

I smile as I waken
And jump out of bed,
Today's the big day -
I'm moving ahead!

I'm no longer four,
Today I turn five,
I'm jumping for joy,
Glad I'm alive!

I've looked in the closet
And under the stair,
But, try as I might,
Can't find it anywhere!

The trash can held ribbon
All shiny and bright,
But, where did she put it?
Away? Out of sight?

Then suddenly mom
Appears like a wish,
And says, "Happy Birthday,
Are you looking for this?"

To Denise
by Helen George

You came like
a breath of fresh air
over a stagnant pond.
Alas, the toads
that lived in the pond
were too unimaginative
to capture your essence,
and allowed you
to float away.

Wild Horses
by Helen George

Out on the prairie the wild horses roam,
Majestic and gallant, so wondrously free,
Alert and aware, they paw the wild grass,
Awesome and gentle, a marvel to see.

Ears peaked, nostrils flared, a new scent in the air,
From out of nowhere a rogue does appear,
Silent and wary, the lead stallion takes care,
Snorting and rearing, can't let him get near.

The rogue is fearful, but he makes a stand,
The lead stallion chases, ready to fight,
He nips the hindquarters of the haughty upstart,
With bravado gone, the rogue takes flight.

The lead stallion triumphantly returns to his mares,
For now, at least, he remains the best,
But it's only a matter of time, this he knows,
Til his reign is usurped and he loses the quest.

A Misunderstanding
by Helen George

An aspiring rogue by the name of Henri
Thought he heard oui-oui from the lovely Mimi,
Non, non, mon ami,
Said the gorgeous Gigi,
Mimi is gone, she had to wee-wee.

Dying
by Helen George

When the going gets rough and it's time to let go,
I'll think of Montana - the land I love so;
I'll let my mind drift o'er the greatest of places -
Her majestic mountains and wide open spaces.

Then I'll hop on the back of my faithful steed
And happily go where he lovingly leads;
We'll race with the wind - o' sweet ecstasy,
Til at last I am home and my spirit is free.

Musing
by Helen George

I lay on my back and gazed at the sky,
Watching the clouds as they drifted by,
Content and happy, no cares have I,
Just passing the time as my thoughts go awry.

Looking for shapes as I did when a child,
Look, there's a pony running and wild,
And that's a pirate, with the ghost of a smile,
Now a tiny babe who might stay for awhile.

And, so, the time passes as I rest for a spell,
It's quiet and peaceful here in the dell,
Then, in the distance, I hear a church bell,
And I stir for I know I should no longer dwell.

Then I brush myself off as I rise from the ground,
And head for the path that leads back toward town,
My mind's refreshed, no need for a frown,
Just a smile and a wink, as I lumber on down.

The Tornado
by Helen George

Children are kilt by the swirley thing
That comes down from the sky,
When God's wrath is felt by all
And many souls must die.

You are but a child, my mother said,
God won't take you today,
She took my hand, to the shelter we ran,
And I heard my mother pray.

Soon her prayers were answered
For the howling winds took rest,
Mother cried and said we are safe
As I gratefully clung to her breast.

Golden Oldies
by Helen George

There'll be a whole lotta shakin' goin' on tonight,
And it's sure to bring a nostalgic delight,
You won't see line dancing, nor any swing,
We're goin' back to the time when Elvis was King!

Don that white sport coat and those blue suede shoes,
Don't be left home singin' the blues,
We'll rock around the clock at Palisades Park,
As a blue moon shines in a sky that's dark.

To "Love Me Tender" we'll dreamily sway,
And, on a sea of love, we'll drift away,
So, wake up little Susie, you're at the hop,
To Golden Oldies we'll dance 'til we drop!

The Flag
by Helen George

The sun is shining, a soft breeze blows,
I wave serene o'er the rooftops below
As I'm hoisted aloft, proud and tall,
Endearingly loved and treasured by all.

Sometimes I am honored to serve as a shroud,
Covering the casket of one who died proud,
First respectfully folded and gently, then,
I'm passed to the grieving widow, his kin.

Today, I am part of a glorious parade,
Held aloft by a veteran, grandly displayed,
I'm as proud to be held by one who fought for this land
As I am to be waved from that little boy's hand.

I'm representative of a great country's dream,
Held in the highest degree of esteem,
Whether in sadness or joy I abide,
It's always with dignity, always with pride.

http://www.usa-patriotism.com/poems/cf/flag-02.htm