This next poem was written as a tribute to the wind organ.
Oh, for some pipes.
Oh, for some pipes and a chest full of wind
Oh for the pallet and spring.
Oh for the upper board, table and grid,
Oh for the wind ducts to sing.
Oh for the tracker, sticker and pin,
Oh for the bearer and slides.
Oh for some felt, many ivory crazed keys,
Oh for those solid oak sides.
Oh for the ear, lip, throat, cup and foot,
Oh for the reeds’ resonator.
Oh for those names - Kleingedacht, Trommet und Zimbel,
Oh for the Hohlflote und Oktava.
Oh, for some pipes and a chest full of wind,
Oh for the levers and square.
Oh for the sound of wood and tin flutes,
Oh for the sweet,sweetness of air.
I wrote this next poem when Albert Einstein died over 50 years ago.
Tribute to Albert Einstein.
Einstein is dead and his brain doth lie
On a marble slab with surgeon by,
To pick and probe the tissues gray
Digging and cutting bone away.
Inspect and analyse the cells
From where within the genius dwells.
A few pounds of rotting brain,
The knowledge that the world doth gain
Lies in formula of advanced sign,
Creation of his wonder mind.
Surgeons look and scrutinise,
With searching eye, clear and wise.
But there is no intelligence to see,
For All knowledge there did flee
Unto the space time continuum,
Of which this mind did sum.
Beyond the things of Earth we see
Across the river, pool and lee.
Above the clouds,the sky, the air.
To places of the unknown where,
Atoms are wrought, pummeled and made,
Where man’s imaginations fade.
Across light years (imagination falls)
Into the cosmic glistening pools.
Of ruthless stars in heaven’s bowl
Empty blackness, soot and coal.
Beyond the fairies, elfs and gnomes,
Far beyond where spirits roam
His intelligence now has gone
Into the infinite of nothing - on and on.
And we are left with mathematics
The tools of cosmic tactics,
Which Einstein was the master in
To foster knowledge and conquer sin.
Is his brain larger than ours?
This is no measure of his wondrous powers.
Is the gray matter dark or light?
Again small measure for his genius bright.
For he belongs to the universe of mind
To laws and rules which eternal bind.
Across the gap of finite space
Which my imagination reflects and cannot face.
We have lost a great intelligence,
A quiet man of reticence.
Who thought of things beyond the known.
Out with the stars there alone
He asked his questions with patient tongue,
Into the bowl of enigmas flung
The seeds of knowledge for all to reap.
Of answers to the mysteries deep
On space, time, matter and mass,
Energy, power, liquid and gas.
Such was his wisdom and creative thought
Lightness to our lives he brought.
Farewell Einstein, our loss is great,
Alas, age for genius doth not wait.
So rest in peace way out in space,
With your help the future we do face.
Holding Hands.
We hold hands not as children
Who clutch in innocent
Delight
Whose sticky fingers grip
So tight.
We hold hands, nay hardly so,
That even the delicate wings
Of butterflies
Would not smudge
Beneath our fingered sighs.
Armour.
In this armour room
Of shining steel,
Protection for a man
From head to heel.
With breast plate and visor slot
Against the sword
Or cannon shot.
But what protection
Has my heart
From Cupid’s arrowed thrust?
For this heart is offered
To my dearest,
And she may kill it
If she must.
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