An Appeal

by ST

America, wake up!
Let go this dream of a carefree childhood--
You forget care that then wrinkled you brow.
You had all to cope with that so young a one could--
By comparison small indeed with what you face now--
Now you have grown up, and so have your troubles.
Life is not a summer spent wading, splashing in streams,
Running through fields, flying kites, blowing bubbles in the breeze;
You can't escape reality, even its hum-drum, in dreams.
Dreams delude with a rose-tinted past,
Or shade your today that you can't see it clearly;
The good of a dream is to prescribe, that at last
A more perfect vision will correct an outlook now dreary:
Dreary as life is, with its blahs and double blahs.
This fantasy will only make things worse;
Romanticizing never mended any flaws,
And someday, not distant, this glass bubble will burst.

America, wake up!
Open your sleep-filled eyes.
Troubles are here, they are now,
They stare you in the face.
They do not flee from thee,
Nor can ye flee from them.
You will run into a wall
And smash your haughty nose
If you walk with your eyes thus closed.
Wake up, America.

written in the late 1970s

Betrothal

by ST
Why should I become to you betrothed?
What great treasure does your love unfold,
And lay upon my lap?
This could all be just mishap.
But then, why is my heart so tangled up with yours?
As though your love my love adores--
And seeks more assurance, and more assurance finds,
And each new circle more strongly binds
Our love.
Two turtledoves? (No)
I think to you I will become betrothed,
And wait to see what eventually may unfold.
Lay hour head upon my lap,
Close your eyes, and dream, and nap.
And then, as my heart is so tangled up with yours,
As though your love my love adores--
And seeks more assurance, and more assurance binds--
Each new circle will more strongly find
Our love.

Stars in My Eyes

by ST
. . . we met . . .
O how the heavens set in such a blush!
No longer the mockingbird, but the peaceful dove
     sent forth its little coo:
At last, the perfect melody in that sweet birdsong--
It floated over me, tickled my ear 'til I laughed.
I walked back to where the castle stood,
For I had nearly turned from that ruin
     and all its romance.
And now I shall gaze with different tears
     through the glittering moonless night.
for Sal

Happy Ever After

by ST
Five years today we have been wed,
Five years we've shared the kitchen, bath, and bed,
Five years of fifty or sixty at most--
The most most couples may hope--
But what of the After, the Happily Ever?
Why should cruel death our promises sever?
Then let us with God, our Witness and Juris,
Re-covenant that covenant covenanted between us,
And include now infinity, and forever onward,
And include now infinity, and forever onward.
for Dave & Alice on their 5th anniversary

Wed Anew

by ST

"With this ring I thee wed . . ."
Solemn words that I once said--
And I meant them, and I do--
But there were things left yet unmentioned.
So now we vow our vows anew
With these new vows enduring, comprehensive;
Acquainted more with Life, Myself, and You . . .
Familiar, conversant--perceiving
What mornings, and evenings, and everydays bring:
Monotony, frustration, sorrow--and Joy!
Content am I to pledge myself
Constant, ceaseless, ever yours--and you to be
My Friend, Companion, Lover . . . now and through Eternity.
written for Dave & Alice 5th anniversary and sealing

Everlasting Love

by ST

May God bless you in your life's new venture;
May your interest and living be increased.
May you with joy live in God's indenture--
May He continue for Ever your lease
To have and hold, as hand in hand
You search, invent, and find content--
While Life's circle completes its band
And through Infinity extends.
May God bless you, keep you, and increase you;
May He embrace you, and you embrace Him.
May His Spirit enlighten and infuse
Your Home and Hearts, and overflow the rims
Of everlasting Love.
for Barbara on her engagement

Kittyhawk, North Carolina

by ST

she tried her first flight:

unsteady wings met the breeze.
her frame all a-tremble,
she took to the air . . . willing . . .
as her maker would please.

a very short run--
never far off the ground.
even that looked like too much . . .
could she hold herself together?

it wasn't much.
it was a lot.

by rights she was made to fly
 . . . and she did;
but it took a lot from her,
and her main claim to fame
(as they say)
was only as a predecessor to the jet age.

Spring

by ST

The mountain peeks
From under a blanket of snow,
Sees spring has come 
To the valley below.
Footed hills
Shoo away chills
And budding, leaves
No frosted frills.
Mouths of canyons
Yawn, as they stretch:
Crowned-heads stately water-etched.
Streams choose again 
Their banks to fill
With the richness of life
Blooming at will.
Seasons before, 
And seasons to come,
Will see color blush
From the black and white brush
With winter.

An Hymn

by ST

O Thou Savior, be my Guide
Against the tempest and the tide;
Comfort me, and keep me warm,
Calm my soul:  stretch forth thine arm.

Hard they press me--open the way.
Fears make a nightmare--call forth the day.
The Storm leaves me cold, wet, and empty of power--
Carry me! lest I fail in this troublesome hour.