Biography of Jim Harmon
Born at the beginning of WW2 in the wheat belt of Oklahoma, Jim, the oldest of two children, was blessed with artistic talent that included music, art and literary abilities. His voice was considered angelic and was always the youngest member of the church choirs his family attended.
Jim started his music studies in the 5th grade with the sax and played all through college in various bands.
He began writing poetry in high school, publishing his first poem, Love, The Essence of Life in 1956.
His love for sailing began with the reading of The Con Tiki. Over the years he owned seven sailboats and actually lived on his 43 ft. boat Amazing Grace for six years in the Caribbean.
Now retired and having started a new business in the midst of the recession, Jim splits his time between writing and his Mykittypalm.com business.
He plans to self publish his vast poems and lyrics in the near future.
Jim Harmon Poems
Love The Essence Of Life......A Philosop...
Life is of essence to me so dear. Today I must live and tomorrow not fear. For if I live my life with the fullest intent Then tomorrow will bring joy as a day well spent.
The Ashes Of Christmas Past
There were many times before When I had everything to put beneath the tree. But the silken bows and tinsels glow Were just pretty wrappings for things
Thus it begins, this river, a dropp of life pure and clean as yet unseen. Released as before on a quest for more, one amidst the many.
Deepening shadows, the twilight haze. Forest paths cool with shade. Gentle breezes stir the trees, Soft warm sand beneath my feet.
The audience is in place as the house lights dim. The orchestras din of jumbled noise, discordant confusion suddenly finds the perfect pitch of Concert C and there seems a breathless moment....
Through The Sawmill Of Life
Through the sawmill of life into the Carpenters hands We as raw lumber to perfection grand Chips and dust, knots and twigs To matched veneers of hand polished leaves
As the wind drives my boat into a heading sea She drives my reason far from me. Cast upon the torrents waves A broached I flounder in the trough
As the wind drives my boat into a heading sea
She drives my reason far from me.
Cast upon the torrents waves
A broached I flounder in the trough
Lashed to a deck I do not command
Far off from the sure foot of land.
The airs alive with lightnings flash.
My senses reel from her perfumes lash.