Robert Daniels

Archie, MO, USA

Robert has been writing poetry all of his adult life. He strives for tight rhymes and powerful adjectives to catch and hold the reader's interest. Robert is retired from Civil Service, a jet engine specialist by trade. Besides being a voracious reader, Robert enjoys hunting and fishing. He and Suzanne (his wife of nearly forty years) spend much of their time involved with activities of their seven children and nineteen grandchildren. Robert feels that, the rhythm and use of adjectives make poetry more descriptive and beautiful than prose, also much shorter. So, poets need to be better in their field than authors. Robert is currently negotiating a publishing contract on some of his works.

Beauty

As elusive as a fleeting smile,
As broad as the vagabond sea,
Deep in thought we ponder a while
On beauty and the things that we see.

The paintings and pictures beautific
By masters fulfilling their goal,
The melodious movement of music
Add beauty and depth to the soul.

The wonder and wisdom of nature,
Mer scenes majestic to view,
The peace and serenment and pleasure
Of seeing their contrast and hue,

The song of a bird in the Springtime,
The sight of a deer at the brook:
There is beauty for all of us sometime
If we’d only remember to look.

A Last Lament

Singing songs and telling jokes
And drinking their whiskey straight
When out of the din there came a croak
From a feller’ as sudden as fate

I’m poor and I’m tired of this life I’ve led
All this rotgut and hussies in red
And them that aims in the gambling games
To clean you of all that you’ve had

I’m sick of greed and the whiskery breed
That hangs out in this honky tonk heap
Of the money I’ve spent and how it all went
For a life that is bawdy and cheap

Oh, I’ve rode with the worst, I’ve robbed and I’ve cursed
And I’ve killed me and Injun or two
I’ve held up some trains for material gains
And my virtues, they’s been mighty few

But now I’m all done, gonna hand up my gun
And get out of this honky tonk dive
Gonna ride a new road and carry my load
And be thankful that I’m still alive

Then he put down a buck, that he said was for luck
And turned to go with a lurch
When a hussy in red stopped him and said
"Bye, Reverend, see you in church"

Missour’s Seasons

The dogwood that's blooming on top of the hill
The meadow larks soft melodious trill
The daffodils brightness by my window still
The fragrance of springtime is always a thrill

The wip-poor-will calling a song to his mate
The firefly's flicker when evening is late
The roses are climbing by my garden gate
The hot hazy days of summer are great

The bursting of color, leaves magically fall
The high flying geese and their echoing call
The quail that are sunning themselves by the wall
The brisk autumn breezes as temperatures fall

The snowflakes that fall with astonishing grace
The whiteness that changes the Earth’s haggard face
The window is painted all frosty with lace
The contrast makes this most wonderful place