One autumn on a lonely way,
The sun was low, the sky was gray,
When all at once I thought I heard
A lovely song, a sweet songbird.
She flew from high upon a tree
And glided down to come to me.
She on my shoulder settled then;
No more surprised I'd ever been.
She played her beak among my hair;
It tickled me that she was there.
As to my collar she did cling,
The sweetest song she made to sing.
Its melody was heaven sent,
And straight into my heart it went.
Then suddenly she ceased to sing;
She tucked her head beneath her wing
And fell into a gentle sleep,
Her feathers soft against my cheek.
It touched my soul that I could feel
Her body's warmth and know her real.
What joy she brought me nestling there,
Her trust in me that I would care
And keep her safe that autumn day
Upon that cold and lonely way.
No greater gift I'd ever known
Than have her with me make her home.
Just when I came to hope she'd stay
And never ever fly away,
Low through the clouds there burst a beam,
A glimpse of sun to end her dream.
Without a sound she came awake
To suddenly her rest forsake.
She made no sound but flew away
One autumn on a lonely way.
Copyright 1999, 2000, 2008 by Walter L Brooker
Peter Our Tortoise
Our worst pet was Peter, our tortoise,
Who walked like he had rigor mortis.
So on strolls we would take,
Never, for Pete?s sake,
Did Peter, our tortoise, escort us.
Copyright 2000, 2003, 2005 Walter L. Brooker
Mary Sue
I do love you,
Dear Mary Sue.
I dreamt of you last night. ?You want to play
With me today?
Let's go and fly my kite.
Just feel that breeze.
Look at the trees.
See how they move and sway.
The kite will fly
Up really high.
It is a perfect day.
I have some treats
For us to eat.
I brought them just for you--
Some lemon drops,
Two lollipops,
And tasty cookies too.
The park's not far
From where we are.
Could you the snackies bring?
I will hold tight
Onto the kite
And also to the string.?
It would be grand
To hold your hand
As we went down the street.
It surely would.
I wish I could
Say to the boys we?d meet,
?Sweet Mary Sue's
With me, not you,?
And they'd be jealous guys,
But I'd just smile
And pass them while
I gazed into your eyes.
?We?re halfway there.
You think we dare
Cut through Miss Hanna?s yard?
She pretty old,
And she can scold
A body pretty hard.
You want to race
On from her place
So we can hurry faster?
But Mary Sue,
Please don?t cut through
The churchyard ?cause the pastor,
If on his walk,
Will want to talk
To us for maybe hours,
And I?ve no doubt
He?ll talk about
His sermon or his flowers.
So ready then?
May I say when?
Okay! Get ready! Go!
Gosh! You are fast.
I may be last.
Who says that girls run slow?
Wow! That was fun.
Since we have run,
We've quickly gotten here.
Let's find a spot
Without a lot
Of trees that are too near.
Right there looks good.
I think there should
Be room to fly the kite,
And with its tail,
It ought to sail
Up almost out of sight.
If you don't mind,
Could you unwind
The string while I run out
To start the kite?
We?ll see its flight
Quite soon, I have no doubt.
Wow! There it goes.
When the wind blows,
It really takes to wing.
Just hold on tight,
And then you might
Let out a bit more string.
The kite looks small.
The string?s now all
Used up. Wow! Ain?t it great?
Let?s let it fly
There in the sky
A while. It?s not too late.?
I do love you,
Dear Mary Sue.
You look sweet standing there--
Your pretty face,
Your slender grace,
Your tousled, auburn hair.
Copyright 2009 by Walter L Brooker
Of Valiant Men
One autumn?s day when I was young,
I wandered through broad fields among
Dry grasses, weeds and leafless trees
And felt death?s chill upon the breeze.
There all about me on the ground
Great hosts of long dead men I found,
Who?d fallen there in battles grand
To leave their bones upon the land,
Which through the ages passed since then
Had turned to dust of valiant men.
Who loved those men of long ago?
Whose tear-filled eyes had watched them go
In marching columns, proud and strong?
If music for them played, what song?
What tender words were left unsaid?
What joys were missed in lovers? beds?
What babes were never thus conceived?
What comfort then had the bereaved
Who never would be held again
By safe, strong arms of valiant men?
Copyright 2007 by Walter L Brooker
Silent Witnesses
No trace of breeze
Moved through the trees.
The lofty cottonwoods
Were strangely still
As on their hill
They silent vigil stood.
The star-lit sky,
So black, so high,
Displayed a watchful moon.
Its silent face
Betrayed no trace
Of what was coming soon.
That night, so clear,
Man?s doom was near,
For hell was giving birth.
An evil seed
Would soon be freed
And issue from the earth.
Before the dawn
A ghastly spawn,
A foul, malignant brood,
A fetid batch
Of filth would hatch
To make of men sweet food.
Copyright 2006, 2008 by Walter L Brooker
Whither in Death
Death?s too sordid and too morbid,
And no man has yet recorded
What cold death his soul afforded
When his flesh encountered doom.
Yes, there?s stories of great glories,
But I still think death?s too gory--
Corpses trucked by hearse or lorry
To decay in grave or tomb.
If I?m shriven, I?m forgiven
All my sins from evil livin?.
Though that story I was given
That to heaven I could go,
There?s no knowing all I?m owing
For my sins. I may be going
Over Styx with Charon rowing
To grim Hades? shores below.
Copyright 2006, 2008 by Walter L Brooker
A Maiden Sunning
On the beach while one day running,
I descried a maiden sunning,
And to me she was so stunning
That I couldn't turn away.
Her bikini, small and yellow,
Couldn't help but tempt a fellow,
So I risked a timid "Hello!
It's so nice out here today."
Well, she smiled and beckoned to me,
And at once my heart just knew she
Had much more than outside beauty--
A most warm and loving heart.
Since that day we've been together.
We are one, and I'll endeavor
My sweet lass to cherish ever
So we'll never be apart.
Copyright 2008 by Walter L Brooker
The Man Who Slew Me
Please find the man who slew me.
Please hunt the bastard down.
It was some one who knew me,
Some person from our town.
He knew when I'd be taking
A walk within the park.
The time for mischief making
Is nighttime after dark.
He whispered, "How I hate you!"
Before he stabbed me dead.
No strangers thus berate you.
'Twas some foul friend instead.
My ghost is cursed to walking
Until I've vengeance found.
That fiend I must keep stalking,
Denied my holy ground.
You are the one I cherished
Much more than all the rest.
I know you grieve I've perished,
The one who loved me best.
Our bond permits my speaking
To you within your mind.
My vengeance I am seeking.
You must my killer find.
Dear friend, why are you grinning
As I now speak to you?
Your aspect speaks of sinning.
Oh, false friend, it was you!
I do love you,
Yes, there?s stories of great glories,
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