C R Clark

C R Clark Poems

Each day she sits in a rolling chair
Constrained by straps to avert a spill
Not knowing who or where she is
Not knowing those who love her still

Originally written as a song, tune: Joan Baez, All my trials Lord, soon be over

This earthly life has got me down
When I get home, I’ll wear a crown

Way back in the mountain and beyond bread creek
Where muscadines hang from the hardwood trees
The coyotes howl all through the night
And backbones tingle when the catamount cries.

A lonely man in the midst of a crowd
Is the loneliest man of all
If only he could forget his pride
He could make friends of them all

The sky was clear that autumn day
A dried out pile of brush
Had needed burning for quite some time
But there’d never been a rush

A teacher was, one day, teaching
Her second grader class
The tale of the three little pigs
When she turned to a lovely lass

His face was brown and wrinkled
His clothes were old and worn
Sitting on a sidewalk bench
He watched the street as traffic swarmed

To plunge from high on summit’s peak
And ride the current, swift
Survey the earth in sweeping view
As, with the morning clouds, I drift

Many times when I’m alone, I dream of when we used to go
With sandwiches, out to the lake and watch the people swim
We’d laugh and play for hours, games with little meaning
Until the day had faded, then we’d pack and head for home

We rose that day, no power at all
The whole county stymied from ice and snow
The central heat, though gas, no good
For, without the “juice, ” it would not go

Squirrel brushes corn
From my feeder to the ground
Young deer picks it up

Ain’t camped once this year
Ain’t had a single campfire
Something’s wrong with that

My wife keeps a feeder for her dear hummingbirds
Outside our window it hangs in the shade
Hummers refresh themselves sunup till dark
They sip and they slurp that red hummer kool aid

From somewhere deep within my being
The shadow of desperation harbors doubt
And my usual optimism is shaken
But, I pray, it is still intact

Icy crystals cling
Branches glimmer in the sun
Winter’s masterpiece

A friend drew me aside one day
And, in me did confide
Of problems with a wayward Son
Such as he could scarce abide

I had a dream and you were there
In lace, with flowers, in your hair
Your beauty shown and lit the place
A constant smile was on your face

If I could paint a masterpiece
In portrait show my lady’s grace
As da Vinci in his finest hour
Attained in Mona Lisa’s face

It’s just an old abandoned farmhouse
On a weedy, grown up moor
I suspect that it has stood there
For a century or more

In the land of thermal waters, many moons ago
When streams in virgin forests, yet with crystal water flowed
Before the Europeans came from lands so far away
And vowed to conquer for their king, this new land they would claim

C R Clark Biography

Hello, my name is Richard Clark. My wife Elaine, and I have been married for 33 years. Between us we have three children, a girl and two boys, five grandchildren, one great-granddaughter and one great-grandson. I love my family, my Lord, my church and my country and I hope that my writing will reflect this. I like to consider myself an outdoorsman. I enjoy hunting, fishing, camping, or just exploring forest trails. I enjoy writing poetry about life's experiences. Most of my work will have something to do with family, Outdoor activities and remembering old times. I firmly believe that there is no such thing as a bad poem. Every poem means something to the person who wrote it. It may appeal to me or it may not appeal to me, but that has NOTHING to do with whether or not it is good. For whatever its worth, that's my philosophy on poetry. I do have a personal website that I would invite anyone to visit and comment on. My website is; www.poeticoutdoors.com)

The Best Poem Of C R Clark


Each day she sits in a rolling chair
Constrained by straps to avert a spill
Not knowing who or where she is
Not knowing those who love her still

Not knowing if it’s cold outside
Or if the sun does shine this day
Not knowing, since that awful time
Her memory was rudely swept away

Her day is filled with dull routine
Of nurses, pills, food, soft and flat
She cannot eat, so must be fed
Alzheimer’s toll is truly sad

But once she was young and full of life
She loved to laugh and play and sing
Walk barefoot through the meadow grass
Ride horses, wade in quiet streams

She went for strolls down shady lanes
And talked with friends of girlish things
Of life and love and boys and goals
Her life was filled with hope and dreams

She loved the man who won her heart
She wept when death took him away
Now she longs for reunion sweet
And so, each day she sits and waits

©C R Clark 12/20/2008

C R Clark Comments

C R Clark Popularity

C R Clark Popularity

Error Success