Brown Baby by Dennis Lange

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The white-tailed deer I feed seem mostly gray,
Though nothing makes my mind to think that way
Until one comes along of diff’rent shade
And side by side comparison is made. 

Once-spotted summer-born, now autumn fawn
That in these last few weeks has crossed my lawn
Is diff’rent from the rest in brass and hue.
Like first-sight love, I saw her shade and knew. 

She sometimes come to feed without her doe.
That’s so unlike the others that I know,
For nature births a fawn with legs that fear
And take to flight instead of coming near. 

By what I first exclaimed, she’s now addressed.
Brown Baby is thus diff’rent from the rest.
I do not love her less because of that,
Or more as if her hue’s a thermostat. 

If all my deer were brown I would not mind
For white tails, warm, soft eyes would be their kind.
And if no brown one ever came my way,
It would not matter if they all were gray.

What matters is that they would be my friend
And not turn tail and run away as wind,
And that they do not war as neighbors war.
One’s color is not cause to love them more.

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The photo is mine. Brown Baby is the fawn in
the upper left.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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Martin Luther King, Jr. by Dennis Lange

King dreamed that he would say (when chains were past
Or strands so thin and few), these words long overdue,
“Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

Though Egypt was behind, her reach was vast.
And like the wind, he blew winged words that fell like dew.
King dreamed a dream when all the chains were past.

His voice was Gabriel’s mighty trumpet blast;
The march began on cue, toward Canaan’s words and view,
“Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

His dream? – by hate and pharaohs not harassed;
Men judged, not by their hue; a future bright and new.
King dreamed a dream when all the chains were past.

Upon the farther shore, his people massed,
The sea returned and blue, they’d shout because they knew,
“Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

Let go the broken chains! Away, them cast!
The speech and dream came true, for all who dare and do.
And now men say, since all their chains are past:
“Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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The Greenhouse by Dennis Lange

I am a greenhouse plant that grew
…From seed to youthful tree,
Kept far from both the frost and dew
…Where plants felt agony. 

I was not pampered as a child,
…But sheltered from the hate
That runs throughout a world gone wild
…Like cracks creep ‘cross a plate. 

It wasn’t that I didn’t care;
…I simply was naïve
That prejudice was even there
…O’er color of a sleeve. 

And so it was, that I was blest
…And at the same time, cursed.
Of prejudice – I passed the test.
…At knowledge, I’d not nursed. 

No integration at my school;
…I didn’t even know
That coal was still against the rule
…E’en with the piles of snow. 

And so the strangers came one day
…As if a planet far
Had sent their messengers to say,
…“May we live where you are?” 

It mattered not one whit to me;
…Green was my greenhouse hue,
And under our glass canopy,
…Weren’t all the new ones, too?

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

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