Best Towne Poems
George W. Towne
1847 – 1899
From Iowa I came by restless wagon train.
From the mid-west I arrived
With satchel and silken scalp still intact.
I read Proverbs and Ecclesiastes to pass the time.
I read the Gospels of John and Luke.
I read Harriet Beecher Stowe and
I read John Greenleaf Whittier.
I saw the icy Rocky Mountains beckon me to the west
Waving their invisible fluid fingers
Like blond ballerinas in silent ever-moving tableaux.
I saw the railroad snake through the endless golden valleys.
And I saw the muddy roads converge
Under a hundred bee-infested pepper trees.
And it was here in this new colony I found a home
For my wife Fannie and our three dubious children.
You could always spot me in the distance,
Walking down Pickering Street.
For I was the dapper one in black derby hat
Taking the cash in the Greenleaf Avenue millinery.
I was the suited one in dusty black,
Winking and bowing to the lovely ladies
Showing my respect but imagining something else
Deep within my empty searching soul.
I was the tall, cleanly shaven erudite
Who had memorized the entire Gospel of John
And walked the northern foothills at sunset
Wearing my ever-present derby hat
And meeting, yes,
Secretly meeting Lucy Swain
Under the tall cedar tree on Rideout Ranch.
Confession is indeed good for the soul.
Confession has always allowed a good but dishonest man to sleep soundly.
To sleep long languorous hours on a cold winter’s night.
To sleep for an eternity without guilt or regrets
Under the hardened forgotten dirt of Clark Cemetery.
For I was the handsome one in derby hat
And only Lucy and I knew,
Only she and I knew intimately
About the patch of soft carpet-like grass,
There under the tall silent cedar tree
On Rideout Ranch.
Categories:
towne, death,
Form:
Epitaph
Lucy Swain
1861 - 1896
Lies! Lies! All damnable lies!
I know the injustice of malicious gossip.
I know the outrage of a loose evil tongue.
In life, I was Lucy Swain, the maligned!
I was Lucy Swain, the indignant!
In truth, I was Lucy Swain, the law-abiding, god-fearing victim
Who resided over on Milton Avenue
With her bent-over heart-broken mother.
In fact, I was Lucy Swain, the innocent weeping victim
Of a thousand cruel hypocritical stares.
And so, let me shout it out
As loudly as my silent soul can,
From my deep grave here in Clark Cemetery:
I never set foot, not once, on Rideout Ranch!
I never set eyes on the winking blue orbs
Of the devastatingly handsome George Towne,
That philandering cad with the fine derby hat.
I never tasted the warm pulsating kisses from his sweet-tasting, pursed lips.
And I never felt the caressing electric touch
Of his firm groping fingers upon my bosom,
There, under the old cedar tree on Rideout Ranch!
Lies! All lies!
And as God is my witness
I never spent even one gloriously romantic moment
In the embrace of the incredibly strong arms
Of the sexy man married to Fannie Towne!
Amen!
Categories:
towne, death,
Form:
Epitaph
Famous Last Line
ORIGINAL POEM
(Loveliness ---Acrostic)
L~etting out a gasp, the young man stared at the pretty face.
O~pening the curtains, he noticed a
V~evil covering the beautiful
E~nearing visage of a young
L~ady who sat upon purple velvet cushions.
I~nite resting was the decor of the patterned interior of
N~eedlework with gold and purple threads.
E~nursing that the horses were well fastened, the footman
S~lid some cushioned steps before the carriage doors;
S~o that this adorable lady may step down. How gorgeous she looked!
NEW POEM
Famous Last Line:
"So that this adorable lady may step down. How gorgeous she looked"!
(Romanticism)
An adorable lady stepping down from the carriage,
How gorgeously stunning she looked!
Mesmerized and in awe, dumfounded and tongue-tied,
The young man stood as though in a trance.
As is the custom of the 1300s, it was "proper" for
This lady to wear a veil over her beautiful face.
Sid, the love-afflicted well clad gent,
Was determine in becoming the lady's beau.
The Footman having gone for a stroll,
And exquisite stores being opened to peruse,
The lady shopped to her heart's content;
Thus leaving Miss Antasia to carry her parcels.
Seizing the opportunity, the elegant gent
Gallantly stepped forward and offered to help.
Eying him under long lashes, esh curtesied as he bowed;
And allowed him to take the parcels out of her hand.
The carriage doors now locked gave Sid the chance,
To woo this sweet lady in becoming his bride.
What a romance was this tetetet, listening to words,
As Sid leaned against the carriage ardently serenating this maid.
He learnt her name, where she lived and how important her family was.
She in turn found out he was a banker and owned almost half of the towne.
Soon the families were merged, and formed a lasting business bond for all.
These were the days of Romanticism, the American way of yesteryear.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Famous Last Line - Poetry Contest
Poem Title: Famous Last Line.
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Contest Deadline:
3/26/2016 at 12:00:00 AM
Instruction: "Please include your original entry, followed by your new entry."
Categories:
towne, america, beauty, emotions, romantic,
Form:
Romanticism
For years preachers have ranted and raved to control the activities of hookers!
Well, I'm proposin' that the guv-mint control the sale and use of pressure cookers!
We've seen the havoc these lethal weapons wreaked upon Olde Boston Towne.
Congress should act, now that the furor over gun control is settlin' down!
There should be background checks on little old ladies who have a yen for one,
And there should be a waitin' period to buy one just as there is for a gun!
Even though they may be designed to hold twelve quarts when locked and loaded,
Congress should limit capacity to six quarts so as not to be accidentally exploded!
I'm really concerned that I broached this urgent matter, upon serious reflection.
I fear some politico might read this and make it an issue to help in his reelection!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Categories:
towne, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
Written November 17, 2013
The summer dies slowly
Into autumns arms
And winter does linger
Until spring breathes at dawn
I've fallen for you
Cast under your spell
My gaze as stone
As the old towne well
My face as pale
As the moon in the night sky
My heart unspoken
Left wondering why
These days are so chaotic
Yet these nights so serene
Categories:
towne, autumn, death, love, romance,
Form:
Lyric
Relaxing at Ye Olde White Horse Inn in quaint St. George's Towne,
I enjoy another rum swizzle as I watch the crimson sun go down!
Its rays cast a blush of red on fleets of sails cruising St. George's Harbour.
The soothing hiss of waves salve my soul as they roll t'ward the shore.
A magnificent display of varicoloured clouds tint the restless sea.
I sense that the Master Artist has painted this scene exclusively for me!
The rhythmic strains of calypso music wafts across the smooth lagoon.
Soon this paradise will be caressed by the mellow rays of the moon!
I amble up Shinbone Alley to the top of Fort Victoria Hill for to see,
A final glimpse of that ancient orb as it slowly sinks beneath the sea!
I meander back down Olde Maid's Lane to the Carriage Shoppe for tea,
At a quayside table to savor my beautiful Bermuda sunset reverie!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
towne, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
I
4:forty 4 in the a.m. scene
and I had been awakened by
the strangest of dreams:
of an overdressed Lion,
and Gator
And tales
of their peculiar golfcart
that was actually
two young whales,
who would swim them around
from each island and towne
while they both gorged upon snails...
Now, this twosome
(I'm told)
did become very bold.
as they chided and ordered
these blowholes...
and while missing the goal
(on each green, and each shoal)
would dig the sweet clams
of each sand trap...
and then they'd partake
(with some lemon, and cake)
leaving a trail of dead
shells by the golf map,
Said the Lion to He
that was all scale E:
"It's your shot, cause I'm closer
to Home"
so the Gator
(It's said)
did square up his head
And swung
while on his cell phone
to a blabbering Yak
who had stopped
for a snack
of a thick shake
and Cheesey
Big Mac...
Categories:
towne, animals, children, funny, sea,
Form:
Ballad
Mary Yelvington
1876-1910
George Towne, now there was a man;
Handsome as the devil;
Strong as a bougainvillea vine.
And married to the redoubtable Fannie Towne,
Town shill, and occasional teetotaler of the dry brew!
Ol’ Fannie was oblivious to the treasure she owned;
That incredible athlete!
That insufferable charmer!
At least after 3 o’clock, on most afternoons,
She never knew,
Or cared one iota really, where her man was!
Other than the little dramas concerning the Townes,
Life in Whittier, at the turn of the 20th Century,
Was boring, I must say.
Boring as a book with no danger!
Dangerous days never arrived for me,
Nor did I ever make the acquaintance of a dangerous man.
My life’s journey indeed found intended joy,
Ecstatic joy in singing the hymns at church;
And it found surprised sadness as well,
In not surviving pneumonia at age 34.
And now, here I am, buried deep in the dark dirt,
Of shady Mt. Olive Cemetery.
But if only I had tried.
Tried to whistle, and nestle up to the big lug;
The day I saw him at Central Park,
Sitting on a bench with his prim coat and hat,
The incredibly dangerous George Towne!
Categories:
towne, crush,
Form:
Epitaph
Born again and weak no longer
what doesn't kill me makes me stronger
not ready to accept the crushing blows
embrace the highs
defeat the lows
live each day as if it were the last
look to the future
respect the past
love your family remember your friends
for what if tomorrow were to be the end
if it's meant to be it's meant to be
you cannot change your destiny
I look you in the eyes and say
I'm glad to be alive today
to see the sky so blue and clear
to see the stars to far and near
to see the world in all its glory
to relax and read a bedtime story
to see the sights of old London towne
to find a smile amongst the frowns
to hear a bird sing in the tree
to know that I am finally free
a winter frost a grass so green
and all of life crammed inbetween
a newborn baby's tiny cries
a chinese whisper
a lovers sighs
a world of wonders old and new
but most of all a life with you
Categories:
towne, life, love, world, old,
Form:
Free verse
Landmarks From Childhood Out of Order
David J Walker
Perhaps it was just the random
remembrance of landmarks
From a childhood well past
Retracing steps made in snow
as if
They had no better place to go
although
Every day was easy and arrived with
its own adventure
In Summer we sunbathed on the
Crowded shores of Towne Lake
Mother warned of burning
The Autumn air was filled with the
Twentieth Century smell of smoke
From the front yard mountains of
burning leaves on every block
I had forgot the name
For the scent of rain
By the time Spring came
round again
The first year of High School
Overwhelmed with the
Fear of being the first
of the last and lost
The beige tiled hallways had
A history spanning its own eternity
of teachers and names
Of forgotten students
Mrs. Beards Kindergarten class
Taught everyone to tie their shoes
To know their colors
and count to 100
Junior High was an awkward Pimple fest
But the worst was dyslexia and
Puberty attacking in a two-front war
On my misplaced adolescent identity
Was there a better day to be born
With a different date
Was there a year when I would
Better fit in
I remember an assembly in elementary school
That father attended
He said nothing but I was so happy
To sit beside him
I remember a western festival in high school
That father came to
He was smiling though
at 16
I felt obligated
To ignore him
I remember Field Day the last day of the 6th grade
before the summer of Jr High
I remember the disappointment of the girl who
Would only date boys of her own religion
I remember her dropping out
to have a baby
I remember someone walked me
to my first day of class in kindergarten
It might have been my Mother
Categories:
towne, allegory, childhood,
Form:
Free verse
The Towne Centre clock shows that it’s midnight
Chiming with that eerie sound that’s morbid
Middle of town lives in a spooky light
Bringing a feeling of gloom that’s horrid
The pumpkins are lit from within this night
People are walking with fear, sadly said
There’s nothing greater than the scare that’s made
Than the Towne Centre clock’s great serenade
Russell Sivey
Categories:
towne, holiday, life,
Form:
Ottava rima
The spiral staircase made her high heels sing
and off the railing with excitement she began swing.
She missed her love that began with a single kiss
and inside her heartfelt story never went amiss.
Towne Square became her place of calm serenity,
a relaxing place that gave her a sense of amenity.
She missed her beloved with a tear in her eye
and by the fount of youth she waited for her guy.
From here the City churches pierced the mist,
the fog began to hover as she waited for her tryst.
He walked along the edge of the fount and saw her smile,
he had been missing her, but the wait was worthwhile.
She picked up her journal she kept of poems of love,
gave it to him with apprehension; he took off his glove.
She told him that it was a book she wrote out of care,
he closed it, and, now smiling, crossed the square.
Holding hands and falling in love all over again,
he kissed her like before and said, “I love you Madeline.”
One Nine and Sixteen Upgrade Version Poetry Contest
May 19, 2018
Categories:
towne, love, miss you,
Form:
Couplet
They stayed focused
they knew if they honed there craft
they could be contenders
and maybe even "champion's"
a world awaited them.
He recalled a match at the
"York's Towne arena" where
dueling reluctacey gave way to
a match which ended in a draw
saw both teams both refusing or
acepting the referree final dec
they lobbied for and got additional time
facing a curfew and possible suspention
if something were to go wrong.
I remember while waiting for the
athelic commission to decide
the locker rooms emptied and
we had guys all around the ring
the crowd was wild and booing.
"The Swarm" ( the guy's outside the ring
said make it a lumberjack match
well that's what the crowd got.
Both sides claim that
the manipulation of balances
caused the stinge in the room a only
an open window could get the
funk were it needed to be.
The match went on for an additional
12;33 were they sawneither side
granting the other victory
at 12;34 a rightcross
started the sequence of
manuvers that lead to a victory
and title change
the "Collaboration of Men" had dethroned
"Status Legend" to be come
World Champions. .
The manuver was called
"Saved to the clouds" a short armed clothesline
and a legdrop follow-up.
The former Champions refused to
comment there schedule to the new champions.
A shedule which would have the World Champions
Unite the World Tiltes with a revival companies crowns.
Citing there commitment to there duty and having been
named champions seven months before
there fist defence
we're they had been challenged all over the world.
"this reign had seen me divoice twice and the birth of four children
I'll be damn Mr. Annoucer" if I'll
let this one go by without a fight!"
The companies board of directers called
an emergency meeting>
Categories:
towne, culture, devotion, money, sports,
Form:
Ballad