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Jean Porter Poem
Halloween night
A few years ago
As dusk fell
It was blowing with snow
Billy Burke a young boy aged eight
Stayed after school until it was late
Helping teacher clear the party debris
When they left school they could hardly see
Teacher wanted to give Billy a ride
But brave little Billy politely declined
I'm taking the short cut thru the woods
And as he set out he drew up his hood
The wind howled and the air cold
As Billy struggled up another knoll
The trees were bare glistening with frost
Then Billy realized he was hopelessly lost
He should have seen his home by now
But all he saw was a broken down plow
Left in a clearing by a farmer years ago
Rusty and useless now covered with snow
Billy trudged on with beginnings of fright
But as he topped a rise a welcoming sight
The old Colby mansion but what was that din
Music and laughter he heard from within
The mansion had been abandoned for years
But not empty now he could tell by his ears
Billy drew closer light spilled on the snow
Thru the open door he stepped out of the cold
A Halloween costume party he saw at a glance
And by a blazing fireplace took up a stance
Carved out pumpkins had candles inside
These lit the room and the hallway besides
Billy saw monsters and a witch on a broom
His eyes opened wide as she flew about the room
How did she do that he wanted to know
But the guests only laughed in the fire's glow
They played games and ate party food
Then Billy hid a yawn he didn't want to be rude
He was bundled in his coat and sent on his way
But Billy protested he wanted to stay
However in a flash he was on the outside
The witch guest acting as guide
She led him back through the trees
Took him up on her broom when he said please
Billy looked down on the houses below
As they flew around town high above the snow
The storm had passed and they saw the moon
He was set down by his home and she flew off in the gloom
Billy went back to the mansion the next day at dawn
Imagine his surprise everything was gone
Dust thickly covered the furniture in the room
But in a cobwebbed corner he found the witch's broom
He remembered the witch goblins and ghosts
And the Count Dracula who acted as host
The dust in the mansion lay undisturbed on the wood
Except by the fireplace where Billy had stood
No one believed the story he told
Of Halloween night being lost in the cold
He stuck by his story they didn't know why
But you and I both know Billy wouldn't lie
Copyright © Jean Porter | Year Posted 2007
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Details |
Jean Porter Poem
Landslides, earthquakes, strip mining, deforestation, tornadoes, blizzards,
floods, volcanoes, hurricanes - some of these are man-made intervention -
recipes for disaster. Our planet is depleted and dying, we must find a new
home, Searching - searching - - - through endless space. After months we
see it - THERE - in the Milky Way Galaxy - third planet from the sun - virgin
wilderness with vast oceans, tropical forests teeming with life, we can
colonize here and thrive. We leave some colonists and move on searching,
but we leave runways in the earth to commemorate our passing and, perhaps
to find our way back again one day if the need arises. It is hoped these
colonists will learn from the past and honor the new planet so it may shelter
them for aeons to come.
Copyright © Jean Porter | Year Posted 2007
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Jean Porter Poem
A hint of wood smoke in the air
Mornings chill, days are fair
Only a few weeks ago
Hazy and hot humidity the foe
To keep cool what did you do
Walk the beach or dip in the pool
To fill your summer memories book
Will you often think of the walks you took
Hiking, sailing whatever the sport
Or maybe some tennis on the court
Cookouts, clambakes with family and friends
Some of those days were as gems
Maybe baseball was more your pace
Or watching the America Cup Race
A friendly place was the ocean
Now it's full of angry motion
Soon breakers will crash the shore
Where gentle wavelets lapped before
Remember again those summer days
When Spring seems so far away
Flowers slumber in their beds
While leaves turn to gold and reds
Indian Summer the final farewell
Before Winter covers valleys and dells
Copyright © Jean Porter | Year Posted 2007
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Details |
Jean Porter Poem
We found this planet
Third from the sun
And knew without doubt
This was the one
We built a culture and
A civilization so pure
Everything was possible
Everything was sure
Diseases were non-existent
Quality of life was long
No one here died of germs
To be denied a cure was wrong
Giant crystals stored energy
Gathered from the sun
Fossil fuels were never used
From the earth were not wrung
From within came the destroyers
Close to our souls
Greed was their motivator
Power was their goal
Appealing to them was futile
For compassion there was no room
Turning crystals and lasers to tools of war
Spelled our ultimate doom
An accidental miscalculation
Split the continent apart
Sinking slowly beneath the waves
Which left not a mark.
Copyright © Jean Porter | Year Posted 2007
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Details |
Jean Porter Poem
Had a dream the other night
Birds stayed, did not take flight
October came, November too
But temperatures were the same as June
What was happening do you suppose
Was Autumn holding back the cold
It could not for it's only a season
There had to be another reason
The leaves of trees did not turn
Nor did the bushes or the ferns
Grass stayed green, flowers bloomed
Was our winter season doomed
For who can forget a winters morn
When it seems the world is new reborn
Winter's white mantle upon the ground
And nothing but silence all around
Insects slumber, some birds are gone
But there are natives who give us song
Bluejays, chickadees, sparrows too
Silhouetted against the sky so blue
The winter season is a must
Or skis and sleds would gather dust
Who can deny the earth a rest
Mother Nature still knows best
Some think the winter harsh
But Spring returns in the month of March
Cursing winter can be terribly mean
For you might find you get your dream
Copyright © Jean Porter | Year Posted 2007
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