New York Wed. morn.

Dear Julia

I have just walked down to the Bible House with Mr. Clapp and while he is opening and reading his thirty or forty morning letters I will write a word to you to tell you that I made my journey with safety and comfort and am this morning quite as well as could be expected. When I first got into the cars at Providence it was very close and warm, I felt quite uncomfortable with headache, but when I took off my overcoat and got a little ventilation through the cars I felt better and for the rest of the way had a very pleasant ride.… [Read More]

Dead Wrong

By Rose Dunlap

The lady in church with the curls
Remembers me, Mama, of you.
I love you,
But you are so wrong sometimes.
That wasn’t a sauna
At the hotel.
Don’t you know
What a hot-a-tub looks like?
And don’t tell me
That we are in America,
I know that we are in Rhode Island.
And I know best.

Rose Dunlap is five years old. She and her mother Justine (who is hardly ever wrong) spent Easter with her grandmother in North Carolina.

The Hedge Hogs

By Tom Viall

The Good Hedge Hogs live in a quilted spread
In a nest, in a box at the foot of my bed.
When the weather’s fair and my day has been bright
The Good Hedge Hogs come out and stay for the night.
They climb up the sheets and over my knees
And they rock me sleep just as sweet as you please.

The Bad Hedge Hogs live in my bedroom too
In the very same place where I once lost a shoe.
The Bad Hedge Hogs like the nights, sad news can create
So they climb on my belly and keep me awake.… [Read More]

Growing Up

by Lukas Brand

So many things, so much so much is new,
Yet is there something I can do?
In my small room I stare and stew,
Until the murals change, then I will too.

Adapted from a longer poem written in English by a young friend of the Poet Laureate. Lukas Brand is a student of Roman Catholic theology and mathematics at the University of Bochum, Germany

Ode to Johann Sebastian

By Kathy Hart

A German composer named Bach
Wore powdered wig with his frock.
His music prolific
Was really terrific.
To hear him musicians did flock.

His children were more than a few –
(21 if you count PDQ).
He lived a long life
With more than one wife,
And sired a musical zoo!

He held some well-known positions,
But composed under adverse conditions.
His music for organ
Was really a bargain –
He gave it away to musicians.

Dear Bach, we’d just like to say
Your music will live on a l w a y.… [Read More]

Haiku

By Gretchen Yealy

I know spring is near

When God stitches on each fir

Frills of palest green

When she is not clambering up and down mountain passes, Gretchen Yealy works as a catalog librarian at Brown University and enjoys being part of Central’s ushering team.

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

By Ilse Kramer

I
Nobody knows but you, My Lord,
That I still fear the dark.
I pray that you will send
Your brightest and your strongest angels
To guard my sleep
And keep my soul.

VI
The bedside lamp shines on my face,
Shines on my cheek and on my tears.
My eyes are closed. I see a gravestone
With pebbles on the top. I see a Star of David.
I see myself. I am a child.
I see a swastika.

VII
I roar with coughing, and my throat is raw,
I take some syrup, and it tastes like olive-oyster dip.… [Read More]

Easter 2010

By George Delany

After 3 days of wicked spring rains
A flooded basement
A car sunk into saturated earth
Lifeless, like a dead dinosaur
Spirits weighted down under
The presence of so much water
I spy along the edge of the stone wall
Amidst the carnage of the storm
Debris everywhere
A sea of leaves soaked browned
By relentless winds of winter
Rocks and mud all about
Leafless trees
Everywhere a palette of somber earth tones
Grays, charcoals and browns
Monopolize my beat-up field-of-view like war
A single solitary daffodil, green stemmed,
Her silent, solo, yellow face opened wide
She turns in brilliant salutation
To brightly welcome the sun

George Delany attended the Milton Hershey School, Hershey, Pa, and the Rhode Island School of Design.… [Read More]

Rose’s Poem

By Rose Dunlap

It’s dark outside,
And I am not tired
At all.
We’re on the street
Which is called the Boulevard,
And Mama is driving
More fast,
So fast
That suddenly
We’re on the moon,
And I am not tired
At all.

Editor’s comment: Rose’s mother is an excellent driver.

Rose Dunlap, a Kindergarten student at the Martin Luther King Elementary School, recently helped with the collating of the Church programs for Holy Week.

Prayer for Peace

By Kathy Hart

O God, whose mercy never ends,
we pray for wars to cease,
that hatred be abandoned,
replaced with love and peace.

If we could still our voices,
would we hear Your lament
about the world condition,
the cruel, sad events?

We pray that every nation
will live in Your embrace,
resolving the differences
of country, creed and race.

We lift up all Your peoples–
Muslims, Christians, Jews–
and ask that brotherhood prevail,
a higher call to choose.

O God, whose mercy never fails,
help us to find Your way.… [Read More]