EME Faculty
Some Poetry for You by R. Larry Grayson
O love, my dream, my dreary life's one hope,
Please save my sinking heart from deep despair.
All happiness eludes me now -- I cannot cope
With sadness, 'less your love you do declare.
I seek Desire to aid my cause, my quest
For true romance; I'll conjure Cupid, too,
Who'll get for me the only loveliness
I need, or want: the loveliness of you.
So press your lips on my desirous lips,
Help fuse our hearts by turning passion on.
You'll soon behold phantasmagoric trips
When Love has drugged your soul, your mind's own pawn.
Relent, my love, for Cupid's small'st demand
Not you, nor I, nor anyone could e'er remand.
~ Published in The Best Poems & Poets of 2005, The International Library of Poetry, 2005; copyrighted by R. Larry Grayson.
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My beautiful Mackie loves Our Love,
Our deepest and utmost Being.
She responds with tender quietness
As It happens while ever fleeing.
Our passion is deep, though others may doubt,
By our banal actions and sounds;
No way these two could really care --
No affection or kindness truly abounds.
She and I stormily confess
Our Love is jealous and ever will be.
Just one slight wrong and the essence
Of It will die for eternity.
At the end of the day, as the children rest again,
We begin to feel alone and real.
The Love that born our very start
Stirs our still fervent, dynamic appeal.
Our relationship is stronger than anyone
Could ever believe, or even imagine.
People rarely know from whence
Or how such deep love can happen.
But I swear, till the day
That my death will be nigh,
My Mackie I will love
Even beyond my last sigh.
~ Published in Labours of Love, The International Society of Poetry, 2005; copyrighted by R. Larry Grayson
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Just Thanking God for His Creation
As now I view a plane aflight,
Perched in the quiet of the night,
My mind begins to ponder
On life, that ancient wonder.
In yon dark sky, so black, yet clear,
I feel a profound answer's near;
I know it's much beyond a game,
More than a superficial name.
A life is blessed upon a man,
Bestowed by God's creating hand.
He makes him want to fully live
And grants him love to wisely give.
But . it is even more than this;
It has more meaning than a kiss
That's given in the height of love,
That is, it's guided from above.
Thus, in the night as a soft wind
So gently parts my thoughts, I end
The day in pensive meditation
Just thanking God for His creation.
~ Published in The Best Poems and Poets of 2004, The International Library of Poetry, 2004; copyrighted by R. Larry Grayson.
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This City with a River Running Through It
I came to this city a year ago
Not knowing it -- its people,
Its culture, its essence;
But a friend, from far away,
Knew it well and instilled in me
An anticipatory near-prescience.
In this city with a river running through it,
There is a pristine power, a thunder
In a city-current which exhilarates the mind.
It is not buildings that roar
Or a bustling, harried crowd,
But confident, smiling friends you'll find.
Independence of will is manifest here, too;
But it is a cooperative one
Which is founded on earned respect.
If you stand straight as a pine
And care as those here do,
Then your kindness they will resurrect.
And yes . I must remark on a verdure
That mellows in a long day's sun;
It is an unsurpassed tapestry.
God's own hands molded the bold pattern
Of rocks and trees, water and sky.
It forever calls for you and me.
~ Published in What Tomorrow Holds, The International Library of Poetry, 2001; copyrighted by R. Larry Grayson.
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She frolics in the dewy morn
As free and gay as dreams unborn.
A simple life and mind has she -
Fulfills a simple destiny.
A noble nose and sincere eyes
Bedight a wisdom on her guise.
Delightful ears flop up and down
Not more than inches from the ground.
A new plaything to gnaw and chew
Is all she needs, or wants to do.
Old, knotted socks or leather balls
She champs between incessant jaws.
Intrepid bones compose her frame,
But in her heart there burns a flame
Of loyalty and love for me,
Of innate joy for revelry.
She spends her daytime bantering,
Reclines at night recovering.
Endeared to me is my Caprice
Of noble nose and blackened fleece.
~ Published in Best Poems of 1997,The National Library of Poetry, 1997; copyright by R. Larry Grayson.
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Pristine passions, enslaving both body and mind,
Sear inwardly as the lovers heighten their senses.
Coupled with intense prurient desire, they find
Precious time alone, shedding all pretenses.
Quickened breaths and exhilaration translate to incipient bonding
As nocturnal rendezvous transform into insatiable trysts.
While touching and feeling and embracing, unrelenting
Sensory pulses melt all barriers as they kissed
"Love, I think." And later, "Love, for sure,"
Wafted solemnly through pursed, just-parted lips,
As the two burned together, hoping that night would endure
And God would stall the next day through supernatural eclipse.
"A boy, a girl ... a cat -- and a home," were shared
As the wedding approached and they captured their essence.
An eternal love, fueled by this passion, yet tempered by patience most rare,
Would be renewed unforgettably in conjugal eloquence.
A man, a woman, three cats, and three homes evolved
From this most holy union, with an ageless yearning still burning!
The lovers, now sated and forgiving, remain resolved
To last forever -- far beyond the lives they are living.
~ Published in Best Poems of the '90s: Sound of Poetry, The National Library of Poetry, 1996; copyright by R. Larry Grayson.
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Such love and care is very rare
Among God's children -- here and there;
Their kindly style says, "Stay awhile
And rest your worries as we share
Some happy memories and smile."
The world can grind and twist the mind
Away from things we need to find;
It keeps us down -- oft with a frown -
Devoid of will as friends remind
Us how to reach still solid ground.
With them a brief stay gives relief.
It mends my heart, renews belief
And heals my pain as I regain
My worth to them and friends. My grief
Is gone, my soul renewed again!
I thank them now; I will somehow
Return their love -- and this I vow:
I will be there if they despair,
Returning love for love, but bow
To them who taught that special care.
~ Published in Best Poems of 1996, The National Library of Poetry, 1996; copyrighted by R. Larry Grayson.
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Goodbye. I Know You. There's No Tomorrow.
During business, when I'm away,
I get a lonely feeling -- not sorrow.
I miss my family as they say,
"Good night. I love you. See you tomorrow."
My wife is restless on the phone;
My son sounds unexcited.
My daughter asks, "How long will you be gone?"
Her love for me is recited.
We talk about the day's Little League;
The results cause my brow to furrow.
Jenny whispers softly, as if fatigued,
"Goodnight. I love you. See you tomorrow."
The trips are short and infrequent,
A respite from a boring routine.
The journeys I do not resent
Because of new "worlds" I've seen.
Mostly, people are very friendly
As I wander to and fro;
A couple of acquaintances are made -- then ending:
Goodbye. I know you. There's no tomorrow.
~ Published in Shadows and Light, The National Library of Poetry, 1996; copyrighted by R. Larry Grayson.
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Gods mingled with mortals on that fatal day
When Achilles mourned Patroclos and started to slay.
Hector, the hero, swept the plain the day before
But did not discern the fate of the spear he bore.
One lunge forward and a sharp pain in Patroclos' side
Doomed Hector to a fate from which he couldn't hide.
Death and darkness were to cover his eyes
As deemed by Fate and Zeus Allwise.
Back against the fortified wall of Troy
The Achaians pushed the Trojans, man and boy.
Driven into the gates of home by force
Were all except Hector, who stood without recourse.
On sped Achilles at the Trojan's sight,
Prepared for a long and grueling fight.
Each cursed vengeance to fulfill his wrath;
Each struck a blow with his spear-headed staff.
Fate doomed Hector, but he bravely vied
Till Achilles sharp spear finally pierced his side.
Down fell the greatest of the defenders of Troy,
Honored as a god and bestowed great glory.
~ Published in The Rainbow's End, The National Library of Poetry, 1996; copyrighted by R. Larry Grayson.
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A mockingbird, atop a chestnut tree,
Sarcastic in demeanor and in song,
Began deriding and condemning me
For mingling with humanity so long.
It urged that I withdraw today before
Complexity could render me effete.
What's more, its exhortation had in store
An urgency portentous of defeat.
"Dumb bird!" said I, "Your logic's out of sight!
Do you believe that I could simply leave
My way of life while merely heeding fright?
Hegira can't resolve this state we grieve.
As abject as conditions are, no worse
Are they than low and wont abandonment.
So, my chiding, mocking friend, perverse
In may ways, it's you who must relent.
No, bird, I need my human company.
I can't endure if I'm alone;
I need someone to ever comfort me.
Abandonment I never could condone."
~ Published in Best Poems of 1995, The National Library of Poetry, 1995; copyrighted by R. Larry Grayson.
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The first few fleeting days of spring
Are spent to change the hillsides green,
As trees unfold umbrellas from
Aside their trunks as they succumb
To springtime's calling, beating drum.
A semblance of a Bacchic ball,
Enjoyed amid this verdure mall,
Resounds sonorously afar
And stirs reposing distant stars,
As all indulge at Nature's bar.
The tapestry of sylvan hues
Is complemented by the blues
From skyward glances now and then.
A branch is graced by lighting wrens
Which conjured rain for winter's end.
This time is so ethereal,
But, too, it is ephemeral.
It steals away but will return
As soon as warmth upends the urn
Of winter's dominance, in turn.
~ Published in Echoes of Yesterday, The National Library of Poetry, 1995; copyrighted by R. Larry Grayson.