81. When I Die 1/13/2009
82. From Draculas Diary Of Poems 1/7/2009
83. Fright Flight 1/16/2009
84. Number Eighteen 12/4/2008
85. Children At Play 11/27/2008
86. I Do Pray 11/26/2008
87. One Night Stand 11/26/2008
88. Raindrops Never Die 12/17/2008
89. R.I.P Chippy 12/25/2008
90. Gone With The Wind 12/31/2008
91. The Spirit 12/22/2008
92. Small Town Life 2/17/2011
93. Clary's Grove 1/21/2009
94. Cabin Fever 12/22/2008
95. Walking By The Sea 1/27/2009
96. You As Me 1/14/2009
97. I Need Six Pillows To Sleep 1/7/2009
98. Knock, The Door Will Open 12/17/2008
99. I Mourn And Mourn 12/3/2008
100. Cobalt Depression Glass 1/28/2009
101. Food For Thought 12/7/2008
102. Nature Of The Flower 1/7/2009
103. Chillin 1/27/2009
104. Dead Poet 2/19/2009
105. Mary Surratt On The Gallow 1/13/2009
106. Oregon Trail 12/25/2008
107. Sneaky Curse- King Tut's Tomb 10/27/2009
108. Broken Heart? 12/25/2008
109. A Single Tear-Iron Eyes Cody 1/14/2009
110. As Time Goes By 12/17/2008

Comments about ERNEST CLARY

  • Dianna Clary (1/6/2009 7:18:00 AM)

    Good poem keep up the writing

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.

As Time Goes By

As time goes by like it does
I want to cry for what once was
I look back at the places my folks have been
I see their faces in the wind
all their homes fallen or plowed down
they lay motionless in the ground
I look at their tombstones all thats left
and know laying beneath
is their bones, gone to the thief called death
some were good others bad
I cant help thinking
of the times they had
planting cooking fishing
both work and play
it was survival day by day
each having their chores and things they made
what some had others didnt
they would ...

Read the full of As Time Goes By

About Edgar Lee Masters

this rant contains some words of Edgar, s spoon river anthology, The Hill

'Lo he babbles of the fish frys of long ago of the horse races long ago at Clarys Grove of what Lincoln said one time in Springfield'

Edgar longed for the days of old
with a spirit of new
now he, s old long gone and i do too
with a mind as sharp as a sliver
he now rests with the folks he wrote of

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