Personal poems.
If you can keep your marriage when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on each other,
If you can hold those loving vows you vowed to one another,
But make allowances for the odd slip or two.
If you can wait and wait anew while dinner burns
And not be too angry nor too concerned:
But embrace each other tight at night to bill and coo.
Wouldn't I, wouldn't we, wouldn't you?
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
But put a brave face on failure and disaster,
Yet dream a bright vision that guides you just the same,
And conspire together to achieve that noble aim.
If you can respect each other's aspiring goals,
Yet be considerate and trusting to the other soul.
Then no matter how that stony road may twist and bend,
All your endeavours will see success at journey's end!
If you can reap the joys on waking, to find yourself in each other's arms.
Yet resist temptation, forsaking others; be true to one another's charms.
If you can rouse the morn with peals of merry laughter,
To hear your children rejoicing to the very rafters.
Yet cherish the love and happiness of those children.
Then yours is a marriage made in Heaven:
And your house, your home where cheerfulness dwells - a sanctuary sans strife
To guard forever the depth of love 'twixt Man and Wife!
A poem to commemorate a wedding by Frank Waller.
With apologies to Rudyard Kipling.
March 1998.
On rock - strewn shore I seek in vain,
Searching for my erstwhile Jane,
Yet see her there amongst the flowers
I see her there in every bower
See her in every budding tree
Even in the moonlit sea.
I cannot look in any place
And not see Jane so fair of face
Or is it Linda's face I see?
So full of grace she bewitches me.
Yet one mirrors the other's fame
Because her name is Linda Jane.
Let others seek fame and fortune's purse,
I crave for Jane and a book of verse.
Above, a sky of sunset clouds,
Away from town and jostling crowds.
Beneath a tree with a flask of wine
It's my heaven divinely sublime!
Frank Waller. April 1969
There was a door to which I found no key:
There was a veil past which I could not see.
Some little talk awhile of Thee and Me
There seemed - and then no more of Thee and Me
If I could unlock an angry heart and let the tears flood,
If I could see through mists of pain - I surely would
So much of what we have is understood
So please dear Goddess don't let it be
No more of thee and me!
You're the shot that has found it's mark,
You're the arrow that pierced my heart,
You're the dream when we are apart,
You're the one from the very start.
You're the pearl in my oyster shell,
You're the clapper that rings my bell,
You're the locket where my love dwells,
You're the one that has cast a spell.
You're the prize when the race has run,
You're the shade that dispels the sun,
You're the blessing from a good nun,
You're the one when all's said and done.
You're the morning freshened by dew,
You're the Sylph who made me anew,
You're the lost love long overdue,
That exceptional one is you!!
Frank Waller. February 14th 2020
They say we all have some fleeting moments of fame.
Pity, most of us derives that distinctive claim
When we, Heaven bent, glide smoothly through the flame.
The crowd waits, in mournful mood and sombre garb,
Yet loath am I from family and friends to part.
But He decrees; and ceases my beating heart.
Am I too late to hear that melodious harp?
They patiently stand there in whispering clusters.
The autumn leaves are swirling in windy blusters.
My slow arrival, a most elegant muster
In a Bentley, Daimler or Rolls, the final throw
Of a host who knows how to put on a great show.
Bedeck me in flowers to banish spirits low.
Oh vengeful, spiteful fate that gave me such a blow.
They follow me in, my coffin on a trolley,
They enter through portals, shaking out their brollies.
Be seated one and all, but please don't feel sorry.
The eulogies abound, and praises raised to astound,
The music begins, hymns to sing, while songs are found
To comfort folk who grieve, filling the air with sound.
But what of the “has been,” just ashes in a mound.
They leave through those portals to whence they first arrive,
With choking sobs, moans and groans, wiping tear-stained eyes.
They view the wreaths and bouquets; at least they're still alive!
For Death's scythe is wielded and he's no pretender
Has torn my life apart in his Danse Macabre
My erstwhile life is honoured by those on a bender.
Whilst I remain to brave the flame and be returned to Sender!!
Frank Waller. October 2009
To facilitate the Way,
Lord, be a bright beam before my Brother, to illuminate the Way.
To illuminate the Way,
Lord, be a guiding star beyond my Brother, to indicate the Way.
To indicate the Way,
Lord, be a Good Shepherd behind my Brother, to locate the Way.
To locate the Way,
Lord, be a smooth path beneath my Brother to facilitate the Way.
Amen.
Frank Waller. June 2005
What thoughts flash, still framed in gloomy clouds?
To view you covered in a white shroud.
Your goods and chattels left well behind,
For your kith and kin and those in line.
Dear brother, so vibrant when alive
Now reposed, too still with those closed eyes.
How can we that are left continue?
Without your wisdom strength and sinews.
Frank Waller. November 2005
They say that faith is blind
So just those thoughts unwind
Times that bind and entwine
No need to mime the crime
Leave the ordinary behind
And open up the mind
To lines and thoughts sublime
For thine own sake and mine.
Frank Waller. December 2011
What are nights for?
Nights are where we reside.
You appear, I come alive.
Time and time over,
They are to be happy in.
Where can we live? but nights.
These treasured hours spent with you,
Liken them to the precious dew.
Vaporising in the light of day
Yet satiates still this humble clay.
Behold the morn, I'm parched anew,
Thirsting, thirsting for that quenching dew.
When you leave and go away,
I'm filled with utter dismay.
Always waiting for your joyful return
To assuage this thirsting heart that burns.
So my dear, make haste to restore
My aching heart right to the core.
Frank Waller. March 2005