If we could teach the world, one thing
it should not be, the price of string
the microwave and why it pings
the endless list, of English kings
the dynasty, of Chinese Ming
the mystery, of golden rings
the history, of Western Swing
No
absolutely none of these things
with all the distraction they would bring
if we could teach the world one thing
we need everybody to stop
we need everyone to listen and look
to hear the little bird that sings
and watch it flap its tiny wings
If we could teach the world one thing
we'll show those people how to dream
above the crazy sounds and scenes
to find all the hope and all the joy
that our imagination just might bring
If we could teach the world one thing
maybe somehow we could learn
the power of ideas, the power of ideals
with courage, decency, justice and truth
from all of those who walked before
Dorchester Labourers, Doctor King
women who did amazing things
in science, politics, literature and more
if we could teach the world one thing.
A Dorchester Christmas
Triple deckers decked in lights
Mostly colors, some just white
Christmas trees all dressed in tinsel
Glow at night though curtain windows
Kids with shovels dot the streets
Digging out from Christmas Eve
Some with smiles, some with frowns
All can’t wait to run back home
In our clan was seven kids
We shared gifts like Irish twins
Sisters got their stereo
Brothers played their pool table
On Christmas Day in Dorchester
Some gifts came from Globe Santa
Three sisters and four brothers
We had less and more than others
Bill MacEachern December 13, 2023
Pegasus symbol intrigued me as a child, maybe it was fate.
Loving it without knowing Greek mythology or the story behind it.
There was something about Pegasus that made me feel great
Inspiration for artists makes sense as I create projects with daily wit.
He also gives power to heroes, so that fits in well too.
Heroes are everywhere, it’s easy to find them all over.
Pegasus, I admire, revere, and welcome your mystical hue.
You have inspired me from Dorchester and Leeds to Andover.
Mary
Mary Eliza Mahoney
birth in 1845 an American black child of former slaves daughter of Mary Jane and Charles Mahoney
at 18 showed interest in healing Humanity
in 1863 and the New England hospital for women and children headed
into the healthcare industry
has a younger sister named Ellen also wanted to become a nurse
but alas she didn't graduate
Mary train long days 16 hours
students then earn $1 to $4 an hour
Mary graduated 1879 as a registered nurse
alongside with three other colleagues as the first black woman nurse in the United States of America
2/6/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2021©
Sunruse: May 7th 1845 Dorchester Massachusetts
Sunset: January 4th 1926 Boston Massachusetts
Nationality: American
Alma mater: New England Hospital for Women and Children
Dull As A Disease
I am sitting in my Dorchester lair,
Behind the door I do feel your mien,
When my poetic muse is in apt flair
You look real as life, my amore mia.
When I am surfing on the internet,
You are there in my click I envisage,
When I initiate to scribe sonnet,
I see you duly embossed on the page.
Sighing, wry face, lips as dry as a leaf
Your green blue deep eyes upraised fully,
Neither the death kills me, nor does the life,
Your very silence eats my soul and body.
Dull as a disease, I die of a thought,
Do not you fancy the same as I ought?.
============================
Date 21-10-13
Dr. Ram Mehta
Third place win
Contest: I Recall by Frank H.
Joanna’s off to London town in this her finest hour’
Ten years of hard labour have brought her to the Tower.
Not the Tower of London where folks have disappeared
But to the Dorchester Hotel to receive a rousing cheer!
Yes she’s finally done it; she’s truly made the grade
from underling, tearaway and paltry lowly maid.
Remember the little ‘Wheelie’ in the shopping mall!
Well that bonnie girl can now stand ten feet tall!
She’s fought against the odds because she had belief,
This has brought success and a great deal of relief:
I am so very proud of you, on this very special day,
a chartered accountant you've become, what more is there to say!!!!
I am sitting in my Dorchester lair,
And behind the door I do feel your mien,
When my poetic muse is in the air,
You look real as life to me, “Amore Mio”.
When I am surfing on the internet,
You are there in my click I envisage,
I initiate to scribe a sonnet,
And lo! I see you embossed on the page.
Sighing, wry face, the lips as a dried leaf,
Your greenish deep eyes upraised fully,
Neither death kills me, nor does lonely life,
But your silence eats my soul and body.
Numb as a disease, I die of a thought,
My love, don’t you sense the same as I aught?
=========================
A Shakespearian sonnet in Iambic Pentameter (ABAB CDCD EFEF GG)
Contest: Loneliness 7Th place win
I am sitting in my Dorchester lair,
Behind the door I feel your mien,
When my poetic muse is in the air,
You look real as life, amore mia.
When I am surfing on the internet,
You are there in my click I envisage,
When I initiate to scribe a sonnet,
I see you embossed on the page.
Sighing, wry face, lips as a dry leaf,
Your green deep eyes upraised fully,
Neither death kills me, nor does life,
Your silence eats my soul and body.
Numb as a disease, I die of a thought,
Don’t you sense the same as I ought?.
=========================
I am sitting in my Dorchester lair,
Behind the door I feel your lovely mien,
The time my poetic muse is in the air,
You look so much real as life, amore mia.
When I am surfing on the internet,
You are there in my click I envisage,
When I initiate to scribe a sonnet,
I could see you embossed on the pages.
Sighing, wry face, the lips as a dry leaf,
Your green blue deep eyes upraised fully,
Neither the death kills me, nor does the life,
Your silence always eats my soul and body.
Numb as a disease, I die of a thought,
Do not you sense the same as I ought do?
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