Sunday, February 1, 2026

The University of Granddaddy - poem

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home - Hello Poetry

 

The University of Granddaddy

 

Class meets on the wooden steps of the old back porch

Syllabus:

Talking. Listening. Whittling on a length of cedar

Please bring: a Schrade-Walden Old Timer pocketknife

Pale Shadows and seasons - poem

 Lawrence Hall

A re-write and re-post of an older poem:

 

Pale Shadows and Seasons

 

Pale shadows and seasons and leaves drift by

The slanting sun of February falls

With merciless mortality upon

Our weak attempts to prepare for spring

 

The leaves we mulch today mulch us tomorrow

The roses we prune in anticipation of June

Await the night when we are pruned for them

While the wolf pack keens beneath the ancient moon

 

No, It Wasn't the Medications - poem

Lawrence Hall

mhall46184@aol.com


                                   No, It Wasn't the Medications


Last night my friend and mentor was dreamed to me

He was himself again, and so was I

Among Spenserian fields and forests and friends

In a summer world all warm and green

 

In a time of waiting rooms and surgeries

Slow days of headaches and painful awkwardness

Appointments, lab reports, diagnoses

He came as a comfort, a vision of what will be

 

We did meet again, and we did smile

And so, just so, we all will meet again

Saturday, January 31, 2026

Maybe Winter is Tired - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home - Hello Poetry

 

Maybe Winter is Tired

 

And taking a break for a few sunny days

Icicles have dripped and dropped away to earth

Merry breezes breathe away dawn’s drifting haze

A warm front soon after the new year’s birth

 

But even now the north drops down in greys

The shifting wind blows dark, decaying leaves

Away to prep for tomorrow’s icy glaze

As the wilding weather bobs and weaves

 

The paling sun drops coldly in the west -

False spring in its own turn now takes a rest

This is the Church House, This is the Steeple - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home - Hello Poetry

 

This is the Church House, This is the Steeple

 

This is the church house

This is the steeple

Open the doors

And see all the…rioters, ICE, podcasters, snoops, gossips, busybodies, stirrers, activists, influencers, selfie-istas, agitators, provocateurs, disruptors, boors, instigators, trespassers, hecklers, hooligans, gorms, dips, loonies, stooges, vandals, protestors, patsies, and puppets

 

(One hopes they left a few coins in the poor box)

Friday, January 30, 2026

"A Republic, Madam, If You Can Keep It" - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home - Hello Poetry

 

“A Republic, Madam, if You Can Keep It”

 

-attributed to Ben Frankling and many others

 

Americans, please take time for reflection -

While watching the rioting we might take note

That in the last presidential election

35% of the people did not bother to vote

 

How Many People Didn’t Vote in the 2024 Election? | National News | U.S. News

Where We Grew Up is not Where We Are - against ICE

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home - Hello Poetry

 

Where We Grew Up is not Where We Are

 

Our fathers strong, home from Europe and the Pacific

Worked confidently at building a peaceful America

Lean, weathered, war-weary men in chambray shirts

Who sweated to make their crops and cattle grow

 

But the feed store shut up shop in the 60s

The gas station pushes eight-liners and vapes

The old picture show where John Wayne rode

Is now a missionary Christian fellowship or something

 

The drugstore with the best comic books burned long ago

Once-busy sidewalks are mostly weeds and grass

Our favorite rocker on the A.M. radio

Has long since been Forest Lawned in bronze

 

Our fathers are buried, and on the palantir

A man in an SS coat orders us to report each other

The University of Granddaddy - poem

   Lawrence Hall Mhall46184@aol.com Dispatches for the Colonial Office LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and...