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Zachary Mcclure Poem
He gazed across the wind swept meadow
To a lone tree standing there
Its jagged, silhouette surrendered
‘neath a sky more fiery embered
Than
His flaming hair, which crowned him then.
But--- it was neither tree nor sky
That stole his youthful eye.
It was
The tire swing
Whispering, promising,
“ With-me, you can fly ! ”
The boy lept across the meadow
Like a deer panting for water,
Till at last
He climbed aboard his dream.
His round, black, holed
Flying machine.
Then, holding tight, and bending to and fro
With all his might
Began to drive, began to glide
Against The sinking sun
Till
It was night outside
Across the starry, littered sky
Beneath the moon’s soft lullaby
Ascending ever higher
Make believing he’s a flyer,
He smiles,
As he tips a wing.
He is an aviator.
He is the sky king!
And all because of one
Old tire swing.
Copyright © Zachary Mcclure | Year Posted 2008
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Zachary Mcclure Poem
This was to be their first, grand journey.
Who would dare believe?
Sarah Maple, and Ol’ Bear
Her special, robot teddy!
Both, strapped inside Securely;
Await a lifetime ride;
Her heart is jumping, as
Her nine-ish, choc’ late eyes grow wide.
Fear mixes with Excitement;
Humility with pride;
When she realizes she’s
Histories first starfolk child.
Soon, they would be riding,
Fiery, rolling, thunder, cloud
above the humid dawn. Destination:
International Space Station.
Then, tucking one loose lock of
Coal-black hair behind her ear;
Glances sideward to Ol’ Bear…and gulps.
He gives one soothing wink to Sar. She smiles.
Then, hanging on
For all they’re worth,
They soon are floating
High, above the earth.
Copyright © Zachary Mcclure | Year Posted 2008
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Zachary Mcclure Poem
Today, glimpsed I, a curious sight
A mound of snow, no longer white.
It basked alone, upon brown grass
It seemed to say, this too shall pass
When greener days shall come to be
When spring soon covers every tree
With robins nests and leaves of green
This mound of snow shall cease to be.
And so, in passing by, paid my respects
To winter and to all of its effects
And bid springtime my warmest welcome.
For as long as this old earth shall spin
God has ordained each winter’s end
Yea, God has ordained each spring begin.
Copyright © Zachary Mcclure | Year Posted 2008
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Zachary Mcclure Poem
A silken gray pathway
For fleecy clouds to roam.
A single star called Sun
To smile down on our home.
These all were made, to say
To we who live below;
To us, the breathing dust:
“You’re not alone. ”
A tiny sparrow died.
Somewhere, sometime today.
She’s fallen from the sky,
Yet- just a prayer away.
These all were made, to say
To we, alive below;
To us the breathing dust:
“You’re not alone.”
A million little sparrows
heaped high could not compare
to one immortal soul
Within His perfect care.
These all were made, to say
To we, alive below;
To us the breathing dust,
“You’re not alone.”
A fleecy cloud, a sun
anchored, in Heaven high
remind us there is One
Who beholds us with His eye.
To you, His breathing dust:
“You’re not alone.”
Copyright © Zachary Mcclure | Year Posted 2008
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