Harold C. Schoessel

Manchester, Missouri

Born Sept. 15, 1914, Kimmswick, Missouri., Dad the Village Blacksmith, Mom, hardworking country housewife sang many old time Ballads. Graduated from Grade School 1929, (Great Depression), one year business administration. Military Service WWII 4 1/2 years Army Engineers. Personnel Div. Work history, building and testing Elect. Fans, Motors, Generators, Alternators and Electronic power supplies, 26 years Emerson Elect., 15 years Missouri Research Laboratories, Retired Sept. 15, 1979. Started saving poetry I wrote March 1, 1982. Searching for the lost word or combination, to qualify for re-entry into Heaven, by expressing inner feelings outwardly. Distinguished Member of The International Society of Poets.

Analogy Of Poetry

Thoughts and remarks are just sparks from up higher
That move around and rebound, like echoes of sound,
Ignite then unite little words with a fire of desire
Until they form a chain of wisdom, we try to explain.
It is not I nor you who these wonderful things do,
To be blest with our full rest free from all stress,
Our sleep complete and true, the Mind moves renewed,
With resistance released we find it reaches its crest.
There is a need to know the way your mature pulse goes,
Large to little from our middle and just under our hair,
This intelligence curve flows in and between the nodes,
Verve within Nous is always there, even in unused air.
Then from our conscious prayers to the someone upstairs,
There is kindled these quarks when in song dawn to dark,
Dark to dawn they twinkle along those smart little sparks,
Make no mistake! as we awake and become aware, they flare!
Poetry may not be its best when you hurry, worry or guess,
So use common sense, no less! with which we were blest,
Then all little words in line, balanced and refined
Will rhyme and appear just fine, to the ear and mind.

Purple House

This is exactly what I wanted
So I just up and done a wish,
Colors react not as one with us,
So now that is the sum of this.
Blending red in blue, said hues accrue
To my true view when shadows are few,
Then shades shed from brightness move,
Sun's love for red comes lightly through.
Old trends bend to colorful combinations,
Red in blue then gold on true bright white,
Sending their own new soulful sensations,
Rendering a droll house to a home I like.
While some will make fun of this
Until the bright sun strikes it,
Others still are stunned by this,
But no one! rightly shuns it.

As We Pray

Have faith in God's love
While Searching For Truth
On-the-wing of due prayer,
As persistence behooves...
Then fold and sway so our
Thoughts soaring in love
May return with new flair;
With our resistance removed
The magic is still there,
His presence is proved as
We soar lighter than air.