I'm Gonna Write Myself

I'm gonna write myself

Into a state of happiness.

Gonna' pen my way

Back to you again.

I’ll fill up pages,

With our Used- to-Be's.

And view all the pictures

Of how it all began.

I’m gonna feel the way

I did back then

And smell that fragrance,

see you smile and grin.

I’ll not miss one day

Of our long ago past.

My love, through a dream,

I'll see given to you again.

But you will never know
I am standing by your side.
You did not want me then.
Why would you want me now?

I could never help you see me,
though I've tried through the years.
So many letters, never sent.
I'd love to tell you, but how?

By  A. L. Shipman  Jr.
1-2-2012

© 2011 A.L. Shipman, Jr. All Rights Reserved. Watermark template. Powered by Blogger.

Remember?

     Remember? Yes, I still remember her.

 Regrets? Yes, I will always have regrets.

Go back? No! I would be afraid I’d mess up and not have as good of a collection of memories as I do now.

Painful? Of course they are painful. They can not be painful enough for my liking. The stronger the love and memories of it, the better. The more pain.

Worth? I wouldn’t sell my memories of her for a lifetime of doubling my money, land and holdings, each day for a hundred years.

 Happiness? They give me ten times the happiness everyday for each instant of pain. That is a great return.

 Feel fine? Why, they make me fell fine every time I visualize the picture she gave to me and how she wrote, “Love”, just before her name on the back of it.

Forever! I told her forever, and I meant what I said!

A. L. Shipman Jr.

12-4-2006

Taken from a book I'm writing Called,  THE KEYS.

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Springfield to Memphis

I was in Springfield Missouri

When I got on a train.

It was 1954

In a cold, pouring rain.

No one was there to wave goodbye.

No one said,  “Adios.”

No soul-mate there to miss me.

Had no one that was close.

Found a seat in the dinner.

Got some coffee to sip on

As I watched Missouri fly by

Until all of it was gone.

Traveling Springfield to Memphis

On the Frisco Line.

It made me happy.

Made me feel so fine.

I didn’t know what would greet me

When I passed that Memphis sign.

Traveling Springfield to Memphis

On that mighty Frisco Line.

We flew down through Arkansas.

Made those steel wheels whine.

Rust did not have a chance.

Made those steel rails shine.

Cotton was growing on all

Those big flat land farms.

Every place was pretty

With its own special charms.

In West Memphis we crossed over

Rock Island and Mo-Pac rails.

Then crossed the big muddy.

That always thrills me, never fails.

Traveling Springfield to Memphis

On the Frisco Line.

It made me happy.

Made me feel so fine.

I didn’t know what would greet me

When I passed that Memphis sign.

Traveling Springfield to Memphis

On that mighty Frisco Line.

Got off of that train.

Walked up to Beale Street.

Ate barbequed ribs.

The meat was tender and sweet.

Listened to the blues

Late into the night

And then she strolled in.

What a beautiful sight.

I had to go home.

But I’m headed south again.

She said, “Come back to see me,”

And my new life began.

Traveling Springfield to Memphis

On the Frisco Line.

It made me happy.

Made me feel so fine.

I didn’t know what would greet me

When I passed that Memphis sign.

Traveling Springfield to Memphis

On that mighty Frisco Line.

A.     L. shipman Jr.

      12-5-2011

© 2011 A.L. Shipman, Jr. All Rights Reserved. Watermark template. Powered by Blogger.

Country Christmas

On wide river bottoms

The snow is deep.

The cottontails hop

And the wild deer leap.

It is so warm and cozy

In our sleigh

As it’s being pulled

By our trusty bay.

Sunlight sparkles off

The ice covered bluff.

This short trip we’re on

Is just long enough.

A gray trail of smoke

I see just ahead.

I wonder if the fire

Is baking bread?

Sleigh bells jingle

As we slide to a stop.

Mom gets out, then

Out of the sleigh I hop.

The old house is filled

With wondrous smells

While Grandma cooks

Some stories grandpa tells.

Mom helps Grandma.

Dad brings in some wood.

I’d share this with you

If only I could.

The cedar is trimmed

With silver and gold.

The tree is covered

With all it can hold.

Bulbs on its branches

Red, green and blue.

I smell the turkey

And the giblet stew.

The meal is grand

I cherish every bite.

This table spread is

A beautiful sight.

It’s time for the presents

Under the tree.

Here’s one for Mom and Dad.

Here’s one for me.

My country Christmases

I treasure so.

The joy and love

And ride in the snow.

A.L. Shipman, Jr.

10-15-84

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The Whispering Wind

There is a kiss on the whispering wind.

I sent it out to a dear lovely friend.

I know when it finds her; a new smile will begain,

As the kiss makes her think of me once again.

I recall the days I saw her face.

Her beauty, time can never  erase.

Her voice speaking, “How I love you.”

Me screaming, “I love you too!”

We would sit, sipping coffee, looking at each other’s smile.

She made me so happy. She was my own living doll.

I would act like she had a speck on her check.

Just touching her face made me grow weak.

She filled me with vissions of how life would be.

Oh what a future, with her I could see.

I will not speak of a thing called, “The End.”

Nothing is over for me and my friend.

The past, present and futuer I love to blend.
My love to her I contenuly  send.

For my kisses will always ride the whispering wind.

Each one is sent to her, my dear eternal friend.

      A. L. Shipman Jr.

11-30-2011

Taken from a book I'm writing called , "The Keys"

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Adventure in the Sky

I lay down to rest on grassy green bed.

Beneath old elm tree, here relaxed my weary head.

Gazed into the air where white clouds fly

Through the crystal blue in bird heaven on high.

My eyes did wander back to and fro

At the beauty of clouds, twas a heavenly show.

To walk on the thunderhead; for this I did sigh

Through the crystal blue, in bird heaven ,on high.

A thunderhead now growing much larger than the rest.

With beautiful white boiling from deep inside it’s chest.

It looked so soft; a perfect place to lie,

Up in the crystal blue, in bird heaven on high.

A thunderous voice boomed close by my side.

I jumped to my feet and started to hide.

It said, "Do not fear the knight who rides the sky

Up in the crystal blue, in bird heaven on high.

If with me you long to go,

Into the open sky its wonders to know.

Rise from the ground, we too shall fly

To the crystal blue, to bird heaven on high.

My heart leaped with joy at this precious chance.

To do such a thing tis an adventurer’s romance.

So we left dreary land. Went up into the sky

To the crystal blue, to bird heaven on high.

On white cloud horses we did swiftly go.

He pointed lightning sword, shouted, "There dwells the foe.

We fight as we float. Here we live and die.

Going through the crystal blue,in bird heaven on high."

Upon that thunderhead, the touchdown was soft.

As if on white sand we rode aloft.

Five gross foes appeared. To battle was their cry.

Going through the crystal blue, in bird heaven on high.

They were the foulest of foes, with battle-axes and hammers.

On lightning swords they beat, but we held high our banners.

Frightful thunder sounded as battle raged cross the sky.

In the crystal blue. In bird heaven on high.

O how the thunder sounded as lightning swords clashed

With foul foe hammers and battle-axes crashed

Boiling and rumbling the cloud graying in the sky.

In the crystal blue. In bird heaven on high.

The knight cut down four. I cut down one.

Their blood all spilled. The battle was done.

Sprinkled down from the cloud, where they did die.

From the darkened blue. From bird heaven on high.

I felt their cold blood sprinkle my weary face.

Awakened by the rain. To shelter I was chased.

Here will I stay while raindrops fly.

From the darkened blue. From bird heaven on high.

Finally the sky brightened. Storm clouds rolled away.

No gray cloud was left, only white ones on display.

Come back again white knight on some sweet by and by

Through the crystal blue. In bird heaven on high.

Older have I grown since I fought with all my might

Against the gray cloud foe with the white knight.

Forever will I remember the battle in the sky

Through the crystal blue, in bird heaven on high.

A.      L. Shipman Jr.    May 1980

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The Breeze on the Porch

The breeze was gently blowing against my face as I sat on the front porch of the old general store.  Three large trees stood to the left of it and I watched their long limbs swaying in the pleasant afternoon breeze.  The limbs grew out a long way from the tree trunk and bent down at the tips, some almost to the ground.  It was a very pleasant place to be sitting.

The old retired church pew, on which I sat, felt very comfortable.  I doubt that it had ever felt this good to many when in the church.  My back was toward the road and I faced the stores front wall, for in this position I could feel the most breeze.  It was a perfect day for just relaxing and being thankful for what one has and has had in the past, then having great hope for the future.

An occasional vehicle passed by taking people to visit family or friends and no telling where else.

Life in these parts seemed to be good although many complaints about high prices of food, gas, clothing, and building materials were heard.  Most took time to visit one another and relax.

I felt this day should go down in history.  Of course, it will not, for no great disaster happened, no earth shattering accomplishment manifested itself.  Yet to me it was one of the greatest days I have ever seen or heard of.  For there I sat at peace with myself, with my creator, I felt, and wishing no harm upon any person or thing in the world I knew.  Truly this was a great day.

The soda water thermometer read 91 degrees but the breeze made it feel much cooler.  Someone should write a poem about this day, I thought.

 

 

The breeze is cooling.
The day is fair,

As I sat relaxing

In the afternoon air.

Limbs on the large trees

Sway to and fro.

My contented feeling

I wish all could know.

The full front porch

On the old general store

Has a retired church pew

Which see Bible School no more.

It sits very nicely

Here in the shade.

I thank the Lord

For this day he made.

This place is as good

As any that I see

To speak to the Lord

Just between He and me.

         A. L. Shipman Jr.

               1984

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