L. Casey Jr.
Dearborn, Michigan
L. Casey Jr.Dearborn, Michigan |
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Poetry has been a part of my life since learning to read. Most of my poetry revolves around my wife of thirty four years, Jillayne, my four children, and my four grandchildren. Since retiring two years ago, I devote time each day to writing. Thanks to the National Library of Poetry for the opportunity to reach others. |
Mountain HomeThe scent of HoneysuckleIn the air. The green of Summer, The colors of Autumn, A frosty morning. Strange, The things we remember As we get older. Swimming holes, Winding roads, Sandstone bluffs. Treks through the woods, Lasting for hours. Only now, as time Grows shorter, Do we keep things In perspective No bad memories, As I wander These places in my mind. For this is The place that Shaped me, made Me what I am today. I have to return more Often these days. To lift my spirits, And refresh My soul. |
ToysThe Hobby HorseStands idle. The blocks Are gathering dust. Teddy Bears are Hibernating, No longer do They fuss. It seems their Usefulness Is over. It's not I swear. For I still Play with them, When no one is Around to care. With my head Lain back, And my eyes closed, You may think I'm Sleeping, but I'm Not you know. The blocks Still build castles, With towers to the sky. The Hobby Horse Still rocks, Carrying cowboys and Heroes on the fly. The Teddy Bears Still prowl In the stillness Of the night. So please, Don't put them away. The children have Not all moved on 'Cause when you see Me napping, The toys are still Alive and strong. |
SearchingMy soul is searchingAn eternal quest. For peace and quiet, And final rest. Does it ever, ever end, Or do we have to do it, All over again. |