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Posts Tagged ‘Dennis Allen Lange’

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Like sleeper, from a hammock, rude removed from resting place,
I soon was seeking solace in a soothing shaded grace,
An old continued pastime that would comfort in my change
As I returned to my hometown from years upon the range.

Along the street I parked my car, that bright December day
And up the steps I slowly went, a snail, unsure the way
For memory did not connect the steps with aging feet;
What lay inside before my goal – a meeting room, a suite?

Ah, yes! There was a difference, and more I did not know;
Two workers now, a desk was changed, computer all aglow;
And still the place, besides the new, had feel of antique, old –
The walls were pillared and the floors had tales that could be told.

Before the books, just like the brooks, there was a bridge – a card.
So, up to worker’s desk I went, as if she were a guard.
I told her what I needed – just a key to reading’s door.
And she replied, “Have you, with us, e’er had a card before?”

   When I was lad, my summers were
       A time from town retreating,
   To parents’ farm ten miles away –
       Cows mooing and sheep bleating.

   I lived there almost like a monk,
       Away from friends I cherished;
   No next-door neighbor like in town –
       My social life near perished.        

   I found another set of friends;
       They came each time invited.
   I felt as honored as if I’d
       Been called to court and knighted.

   And so my summer days were filled –
       Companions and adventure.
   They came those days; they quickly left,
       Like teachers without tenure.

   With Nancy Drew, I looked by lake
       For clue of broken locket.*
   We searched an attic old as dust
       For songs played out of pocket.**

   The Hardy boys came some days
       Both Frank and Joe – detectives.
   Of course, we all were given help
       By their Dad’s wise directives.            

     Some summer days were twice the fun
       And more than twice – twice doubled
     For Flossie, Freddie, Bert, and Nan
       Were Bobbsey twins that bubbled.

     And then some days I left the farm
       (My parents didn’t know it).
     The time machine sat by my bed
       Into the past, I rode it.

     To Tuskegee and Carver’s lab,
       I flew, launched by the pages;
    And with Von Braun, I moved toward space
       And gazed at rocket’s gauges.       

     I looked, while perched on Bunker Hill
         And saw the redcoats coming
     As thick as ants to claim a mound,
         An army marched by drumming.

   I saw defeat at Waterloo,
         With Lindbergh crossed the ocean;
     With Alexander, conquered worlds,
         With leopard’s swiftest motion.

I’m back. You asked about a card. My old one’s thrown away.
I used it for so long and oft, was worn out like cliché.
I did; I had one here; I doubt it’s in your records though –
Unless you have the registers for fifty years ago.

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* ND   The Clue of the Broken Locket, 1934

** ND   The Secret in the Old Attic, 1944

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The photo is mine, of Carnegie Library in Ballinger, Texas.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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Prov 22 13

I’ve written all of Psalms and Proverbs in poetry that rhymes and has rhythm.  The book will be available at Amazon before Christmas.  If you’re interested (and have not already said so),  let me know in the comments.

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copyright Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill@wordpress.com, 2018.

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When recognition fin’lly comes
For one who sleeps the Sleep,
He receives it not at all,
And honors cannot keep. 

It is a rain that falls upon
A dead crop in the field
That gave its life in vain in wait
Until its fate was sealed. 

Give honor when the honor’s due;
Let praises fall like rain,
And hold it not till eulogy
Plows under shriveled grain.

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photo by Michal Zacharzewski at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/n0VKz7o/Cemetery+in+winter

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

 

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MacArthur
Rode in this black car
With his pipe.

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The photo is mine, taken of MacArthur’s car in a museum in Norfolk, Virginia.

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/
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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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Katrina, tsunami, quakes, and wind
What more terrors will the great God send?
Trumpets that warn us; thunders that rumble
Wrath storms from heaven cause kingdoms to crumble. 

We’re mockers; we’re scoffers when told to “Repent”,
Yet woes and the warnings – both heaven sent.
But bad as they were, the worst is now nearing
Unless we start heeding and turn to God – fearing.

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Unless this nation repents and stops abortion murders of
the unborn (2500 per day), God will destroy us.   More
information is at my website: MineNotTheNine.com

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Photo by Dez Pain at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nMPzAP0/Forked+Lightning

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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The righteous man escapes much trouble,

But wicked men receive it double.  (Proverbs 12:21)

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I’ve written all of Psalms and Proverbs in poetry that
rhymes and has rhythm.  I’m in the process of having
the book published before Christmas.  If you are
interested, let me know in the comments.

———————————————————————-

Photo by Billy Frank Alexander at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/o5Qx1di/Proverbs+Banner

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

 

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Names we know
Once walked in these halls –
Jay, Fish, Hughes….

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The photo is mine, of the capitol building of New York in Albany.

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/
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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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(please read the note after the poem after reading the poem)

1,2 Behold, as the eyes of a servant
…..To the hand of their master they glance;
…..Behold, as the eyes of a maiden
…..To the hand of her mistress advance –
…..So, too, do my eyes as I worship
…..Look to God in grand heaven’s expanse.
 

3,4 Be gracious, O Lord, do be gracious,
…..For we bear much contempt from the proud.
…..At ease, they are brazen in scoffing;
…..The sound of rude mocking is loud.
…..In judgment, O Lord, be forthcoming;
…..And ride, swift to save, as You’ve vowed.

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I am in the process of publishing my poems in rhyme and rhythm
of all of God’s Psalms and Proverbs.  I hope to have it finished in
time for Christmas.  I think they would make great gifts for those who
love those two books in the Bible.  Let me know if you’re interested.

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Photo by Bill Davenport at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mg1TTLu/The+Living+Word

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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By my road
Was the river road
Paved with leaves.

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The photo is mine, taken in 2017 during a trip to the Northeast to see the fall foliage.

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/
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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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kfc

There once was a man from Kentucky,
Whose fortune was made by the clucky
(Chickens, that is);
The recipe his,
Sans feathers, it made him quite plucky.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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