Lawrence Hall, HSG
Thank God That’s
Over
St. Therese of Lisieux is said to have said
After an especially long liturgy
“Thank God that’s over!”
And who am I to argue with a saint?
Tuesday, April 2, 2024
Thank God That's Over - short poem
Make Worms Thy Heir - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Make Worms Thy Heir
Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 6
Let us speak of the utility of worms
There is much in them, including our ancestors
But without them we might not live at all
They enrich the earth, even with our earth
All children are our heirs; in them we live
They are God’s treasures, and we must treasure them
After the Order of Saint Joseph, and when we pass
Our children will say that God is passing by
Monday, April 1, 2024
Is There No Sulky Gas? - doggerel
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Is There no Sulky
Gas?
To the dentist this morning but woe and alas
Only a cleaning - no laughing gas!
Ha, ha, ha!
Time Will Play the Tyrant - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Time Will Play the Tyrant
Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 5
Time need not play the
tyrant; we have tyrants enough
But it is true that we
must go away
When time and God say we
have played our game
And must withdraw into
another world
We sneak past time with
our words and songs
Arcing over mortality with
truth
Distilling each day into poetry
That lives long after our hearts
and hands are stilled
Time need not play the
tyrant, for tyrants only bluff
And their poor poisons
with their masters die
Saturday, March 30, 2024
Look in Thy Glass - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Look in Thy Glass
Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 3
I look in the mirror and
ask, “Who is that old man?”
They said I favored my
mother when I was young
Red hair and freckles, and
an impish grin
But later they said I had
to become a man
She had her April, and
then so did I
And there are Aprils
enough for everyone
They are not my Aprils,
but they will do
Every April reflects our
youth back to us
I look in the mirror and ask, “Who is that old man?”
I miss my mother
Friday, March 29, 2024
Battle Stations Aboard the Bismarck - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Battle Stations Aboard the Bismarck
When general quarters
sounded that morning in May
Did a seventeen-year-old apprentice
cook
Rushing to his topside
battle station
But remembering the chief’s
daily admonitions
And the way his mother
kept her kitchen clean
Notice on a galley table a
speck of dust
And pause to brush it away
When general quarters sounded that morning in May
A Tattered Weed - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
A Tattered Weed
Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 2
Scene i: a lawn chair beneath a shady oak
Okay, sure, sometimes I feel like a tattered weed
After my morning’s work, creaking into my chair
And reaching for my iced tea and a book
Sipping on both for a vision of youth
My Hercule Poirot body is made almost young again
By strolling through Arden with Rosalind and Orlando
(Only for a while; they would much rather be alone…)
And then the iced tea tells me of Ceylon
Okay, sure, sometimes I feel like a tattered weed
But sometimes - forever young
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