The Poetry of R.E. Slater: Aug 27, 2022

"Autobiographies of great nations are written in three manuscripts – a book of deeds, a book of words, and a book of art. Of the three, I would choose the latter as truest testimony." - Sir Kenneth Smith, Great Civilisations

"I must write each day without fail, not so much for the success of the work, as in order not to get out of my routine." - Leo Tolstoy

I have never believed that one should wait until one is inspired because I think the pleasures of not writing are so great that if you ever start indulging them you will never write again. - John Updike

"The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it." - J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Poetry is the shadow cast by our streetlight imaginations." - Lawrence Ferlinghetti

[Note - If any article requires updating or correction please notate this in the comment section. Thank you. - res]

Saturday, August 27, 2022

R.E. Slater - Of Grandsons & Grandparenting

LITTLE BOYS, DOGS AND CARS

by R.E. Slater

I'm not sure what it is about

little boys and dogs and cars

but they seem to go together

like ice cream and waffle cones,

like cold cereal and milk, like

puppy dog tails, sticks, and mud.

If you have grandsons as I do

you'll notice they take naturally

to laying on floors playing with

their trucks and toys, each

making their own noises,

going Brrrm, Brrrm, Brrrm.

And don't forget the family dog

who lays nearby drowsily listening

with ears alert through sleepy lids

until they become a mountain,

a road valley, an obstacle to climb,

to hug and ride and drive upon.

When Grandpa goes for groceries

each little one wants to drive,

imagining exciting adventures

as they go Brrrm, Brrrm, Brrrm,

in the front seat happily steering,

with doggy seated behind them.

Too quickly these times fly by

as grandpa grows older and his

grandsons lose their num-num,

soon learn to play winter soccer,

forgetting their aging playmates,

eyeing the girls and growing up.

These are the days to remember,

to hug and hold tight; to lean into;

of getting down on the floor playing

alongside grandson and dog, going

Brrrm, Brrrm, Brrrm, down the

country lanes and o'er the far hills.

R.E. Slater

August 27, 2022;

edited September 22, 2022

@copyright R.E. Slater Publications
all rights reserved

* * * * * *

LITTLE BLESSINGS

I have little blessings,

I count them one x three,

They travel in grandpa's arms

Or upon his shoulders wide,

But it's all OK by him.

We duck wild'ing hanging branches,

We learn to walk the fields,

I carry little blessings,

Who are brightly learning,

To grow alongside of me.

R.E. Slater

August 27, 2022;

edited September 22, 2022

@copyright R.E. Slater Publications
all rights reserved

* * * * * *

BEHOLD! GOD'S MANY WONDERS!

Grandpa, Grandpa!

I hear my welcomed guests crying out,

excitedly running down the hallways,

hearing me call, following my voice,

"Over hear, over hear, over hear!"

with arms open wide, I gather

each little body in as best as I can,

squirming for a better seat,

and me, a better grip, as we

mash together to watch, or

listen, whatever I might have on,

uncaring just then my plans to

play baseball, bikes, or go upon

happy wilderness hikes!

R.E. Slater

August 27, 2022;

edited September 22, 2022

* * * * * *

RESTING UNDER A GREEN BROOK

Against a bluing sky

a fawning, aging tree's
green leaves tilt and flutter
As mirthless breezes
whisper, Listen... Listen...
hear what is unheard,
See what is unseen,

smell my deep roots,
planted wisdom's soils,
Rejoice! and be content.

R.E. Slater

August 27, 2022

edited September 22, 2022