"Look overhead" The captain said And pointed he then to the sky The moon, curious thing Had a silvery ring And appeared as a cataract'd eye "Cloudy moon" copyright March 2004 by D. Emmons The waves, how they tossed And the bo'sun was lost As the sky ope' and thundered down rain The brave captain cried As his loyal men died While the ship bucked, then bucked again "You'll not take my ship" The brave captain quipped And shook his fist at the sky But he fell 'neath the shock As his craft met with rock And the ship shuddered, broken, and died The legend is told Of the men, brave and bold Who went off to sea, there to die When the moon, curious thing, Had a silvery ring And appeared as a cataract'd eyeThis was written for a spring contest in The Pequawket Valley News
My eyes close tight against the tears As memories flood my mind I try to ignore the pain-filled loss Of my father, so warm, so kind My heart fills up with pain, not joy As the memories take me away I fight within, I hide my grief Not listening to what others say A gentle voice, a dear friend's touch Someone says "This way is best." Perhaps it was good that he passed away In the morning, at peace and at rest But I fight against the help-filled hands I curse the morning sun That rose to find my father dead At only fifty-one (undated photo of Robert L. Dow, whom the poem is about) He fought a murderous cancer For a year-and-a-half, you see "He's now with God", or so I say And wish it had been me For I remember, still, his smiling face And that very special day That, though his body suffered much He still had time to pray I think once more, remembering him And soon my eyes will fill I swallow hard and softly say "Oh Dad, I love you still."
When just a babe, who wiped me clean, Who soothed away each fright'ning dream, And taught me what that "no" word means? - My mother's patient hands Skinned up knees and runny nose, Broken fingers and bruised toes, Who helped me overcome all those? - My mother's healing hands And when my busy day was through Who showed me just what I should do, And taught me, God, to pray to you? - My mother's faithful hands And now that I'm a woman grown And have a "baby" of my own, I hope to pass on what I've known - From my mother's loving hands