Best Buchanan Poems
Clans, Ilks and Tartans
Woven into threads of red and black,
Girded by grids of white,
Distant plaintive bagpipe memories
Of sunset over Kilmaurs –
A crest that bears a unicorn
Touches royal roots
As a poet’s tribute to a patron lost
Watches neighbors Campbell and Montgomerie
Then looks out on the seas from tidal lands
Of Ayrshire in flings and reels with swirling kilts
When explorer’s feet recall on new world shores
The mew of seagulls soaring –
Politicians, engineers and entrepreneurs -
Over Fork Over – Cunningham, a clan of auld.
Blocks of green and wine
Stripped with blue
Look back into the heather
Covering highland hills of country dances
Where spring wanders in hunting kilts
Beneath clear cerulean heavens,
Boldly enduring;
A crest that bears a coronet
Of storied noble and knight
Whose melancholy legend
Whispers in glens and gloaming
Of standard bearers for a king
Watched by Ogilvy and Stewart
Lindsay, a clan of auld.
Like sunlight bouncing off of autumn leaves
In crimson, golden amber, umber greening hues -
A sword dance of squares and lines in twirling kilts -
Near the sparkling waters of Loch Lomond;
Clan neighbor Graham and cousins MacCammon
See the crest adorned by a coronet
Prize of battle;
The wind remembers
Tiny windswept island Clarinch -
A battle cry of Clar Innes -
Campaigns of kings and exiled queens –
Chieftain’s seat sees a president and prospector -
Hence the brighter honor – Buchanan, a clan of auld.
Cousins of the same ilk
Bear the names of families -
Of highland lands
And lowland memories -
Seaside and mountain territories -
Kilts wearing colors interwoven patterns
Born of clans with
Tartans telling legends and the stone of destiny,
Plaids dancing at the piper’s hand,
Ancient names, though maybe hidden, still live –
Cunnyngham, Lindsey and MacCammon
Of Buchanan –
In Celtic refrains like iridescent whispers
Woven through clans of auld.
This is the story of my Scottish heritage through the mottos, the tartans, the history and geographic references to the clan homes.
Schools are closed, there is no mail
And stores hold special sales.
To honor our first president,
That’s what this day entails.
Though technically, our 16th prez
Is celebrated, too.
To make a Monday holiday,
That’s what they chose to do.
The 40-something other men
Who served the USA
As presidents were not awarded
Their own special day.
So sorry Adams, Jefferson,
James Madison, Monroe,
John Quincy Adams, Jackson
And Van Buren – all are no.
Poor Harrison and Tyler,
Polk and Taylor, Pierce and Grant,
Fillmore, Johnson and Buchanan,
Hayes and Garfield – no, you can’t.
Arthur, Cleveland and McKinley,
Harrison and Teddy R.,
Taft and Wilson, Harding, Coolidge,
Hoover, also FDR…
Truman, Eisenhower, JFK,
LBJ and Nixon, Ford,
Carter, Reagan, both the Bushes
And Bill Clinton – not on board.
Last, no day off for Obama.
As to he who’s right now serving,
I can’t think of anyone who might
Be any less deserving.
President's Day is approaching so I thought I would further your education,
By revealing useless trivia about some of the dudes who've served our nation.
President Washington actually had to borrow money to get to his inauguration.
He wore size 13 shoes and seldom took a bath much to Martha's indignation!
Abe Lincoln agreed his wasn't the prettiest face when all was said and done!
Once called 'two-faced' he said, "If I had two faces, do you think I'd wear this one?"
James Buchanan was nearsighted in one eye and farsighted in the other,
Causing him to lean his head to the left and close one eye, which was a bother!
For his breakfast, Ulysses Grant loved cucumbers soaked in vinegar to eat!
He probably saved his hide since he declined to join Abe in his theater suite!
Woodrow Wilson was plagued with indigestion and was blind in one eye.
He had a pet sheep named Old Ike that chewed tobacco and that ain't no lie!
Cal Coolidge used a paucity of words so that many folks thought him dead!
He liked his head rubbed with Vaseline while eating his breakfast in bed!
Harry Truman kept a sign on this desk that read, "The Buck Stops Here!"
Remembered will be his scorching letter to an editor defending Margaret's career!
'Tis well-known that Ronnie Reagan dearly loved Nancy and jelly beans,
And was happiest at his ranch riding a horse and wearing old jeans!
And finally, from Barack Obama we learned that there are fifty-seven states,
And that he makes skillful use of a teleprompter to ensure there are no misstates!
Th-th-thats all folks - more than you ever wanted to know about these chaps!
(There's much more I could reveal but it best be kept under close wraps!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Water Witch
Alcazar’s crystal pools
Rim their ancient holes
Of time and place where the minx
Links her Pagan spells.
She watches them perform
On me,
Her dry, untainted lover
Where’s there’s no escaping
Her magic
She swims and circles my body
That’s begging
She smiles and spirits me
To her astral home
And Sinks me into her
Wet forever.
M.A. Buchanan
COPYWRITE 2014
MaryAnn Buchanan
OCTOBER SUNSET
We love the dying light;
The sudden nature of the golden day.
Then watch the weightless clouds
Cover covens of moody hills,
Startup burning colors and
Stalk the trees to smolder
Under a slow burn that glows
Tints and frames designer eyes.
Behold!
Watch it tuck its red heart
Into the cold ground.
Miranda
Witty, wife, sister, mother
Sister of Cindy
Lover of freedom, grace, and hugs.
Who feels close to God, much love from my husband and the need to help
Who fears car crashes, dogs and my last daughter at home leaving.
Who would like to see, the country from a cab of an 18 wheeler, island sunset and plays on the stage.
Resident of Buchanan MI
Hawley
Greek George Allen
1828-1913
Seegh no mee.
Ah, I see we have not been introduced.
Please, if you will, call me George, George Allen.
In life, I was a greek from Smyrna,
Hired by the United States Army,
Long ago when Buchanan was president,
Employed because of my tenacious skill,
Riding atop a grunting dromedary,
Riding and gliding over the great American landscape,
Bringing the supplies for the Butterfield Overland,
Riding day and night most of the time,
From St. Louis to my final home, Los Angeles;
The American Camel Corps we were!
The eight of us: Me, Mico, Long Tom, Short Tom,
And the others, all hard as quartz;
To the virgin western wilderness we went,
Never slowing down our momentous movements,
Or ever looking back in timid fear.
And so, with sweaty craft, and
A satchel full of lucky days,
We completed the route in a year!
And as for the notorious Senor Tiburcio, well,
Do not judge this old skeleton here!
I let him live out back in my stable house;
I minded my own business!
It was either that, or
A single gunshot to my head!
“Eese malaka!”
But I never saw any reward money, I swear,
When the relentless inexorable law
Finally captured and led him to the gallows;
“Pronto.”
This dirt here, senor, belongs to you!
Seegh no mee.
I must leave you now,
And find rest in this calming Mexican dirt,
Here in shady Mt. Olive Cemetery.
Mary Ann Buchanan, copy write 2014
THE FATE OF ATROPOS
I like to tell myself
“I am a dreamer “.
But, it’s not always true.
I’m afraid of the shoe that drops
Like others, I fear the sudden
Knock at the door.
I dread being poor, and worry
The fury of telling false truth.
The proof is; it attracts Atropos,
The Sister of Old Women-
Who likes to scare me.
But, I still dream a lot.
I like to tell her who cuts.
So what? Why not?
There’s a teacher out in Morro Bay
Who won’t celebrate Presidents Day
Washington—Lincoln
Sure—Now you’re thinkin’
But Pierce and Buchanan? No way!
2/18/22
St. James Discernment Question Answers
Thank you answering these questions and helping the Discernment Committee
with it's work.
From: James Thomas Horn
#1 Remember a moment that was a high point, when you felt our church was doing God's work
and fulfilling its mission... What was happening?
Answer1: Choir was singing at Arbor Landing for Christmas and I was in
the choir. What we always would desire, Was to be singing in the
choir; Each sound, Made hearts pound; Our singing had been
designed to inspire. It was a joyous experience watching people
enjoying our singing. They had a piano there we should have used.
#2 Name three things you value most about this congregation.
Answer2:
Friendliness
Sincerity
Thoughtfulness
#3 Look back over your entire life... recall a time when you most appreciated the ministry of a priest.
What was happening? What did you appreciate?
Answer3: When my dad was killed on active duty in Navy and I was 15 and
an acolyte in an Episcopal Church in 1956. Joe Buchanan was his
name at Church of the Epiphany in Norfolk, VA on Lafayette
Boulevard. I still remember church and his name.
#4 What will be our congregation's 3 most exciting, energizing, and important accomplishments to you
over the next 3 years?
Answer4:
Continue being a motivating factor in local community.
Provide a group who is interested in preparing and reading
poetry.
Have a quarterly musical recital and invite whole neighborhood
to it.
Comments: Say a prayer for Father Dave's brother who is severely ill in
Atlanta, GA. Oh, and it was great having young workers come here
from Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, NC area.
Your response has been emailed to the Discernment Committee
“I am somebody’s child, and I need attention, I am somebody’s child and I need affection, I am somebody’s child and I need love and devotion”, she murmured as she walked through the door. She wasn’t sure where she was going when she left the house; she wasn’t sure about the next encounter, but she walked for five hours until she reaches the border.
The speed, at which she moved, left everyone confused but she was determined to make a point just to stay alive. She did not plan a journey she just wanted to live, and hang out with the daffodils but the trap was already set before they made the bet. She could sense it from within and so she had to learn to swim; with strength in her arms and strides in her feet, she made it through the dark before the break of dawn.
They searched everywhere for her, but they could not find her, the public became aware of it and they start to build a myth. Officer Jones devised a plan to begin the search mission he knew what he had up his sleeve, because he was so hard to please. He had laid the ground work to start digging up dirt, to catch the big fish and throw them back into the ditch, the climate was right and the alibi was riding high in the sky.
The search went on for days with no sight of her abducted in the bush or held captive by the brook; it was just one of those situations where you have to keep on top of things before the universe done you in.
The cheese, and the pie, the crown and the dye were just too reveling so they had to search for another meaning, and the sky was their only hope to keep sailing on the boat and so the narrative changed to give her all the blame.
Was it a crime torn area or someone lost their way and bumped into a criminal flattering in the sky that is a one-hundred-dollar question from a village miner who could not fit the pieces together for the director or the operator.
And so, the question remains, whose back was she trying to cover? My mind wander and wander and it didn’t look like a deal that turned sour, neither was it a set up by gate to discover something before it was too late. Everything seems to be in perfect harmony with the guitar, the piano, the band and the musical director.
The great Gatsby would have won the case if Tom Buchanan had not shot him in the pool over the death of Myrtle Wilson his darling wife. "I am somebody’s child," she screamed.
I SAVED THESE WORDS FOR YOU
By M.A. Buchanan, copyright 2014
When crying for us makes you sad
I saved these words for you.
Don’t fear the tears sweetheart.
Their rain serves you well;
They keep your heart clean.
And though the road
Burns dry and dear for me
In Spanish said, “ lluvia torrencial” with regret.
Such tears will rinse away these fears.
Your inner road will judge and deem
And gleam and gleam again.
Once started, that road will not end or need to,
It does not leave you because it is original
And though our love may not seem to fit - it is the same,
It is authentic and upright and has value,
No matter what road may bear ahead
Or what others want to say
Your spiritual light and education
Will stay and never leave you.
And with its tears, serve you well.
When you stop to think about it…
I’m talking old movies with
All these old familiar faces
How names incredibly pop into your head
Bit players
In movies 70 and more years old
Edgar Buchanan
Leon Errol
Binnie Barnes
And strangely lots of names
Some of the more famous actors
Names escape memory
When you stop to think about it…..
How miraculous
They live
All dead but quite alive
The impressive buildings on the Glasgow sky
Compliment life on the River Clyde
With its many secrets it cannot hide
But that is life in Glasgow.
From the understated Squinty Bridge
And George Square to Buchanan Street
Makes it hard for a "Weegie" to leave
But that is life in Glasgow.
A "Weegie" takes the good and bad
Supporting a British with Scottish flag
And tension flows between the clans
But that is life in Glasgow.
It's music and it's celebrity stars
Do not hide its gangster past
No such thing as a "Weegie" facade.
But that is life in Glasgow.
Glasgow life gets under your skin
The richness of a life it brings
A melting pot of good and sin
But that is life in Glasgow.
M.A. Buchanan
COPYRIGHT 2014
LOST LOVERS
THE RAIN IS THE MATTER.
IT’S WATER TEEMING ABUNDANT
WITH WILD ABANDON
THE LOVERS SURRENDERED
WITH COMING AND
GOING SUCKLING THRILLS
UPON STOLEN PASSION
THE PASSION’S THE MATTER
FLOODING AND FLASHING
SHEETS OF DESIRE
OVERLAPPING
AGAINST
BUTTERY SHORES
IN WAVE AFTER WAVE
BRINGING UNDULATION AND
SPREADING SEA OVER-LAND
DRAGGING THEM DOWN UNDER
HIDDEN PLACES THEY BUILT
STILL YET, THEY THOUGHT THE
STARS AND HEAVENS APPROVED
EVEN THAT PROVED DEFENSE-LESS
AGAINST IT’S SCUTTLE- BY GUILT.