Haiku 65
Abe, Teddy, Ronald,
Giants of the Grand Party -
Dwarfs : Newt, Mitt, Michele.
Race to the bottom,
How much crap must we endure -
Lagers not leaders.
They pass in review,
Do they really pass muster ?
It's your turn to judge.
Brother of Hard Ball's
Chris Mathews is indicted -
Commissioner Jim.
We deserve better,
Will Democrats so govern ?
Our county struggles.
Greed may rule the day,
But honesty wins the race -
Only if you act.
Ronald C. Downie
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
So Grows The Tree
So Grows The Tree
When I strike a match to light the village fire pit,
Flames illuminate faces of our own fine family tree.
Nearly six decades of bearing and raising young fit
Members, trained to think, to act, raised to be free :
Then, these young accomplished see the World stage
Spread out beyond their horizons awaiting discovery.
Poised in innocence, thoroughly tutored beyond age,
Finding their footing, they're off to life's pageantry :
And then, capturing the day, making way, work acts
To temper aggressiveness in some structured setting.
"The art of the deal" attracts some lacking of facts,
Most will attest education displays their upbringing.
"As the twig is bent so grows the tree", sings to me
Song lyrics, pressing achieving progeny, lovely to see.
Ronald C. Downie
When I strike a match to light the village fire pit,
Flames illuminate faces of our own fine family tree.
Nearly six decades of bearing and raising young fit
Members, trained to think, to act, raised to be free :
Then, these young accomplished see the World stage
Spread out beyond their horizons awaiting discovery.
Poised in innocence, thoroughly tutored beyond age,
Finding their footing, they're off to life's pageantry :
And then, capturing the day, making way, work acts
To temper aggressiveness in some structured setting.
"The art of the deal" attracts some lacking of facts,
Most will attest education displays their upbringing.
"As the twig is bent so grows the tree", sings to me
Song lyrics, pressing achieving progeny, lovely to see.
Ronald C. Downie
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
A Comfortable Host
A Comfortable Host
Horizons meld hills for eyes to climb,
Far distance blurs their sharp images,
Also, does the real passage of time.
Nineteen twenty one (1921), vestiges
Long gone : trolleys and their rust weary rails,
Rutted cobblestones, worn down brick,
Etchings of wagon wheels mark their trails.
Four score years grows memories thick.
The Century Club chose Potts's High Street
Casselberry House for it's beginning.
Forty years there, double it, repeat,
Forty years while still remembering :
The smell of linseed from shoe hardened old wood
That squeaked and groaned with each foot step.
Dappled light peeking in where tall windows stood.
"Shhh ! Be quiet, please !" Rules strictly kept.
When words emerge from their book covers :
Distance alters and time accepts change,
Dreams seek children, their fathers and mothers,
Stories flow rivers, climb mountains, ride range.
Facts flow from open pages into the mind
And swells clear, deep streams of knowledge.
Wonder grows wisdom we all may find,
Cause reading hones that sharpened edge.
Libraries draw far off horizons close,
Time finds them a comfortable host.
Ronald C . Downie
Written for the occasion and read to the assembled commemorating the eightieth anniversary of the founding of The Pottstown Public Library .(2001)
Horizons meld hills for eyes to climb,
Far distance blurs their sharp images,
Also, does the real passage of time.
Nineteen twenty one (1921), vestiges
Long gone : trolleys and their rust weary rails,
Rutted cobblestones, worn down brick,
Etchings of wagon wheels mark their trails.
Four score years grows memories thick.
The Century Club chose Potts's High Street
Casselberry House for it's beginning.
Forty years there, double it, repeat,
Forty years while still remembering :
The smell of linseed from shoe hardened old wood
That squeaked and groaned with each foot step.
Dappled light peeking in where tall windows stood.
"Shhh ! Be quiet, please !" Rules strictly kept.
When words emerge from their book covers :
Distance alters and time accepts change,
Dreams seek children, their fathers and mothers,
Stories flow rivers, climb mountains, ride range.
Facts flow from open pages into the mind
And swells clear, deep streams of knowledge.
Wonder grows wisdom we all may find,
Cause reading hones that sharpened edge.
Libraries draw far off horizons close,
Time finds them a comfortable host.
Ronald C . Downie
Written for the occasion and read to the assembled commemorating the eightieth anniversary of the founding of The Pottstown Public Library .(2001)
Monday, December 5, 2011
December 7, 1941
December 7, 1941
This "a date which will live in infamy" expressed by then President, Roosevelt, resonated in Pottstown, I'm sure, with shock. But, over in the farm country of Chester County near Harmonyville where we were living then, a quiet hush filled the air when we first heard the message.
My mother's cousin from Scotland, Jock Piggot, arrived here by train from Philadelphia the day before, a Saturday, for his only ever visit here? He was the Captain of a British transport ship in port at Philadelphia taking on supplies for the English home front already at war.
On Sunday morning we had a leisurely breakfast and after it Dad and my brother both queried Jock about his sea faring, with me nearing the age of seven, I was popping in and out the room. Mom was busy preparing a large meal for mid-afternoon and I, as usual, was her go get it guy when called away from the conversations.
Normally on a Sunday if we hadn't gone to church, as happened that day, Dad would read his paper while listening to the radio. His favorite station was WOR out of New York with Rambling With Gambling a staple. My brother, Andy, and I would have been outside for sometime by then. Our life on Houck Road just off Harmonyville Road was then recorded in memory as either before or after indoor plumbing. That meant an outhouse or an indoor cellar toilet ; a bath in the cellar in a large metal tub with water heated on a wood-coal stove then poured in the large tub sitting on the floor or taking a shower in a simple cellar stall with water heated by a bucket a day coal stove.
After our big afternoon meal Dad and Jock retired back again to the living room for more talk. It would be getting on to late afternoon and Dad, a news junky, finally turned on the radio. Nothing but the attack on Pearl Harbor was heard with endless reports from Washington and where ever else. The first bombs fell at Pearl at 7:55 AM so east coast time would have been five or six hours later, or early afternoon.
Jock was ashen when he stood up dressed in his causal clothes and announced to Dad and Andy that he must get back to his ship. With that up the stairs he doubled stepped coming back down fully outfitted in his dress blues complete with his Captain's hat a suitcase in hand. Will you please take me to the train station in Pottstown, immediately, Alex ? Dad did so after a hurried good by and we never saw him again though we heard he had a ship or two blow out from under him during the War. He, to our knowledge, lived through the War and for sometime after hopefully in good health.
I remember the Second World War as a young boy being scared when the Light Warden rapped at the door at night informing Mom and Dad to pull the special black curtains closer together because a sliver of light was peeping through. The sound of an airplane engine sent many a chill up my spine.
The Second World War altered the way Americans have lived ever since. The ever ongoing tragedy, seems to me, to be that winning this war did not herald in a century or two of peace and prosperity that we thought we fought for. Might not always turns out to be right; rather it sets up a King Of The Hill attitude in the World where defending turf is paramount. Why, oh, why ?
Ronald C. Downie
This "a date which will live in infamy" expressed by then President, Roosevelt, resonated in Pottstown, I'm sure, with shock. But, over in the farm country of Chester County near Harmonyville where we were living then, a quiet hush filled the air when we first heard the message.
My mother's cousin from Scotland, Jock Piggot, arrived here by train from Philadelphia the day before, a Saturday, for his only ever visit here? He was the Captain of a British transport ship in port at Philadelphia taking on supplies for the English home front already at war.
On Sunday morning we had a leisurely breakfast and after it Dad and my brother both queried Jock about his sea faring, with me nearing the age of seven, I was popping in and out the room. Mom was busy preparing a large meal for mid-afternoon and I, as usual, was her go get it guy when called away from the conversations.
Normally on a Sunday if we hadn't gone to church, as happened that day, Dad would read his paper while listening to the radio. His favorite station was WOR out of New York with Rambling With Gambling a staple. My brother, Andy, and I would have been outside for sometime by then. Our life on Houck Road just off Harmonyville Road was then recorded in memory as either before or after indoor plumbing. That meant an outhouse or an indoor cellar toilet ; a bath in the cellar in a large metal tub with water heated on a wood-coal stove then poured in the large tub sitting on the floor or taking a shower in a simple cellar stall with water heated by a bucket a day coal stove.
After our big afternoon meal Dad and Jock retired back again to the living room for more talk. It would be getting on to late afternoon and Dad, a news junky, finally turned on the radio. Nothing but the attack on Pearl Harbor was heard with endless reports from Washington and where ever else. The first bombs fell at Pearl at 7:55 AM so east coast time would have been five or six hours later, or early afternoon.
Jock was ashen when he stood up dressed in his causal clothes and announced to Dad and Andy that he must get back to his ship. With that up the stairs he doubled stepped coming back down fully outfitted in his dress blues complete with his Captain's hat a suitcase in hand. Will you please take me to the train station in Pottstown, immediately, Alex ? Dad did so after a hurried good by and we never saw him again though we heard he had a ship or two blow out from under him during the War. He, to our knowledge, lived through the War and for sometime after hopefully in good health.
I remember the Second World War as a young boy being scared when the Light Warden rapped at the door at night informing Mom and Dad to pull the special black curtains closer together because a sliver of light was peeping through. The sound of an airplane engine sent many a chill up my spine.
The Second World War altered the way Americans have lived ever since. The ever ongoing tragedy, seems to me, to be that winning this war did not herald in a century or two of peace and prosperity that we thought we fought for. Might not always turns out to be right; rather it sets up a King Of The Hill attitude in the World where defending turf is paramount. Why, oh, why ?
Ronald C. Downie
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Grandson, Connor Kurtz
Grandson, Connor Kurtz
When a grandson takes an oath of allegiance to
Uphold The Constitution of The United States Of
America, he joins a select group of citizens. Few
Are willing to be put to the test candidates love :
Then, when voting is long over and true work begins :
Reading, understanding, corresponding, and debating
Takes a good deal of his time. Do young one's whims
Revolve around time budgeting, rather than dating :
And then, the rigors of meetings, schedule shifts,
Want of necessity seeking an answer, finding none.
That noble cause grows a film of tarnish, not gifts
Once thought. Plow on does he, this gifted grandson.
A field of battle is not always fit for fife and drum.
It's for the tenacious, gifted solder who gets it done.
Ronald C. Downie
A sonnet to commemorate Connor's swearing in at 18 years of age to his local school board.
When a grandson takes an oath of allegiance to
Uphold The Constitution of The United States Of
America, he joins a select group of citizens. Few
Are willing to be put to the test candidates love :
Then, when voting is long over and true work begins :
Reading, understanding, corresponding, and debating
Takes a good deal of his time. Do young one's whims
Revolve around time budgeting, rather than dating :
And then, the rigors of meetings, schedule shifts,
Want of necessity seeking an answer, finding none.
That noble cause grows a film of tarnish, not gifts
Once thought. Plow on does he, this gifted grandson.
A field of battle is not always fit for fife and drum.
It's for the tenacious, gifted solder who gets it done.
Ronald C. Downie
A sonnet to commemorate Connor's swearing in at 18 years of age to his local school board.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Song Tune
Song Tune
The song,
The song of life,
The song of life is played in the key of time.
Seconds tick minutes into hours for days to find,
As weeks couple, bearing months, that years combine
Into passing decades etched forever on the mind.
Friends, in chorus, help harmonize the melody Devine;
But,
But the tune,
The tune is ours,
The tune is ours alone,
But the tune is ours, ours, all alone to find.
Ronald C. Downie
This poem I cherish as my signature poem.
The song,
The song of life,
The song of life is played in the key of time.
Seconds tick minutes into hours for days to find,
As weeks couple, bearing months, that years combine
Into passing decades etched forever on the mind.
Friends, in chorus, help harmonize the melody Devine;
But,
But the tune,
The tune is ours,
The tune is ours alone,
But the tune is ours, ours, all alone to find.
Ronald C. Downie
This poem I cherish as my signature poem.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Andy Grey Downie
Andy Grey Downie
Gran'Pa Downie was a wizened old wise sage
Who's needs were few, his wants even less.
With a huge bald head, both forearms bowed,
His spine was so calcified it bent him forward
Making him unable to look up without sitting down.
His Scottish brogue, heavy RRRs, spoke of his birth.
His physical look told a quite different story.
This ship's joiner, carpenter, traveled Cape Town,
South Africa to home port, Glasgow, Scotland.
His disfigured physical features developed from,
We thought, deficiencies in his diet during long
Trips at sea aboard tramp steamer cargo ships.
Is one born a sage or does it slowly develop
Through adversity during a health decline ?
Or does Man temper, as steel from iron does,
When it's super heated molecules implode
Making them much stronger through firing ?
From this sage we find his strength in words.
Gran'Pa said :
" A good job is it's own reward ."
" Please measure twice so you cut just once ."
"A job worth doing is worth doing well ."
"I don't care ! " "Just is not a good answer ."
In Love For My Grandfather, I Am,
Ronald C . Downie
Gran'Pa Downie was a wizened old wise sage
Who's needs were few, his wants even less.
With a huge bald head, both forearms bowed,
His spine was so calcified it bent him forward
Making him unable to look up without sitting down.
His Scottish brogue, heavy RRRs, spoke of his birth.
His physical look told a quite different story.
This ship's joiner, carpenter, traveled Cape Town,
South Africa to home port, Glasgow, Scotland.
His disfigured physical features developed from,
We thought, deficiencies in his diet during long
Trips at sea aboard tramp steamer cargo ships.
Is one born a sage or does it slowly develop
Through adversity during a health decline ?
Or does Man temper, as steel from iron does,
When it's super heated molecules implode
Making them much stronger through firing ?
From this sage we find his strength in words.
Gran'Pa said :
" A good job is it's own reward ."
" Please measure twice so you cut just once ."
"A job worth doing is worth doing well ."
"I don't care ! " "Just is not a good answer ."
In Love For My Grandfather, I Am,
Ronald C . Downie
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