+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+                               The Poets Corner                              +
+ VOL. 7                                                   NUMBER 07 ISSUE 71 +
+ Copyright (C) 1993 Kevin Keyser                                   July 1993 +
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+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++   +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+          In The Corner!           +   +         Info, Info, Info!           +
+                                   +   +                                     +
+ Greetings!                        +   +   The Poets Corner is published     +
+                                   +   +   monthly by Kevin J. Keyser.       +
+   This month we continue with     +   +                                     +
+ the poems written by my relative  +   +   Please feel free to distribute    +
+ Edwin Cerney.  This series was    +   +   The Poets Corner!  I only ask     +
+ begun in the June issue.          +   +   that you do not change the        +
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+                                   +   +   access to this publication.       +
+               Kevin               +   +                                     +
+                 James             +   +   Because of Copyright concerns     +
+                   Keyser          +   +   and other legal mumbo jumble      +
+                                   +   +   The Poets Corner does NOT         +
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++   +   accept submissions!               +
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                                        +   Comments and ideas are ALWAYS     +
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                          Patterns In Words And Music


         The constantly unfolding pages of my mind.
         Record my joys...and my sorrows;
         The of the glad things we have known
         And the deep despair of your leaving.
         These are...Memories.

                                    --------


         From out of the clotted clouds
         A crescent of incandescence
         Probes a tentative tip;
         Dips a dubious digit into
         The flood of night;
         Finds it warm. inviting;
         Plunges out all it's radiance.
         Here in our silver-roofed copse
         We whisper...moon songs.

                                    --------

         The tympani of thunder;
         Muted violins of gentle rain whispering "Come Out"
         To spring flowers.
         Tendril fingers of bandit fog
         Steal the chimney tops.
         Cloud-dappled skies of sudden sunlight
         Call "Grow!" to the wheat seas;
         Invite "Wade thru me" to strolling lovers.
         All of this the constantly shifting of
         Juxtaposition of the elements,
         Making weather.

                                    --------





























                                  Country Song


         I seek the haven of my blankets
         As the wind makes love to my pines.....
         And the pines answer
         With a sigh of surrender.
         From my sheltered place
         Each heartbeat speaks another of the phrases,
         Another of the love-words
         I have for you.
         When the last wind is stilled....
         When the last pine has fallen,
         Re-dissolved to join the Earth fro which it sprang,
         Had my heart
         Thru all those eons
         Been saying my love
         My story
         Would only have begun
         The telling.






                               Words For "Lonely"


         You are gone.
         The echo of the sparkle
         Of your laughter
         Is bitter alum to the taste of this poor one
         Who will never laugh again.

         Happiness is....
         Happiness is a word in a now maudlin song,
         Meaningless to one who has known the maddest of joy -
         Only now to slog thru empty hours.
         The wine we drank so gayly
         Is now an empty soporific
         Vainly struggling to assuage the ache
         That pervades my being.
         All of the gladness we knew -
         Each dear little thing you did -
         The words we spoke,
         The songs we sang,
         The known-to-no-one else moments we shared
         fill the catacombs
         of my writhing memories.
         You are gone.


                                                                *FIN!







