Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
Cats, Coffee, Choices, Autumn Leaves, Friends
I sat outside this golden autumn day
Thinking about things, as old people do
And about the thoughts you send my way –
I thought
About choices. And Coffee. And cats. And leaves.
And you.
Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
Northern Lights and a Little Magic
I walked out to the hayfield
under the stars
To see the Northern
Lights that weren’t there
But the grasses
whispered in the autumn night
And then best of all
I heard you singing
Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
Cranky Old Aunt Robert
“I just don’t go to funerals anymore,” he said
Oh, he was all right, the town’s bachelor lawyer
He was just like that, as everyone agreed
A bookish old lawyer and the town eccentric
When we were young, he and I read Paradise Lost,
Along with Friend Tod, of happy memory
But with time he recused himself from life
And had me ‘phone him about the town doins’
“I just don’t go to funerals anymore,” he said
But a week or two later
he did
Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
Your Words, Your Way
At the end of the
day, your words, your way
Now healing and
sealing the wounds of your friends
Giving grace and peace
to the Vespers hour -
We open your book
and look, and read your joy
At the beginning of
night, your words, your light
Through your verse
rehearse the teachings of peace -
They are to us a healing
waterfall of dreams
And then a covering warm
with autumn-night stars
Now you sleep too; this
soft blanket is for you
For your happy dreams,
sweet and true, all night through
Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
As I was a-walking One Morning for Pleasure –
We See Stories as We Walk
From “Git Along, Little Dogies”
-American, traditional
The road doesn’t end here, but something did
In the lonely dark, with a cigarette and beer
A can of Miller Lite drained out last night
And a cigarette end, to mark an end
An end to love, now faded in the sun
One of each, not two, an empty man
Going home alone, stopping here a while
And wondering why his everything went wrong
The road doesn’t end here, but something did -
And maybe there’s a job waiting in Wyoming
Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
Is There a Thai Army Knife?
“A man’s not dressed without his pocketknife”
-my father, and surely yours
At Christmas friends
give me Swiss Army Knives
Precisely engineered
with all those nifty tools
A most useful
adjunct in all men’s lives
For camp and work,
this little gadget rules
Most days I carry my
British Army Knife
Rough and tough;
it’ll take it on the chin
The workman’s friend
both in peace and strife
(Oh, golly-gosh, the
hinge is broken again!)
What knife is
carried by a Thai G.I.?
Does the Garuda or Elephant
adorn its grip?
When guarding a
great nation’s land and sky
A soldier needs a
blade of fine craftsmanship
And in peace, too:
It’s true of every worker,
all through his life -
A man’s not dressed
without his pocketknife
(Just ask your father)
Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
He was a Cute Little Boy
And on occasion he was told no
“One…”
Sometimes he was yelled no
“Two…!”
Sometimes he was yelled no again
“Twooooo…!”
And again
“Twooooooooo…this time I mean it!”
Sometimes he was screamed no
“Twwwwwwwwwoooo! DON’T MAKE ME GO TO THREE!”
And again
“Threeeeeeeeeeee! I SAID THREE! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!”
But then
“Okay, one…”
And then
“Two, if you’ll tell your sister you’re sorry…”
And then
“OKAY, MISTER, THREE! AND I MEAN IT THIS TIME!”
And then
(“Honey, don’t you think you’re being a little rough? Now you’ve made him cry.”)
And then years later the state superior court told him no
And they didn’t yell.
And they didn’t say “one”
And they didn’t say “two”
And they didn’t say “three”
