Charlotte Harrison Camarillo, California

Charlotte has been writing poetry since she was 42. Now, at 83, she is still writing poetry, winning awards, and thoroughly enjoying her retirement from the Pleasant Valley School District in Camarillo, California. But poetry is not her only love. She writes short stories for her three grandchildren as birthday gifts. Her poetry has been published in two anthologies for The World of Poetry but she is most proud of an Easter Cantata, book and music, which was performed by her church in Lawndale, California, 20 years ago. She is an artist, as well as a musician, who is not limited to religious music. She feels her creative abilities have given her an enjoyment and an opportunity to meet interesting people in three fields. Creativity has enriched her life tremendously.

Bouquet A tired bouquet Of wilting grass Clutched in a tiny Dimpled hand Placed in water With tend'rest care As through 't were for An orchid rare Only a mother Knows their worth These ... The most precious blooms On earth!

Bittersweet Lament We must build a man, my son A strong and vibrant one, With bones enriched with calcium To bleach white in the sun. We must build a man, my son A healthy, stalwart man... Whose blood is rich and red and ripe To paint some far-off sand. Yes, we must give the best, my son The "lead sheep' of our fold. So clean your plate and drain your cup Try not to catch a cold For we must build a man, my son With serums, vitamins and oil For the blood you shed must be the best That e'er darkened foreign soil!

Heavenly Surprise I crossed the threshold through blackest night I entered the Portals, golden and bright And then thrilled to the glorious sight Of Moslem, Brahmin, Buddhist, Jew Of Catholic, Shinto and Protestant too... And I smiled as I knelt with them to pray For I thought to myself how this very first day Each of us could be heard to say ... "AND I THOUGHT MINE WAS THE ONLY WAY"

All poems Copyright © 1996 Charlotte Harrison. All rights reserved.