Archive for Wednesday, January 3, 2007

Poet’s Corner

January 3, 2007

Editor's note: This week's poet is Mary Patty of Osceola, Mo., whose sister, Eleanor McKee writes "Aunt Norie's Sewing Column" for The Mirror.


¢ To submit poetry for consideration for Poets' Corner, drop it by our office at 520 E. Fourth; mail it to P.O. Box 920, Tonganoxie 66086; or e-mail it to editor Caroline Trowbridge: ¢ We're interested in hearing from you.

The city lies beneath the snow,
Ah, what a pretty sight.
I love to watch the downy flakes,
Come drifting through the night.
I gaze at Heaven's cloudy floor
And pause -- and wonder why
The little flakes can bear to leave,
The snowcaps -- in the sky.
So carelessly, so fearlessly,
They turn and tumble down.
They bring such joy and sledding fun,
To children -- in our town.
Do they come to join the fun,
Of life and love below?
Do they ever see the joy.
They bring -- in winter's snow?
Snowy -- frosty -- little flakes,
Amuse -- amaze -- astound me so,
I can close my eyes and see,
My sweet, beloved, beguiling snow,
Little snowflakes floating by.
I love the path you've chosen.
I am aghast -- for as you've passed,
I think my feet have frozen.

Jet Pilot

On board a great majestic jet,
They saw our turbines flash
Their red exhaust, that sped into
A trail of blackened ash.
Screeching, screaming onward,
How the gasping engines seethed,
As they climbed and raced into,
The very air they breathed.
We were aloft and streaked into,
The sky -- Oh smooth the flight,
Leaving in our wake the sun,
We sped into the night.
Quiet, peaceful flight at night,
-- As we raced quickly on,
It almost seemed the moon was there,
To see us race the dawn.
Then we saw a little flash
Of lighting, it would seem,
We checked but there was nothing
On our mobile radar screen.
And then alas, we ran into
A lightening storm and thunder,
Great enough to make us fear,
Our mighty craft might plunder.
Lightening touched our wing tips,
The turbulence was rough.
Our radar scope had missed it,
It hadn't seen enough.
We raced into the darkness,
Lost engine number two,
We dropped and then we leveled,
The way a jet can do.
Then we heard a distant voice,
From somewhere in the night,
We were on their radar and
They guided in our flight.
Crisply came the trusted voice,
To guide our crippled craft
With its human cargo to
The lighted runways path.
I am the airline captain and
I have the flight's command.
And I love the one I know,
Who holds me in His hand.

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