James Walter Orr Poems

I walked into the chilly air,
this cool, November night.
The brightest star, called Sirius,
attracted soon, my sight.
...

The cool night had drawn to a close,
when from my warm bed I arose.
I soon turned up the heat,
and the warmth felt so sweet,
...

Sometimes the word that must be heard,
flows from a distant shore,
that on the whole can touch the soul,
and reach into one's core.
...

Hard jostled by elbows and crowded by shoulders,
I walked through a desolate, blight stricken town.
Men hunted employment, thieves sought helpless victims,
and aged men searched for a place to lie down.
...

I see the sun will not come out;
the skies continue gray.
The dead leaves rustle all about:
lost souls that went astray.
...

White clouds, those fluffy gilt-edged popcorn balls,
still fight to dominate the frigid sky.
Day turns to darkness as the sun’s glow falls:
retreats behind a frozen earth, to die.
...

In gulps, some men prefer their love.
Some take their love in sips,
but all will swear by stars above,
the best is sugarlips.
...

The world should shake and tremble, in a quake,
and from primeval waters should emerge,
commingled and united by some surge
of fate, this woman, matched by fate's decree
...

Of red, I am the chronicle
and name I now, on numbered page,
each episode: love, hate and rage,
that blinds your heart, obscures your trail,
...

Rain drops forever on each rose,
and keeps the scent from fading;
the memories that claim my heart,
as ever, are pervading.
...