Best Harrison Poems
Harrison Park is large
It has a trailer park
The people camp out
They spend their summer
In this park is a restaurant
All the food is home made
This place is always packed
They are enjoying their meal
The park has visitors
Rain or shine people come
To visit the small zoo
To see animals
There are cages with birds
They are different species
A partridge waits to show
His pretty feathers spread
For evryone to see
he likes to display them
For everyone to see
To show off his colors
William Harrison Hardy
1823 - 1906
I believe a fair introduction is in order here.
Not that a handshake from me could ever take place anytime soon.
I was Captain Bill Hardy:
Proud Indian fighter!
And celebrated toll road builder!
I was the one who built the big road
From San Bernardino to Prescott Arizona!
And it was I, Captain Bill Hardy,
Who founded old Hardyville in Arizona
On the sandy banks of the cool Colorado.
Back when Lincoln was still warm
And the blood of Gettysburg was still not dry.
Back when the old west was coming alive
With wagon wheels and railroad ties.
Growing as a child would
With intrepid enterprise and such derring-do
The likes of which few eyes have seen since!
I came out west from New York
As Captain of a California-bound wagon train
And found a fortune in gold in Placer County.
But it was in the Arizona Territory where I later
Made my mark, and lost my fortune.
Oh my friends. I found out.
Found out what plain hard work can accomplish
And I learned of its resultant riches.
I found out.
Found out what plain greed and dishonesty can accomplish
And I learned of its resultant poverty.
Alas, I was but a survivor in life,
And that was my final legacy.
My friends, have you ever stared death straight in the face?
Have you ever seen the eyes of a wanton murderer
Only an inch away from your own eyes?
Nothing is more frightening and more sobering than that!
But I, Captain Bill Hardy, at your service please,
Experienced it first-hand that day in the scalding desert sand.
That Indian devil was right there!
His nose next to my nose!
But I got away!
Ran away from that place and lived to tell about it!
My friends, next time you come to Clark Cemetery in Whittier,
Go to the eastern fence by Dorland Street,
At the corner there, you will find my little plot of land.
It is a far cry from having an entire city named after you!
But it is a fine and restful spot.
Come closer and lean down to me.
I wish to extend my firm handshake to you all!
My ode to William Henry Harrison, 9th President
of the United States, yet barely known.
A Founding Father’s son and longtime frontier resident,
Brave military leader to the bone.
His victories in uniform stacked up along the way,
rarely defeated at the battle line.
As President, though, died in office one month to the day,
now nobody remembers Number Nine.
He served the House of Representatives a term or two;
in politics, he always did excel.
First Governor of Indiana Territory, too -
Ohio’s 13th Senator, as well.
As Major General, Will fought the War of 1812,
as well as several wars along the way.
His worth, though, as a President, historians will shelve
for lasting only one month to the day.
He married sweetheart Anna in the Fall of ’95,
she bore her husband many children - ten!
Although her health was poor, Anna was Queen Bee to the hive,
their son’s son: future POTUS, Benjamin.
There’s no one I would rather have protect my garrison,
though in the end pneumonia held its sway.
A military hero, William Henry Harrison -
Ninth President, just one month to the day.
That sweet singing guitar,
Magic from finger tips
When only tender thirteen
George, you serenaded me
That boy in awe,
This man still is
Your wonderful quiet demeanor,
Spoke volumes of you
My heart softly weeps,
For I'll miss you
Rock star, then hero
Such a gentle human
Such a magnificent friend,
Still, there is joy
Together again with John,
Sweet Lord embracing you
Will pray for you,
Please pray for me
Left behind on Earth,
Hoping someday to follow
So many love you,
Including my dearest lady
Greeting you in Heaven,
Embrace her for me
Knowing when you arrive,
Heaven, one angel brighter
Playing your glorious music,
John by your side
One last thought George,
Won't it be Super!
Paul and Ringo joining,
Command Performance, before God
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
Synonymous with my childhood
A metaphor for adventure;
If anyone could do it he could ,
His spirit never fractured;
He could beguile
with a whip or a blaster;
Or even with his smile,
Every tool mastered;
A Silver Screen Titan
Filled with sarcastic discord;
Each character an icon,
the unstoppable Harrison Ford.
George Harrison
Quiet Beatle by comparison
Kermit the Frog was one of his peeps
Still his guitar gently weeps
Paul wrote songs he
sang with his guitar.
The “cute” one, he
has come amazingly far!
The “smart” one John
went successfully solo, but
one tragic day got
murdered by a nut.
George, smoker, lead guitarist
and spiritual, “quiet” one,
got cancer. He’d composed
“Here Comes the Sun.”
Ringo, the Beatles’ drummer,
met his second wife
filming “Caveman.” They’ve enjoyed
a long, rich life.
he knew
his time had come
embraced it reluctantly
and completely in his way
with pen in hand
poised over paper
words seemed to come easily for him
and he used them
to describe the mystery
of beauty and resilience of life
in all he saw around him
the world could not contain him
his print pressed the earth with all the force
of energy and will he could summon from a body
slowly wracked and weakened with pain
but he persisted and endured
as he gradually wore it down
until the pain became too hard to bear
so he sat alone
in his cabin
trembling and fearless
while light slowly ebbed
into darkness and
silence ruled the hour
in his honor
Harrison Ford of action movie fame
Han Solo, a hero's name he can claim
Though not a Jedi Knight
He fought for what was right
Always wound up with a beautiful dame
Then took the role of Indiana Jones
An archaeologitst who studied bones
Although he hated snakes
Indy had what it takes
An ample pair of courageous cajones
Hope for eternal life
Always the firstborn son
Really glad to be alive
Ready to travel
Interesting story teller,
Smart
Only young for a short time
Nice and sweet, and proud of his accomplishments
a tribute to Harrison Hilley in my children's church class.
Written: May 5th, 2025, for contest by Brian Strand
Painting by Peter Doig. A concise abstract on Abbey Road and its pivotal moment. He subsequently produced outstanding music. His music resembled pleasant dew cascading as melodic notes, like honey smeared on leavened bread.
******************
George Harrison
moving toward a liquid abyss
after Abbey Road--
where no sunlight can seep into the hall
surrounding the mirrored pool
he draws the guitar strings
with notched arrows
tipped in flint
striking sparks
like match heads ignited
on concrete sidewalks
during the golden hour
heavy with humid
condensation
coating every surface
with sweet dew
musical notes drip down
like honey spread
on warm yeasty bread
1)www.wikiart.org/en/joaqu-n-sorolla/church-roncal-stairs by
2)www.artgeek.io/exhibitions/5bfdb7a272a1460a46f77fab/5bfdb7a272a1460a46f77faa by T. C. Cannon
3)www.wikiart.org/en/johannes-vermeer/the-milkmaid