The Little Cloud!

There once was a little cloud,
Drifting gently through the sky;
Along came the angry wind,
And tried to make it cry;

The wind blew and blew,
Fortunately it was all in vain;
No matter how the wind tried,
The little cloud refused to rain;

It drifted above the mountains,
There it lingered for a while;
It crossed the flowing plains,
Where it began to smile;

Then came a rampaging storm,
And gave the little cloud a twirl;
Soon it was back on it's course,
For it's journey around the World;

In a Field of Fear!

In this our make believe world,
The flag of doubt has been unfurled,

Standing in a barren field of fear,
Gloomy harvest for the coming year,

To continue dwelling within the past,
We deserve all in life that will be cast,

Of today's song that we must sing,
Bares upon what tomorrow will bring,

Reaching deep down within our soul,
Now is the hour to ensure our goal,

A Mother's Gift!

The most precious gift of all is the unconditional love of a child!

The following is based on a story in the news media I read
several years ago! The young girl in the story wasn't dying.
Most of this poem is based on our own grand-daughter who died
at the age of ten months from birth defects. If our grand daughter
had of lived, I'm sure she would have been like the little girl in
this story.

A Mother's Gift!
By L. Don Oliver

She was only seven years old,
Having nothing to her name;
Suffering from a terminal illness,
But, no one would she blame;

Her mother's birthday was nearing,
Alas, the times were very sad;
She placed into a box,
The only treasure that she had;

She placed a note upon the box,
Then she wrapped it with care;
She gave it to her mother,
Who was standing there;

Soon the angels came,
Just before that day;
Upon their gossamer wings,
They carried her away;

The mother unwrapped the gift,
After undoing the ribbon tie;
Reading her daughter's note,
She began to cry;

"Please do not open,
Until I'm in heaven above";
"For this box is filled,
With all of my love";

The Ship of Fools!

Politics is a game and one that I wouldn't bet on; because, both teams have been fixed!

The Ship of Fools!

By L. Don Oliver

The seedling of an oak,
Oh! care not shall I;
If it ever grows an inch,
Or ever touches the sky;

Slaves to our foolishness,
Oh! care not shall we;
The ashes from the fire,
That we choose not to see;

Those who wear complacency,
Perilous lies the crown;
Like the walls of Jericho,
They too will tumble down;

Seeds of the forgotten ones,
Planted shallow in the ground;
Now overgrown with many weeds,
No flowers there to be found;

Storm clouds are gathering,
Then comes the howling dust;
The seeds of doubt are blown,
In a field of continuing mistrust;

The scorching lightening strikes,
The mighty thunder wails;
And we all are on board,
A ship without any sails;

The Silence of the Deep; growing up

Growing up the military life is all that we knew. Our father was a career Navy man who
during World War II was stationed in Norfolk, Va. We lived aboard the base and I can
still remember many nights the lights would go off and the search lights would scan the
darkened night. Mama would make us get under the bed and we usually slept there.
Although there were several U-Boats sighted off our shores, we were never attacked.
After high school, I too went on active duty and retired from the Navy. I too had a tour
of duty in Norfolk in the late 1960's and visited the places we use to live.

The Silence of the Deep!
By L. Don Oliver

A gentle refreshing sea breeze,
Waves splashing upon the shore;
Seabirds soaring above me;
A beautiful new world to explore;

In the shadows of my soul,
The world above me asleep;
Slipping slowly beneath the waves,
Into the silence of the deep;

Serenity of quite solitude,
Rainbow creatures swimming by;
Lovely flowering coral reefs,
One is thankful to be alive;

Where there's rhyme and reason,
No imperative schedule to keep;
Controlling my own destiny,
In the silence of the deep;

Bubbles from a fissure below,
Up from the darkened steep;
At peace with the world,
In the silence of the deep;

When life has passed me by,
Broken dreams never to mend;
Things that I once enjoyed,
Ever winding down to end;

If to die on the morrow,
With promises to ever sleep;
I pray thee my final rest,
In the silence of the deep;

Seize the Moment; growing up

Seize the Moment!
By L. Don Oliver

In the awakening of the night,
Darkness comes before the dawn;
Yesterday what seemed eternal,
In a blink has suddenly gone;

Then the sun lights up it's heaven,
It's life giving rays it will imbue;
Once again fresh hope is given,
As a gift that we must renew;

Never allow all your chances,
To go quickly rushing by;
They are gone in a moment,
When we never dare to try;

Never linger in the past,
Feel the beauty of each day;
Enjoyment will bring contentment,
And love will show the way;

The Servic; growing up

When I was growing up I attended church services with my mother. We went to
almost every Sunday services and Prayer Meetings. Daddy attended once a year
to see the Christmas play, in which I usually had a part in.

The Service!
By L. Don Oliver

All the members got together,
To conduct a service in his name;
They sent out many notices,
But there was no one that came;

The Lord dipped his mighty sword,
The lightening streaked all around;
Then he clapped his mighty hands,
And there came a thunderous sound;

It rained for forty days and nights,
They climbed trees that were low;
They tried to escape his wrath,
Alas, they were too slow;

The next service that was given,
They came on their own accord;
Reasoning it was much safer,
To never tempt the Lord;

Tip; growing up

Tip moved into our neighborhood and all of us kids
adopted him. At first, Tip was completely wheel chair
bound. Through physical therapy furnished by the Polio
Foundation and the encouragement of his family and
friends, he was eventually to escape the wheel chair and
become a normal functioning person. He had some minor
problems with his speech and movement; but, he handled
them with ease!

Tip!
By L. Don Oliver

Tip was our friend,
In a wheel chair was he;
Suffering from Infantile Paralysis,
Polio we would come to see;

We would include him in our games,
Pushing him up and down the street;
Pushing him from base to base,
His excitement was our treat;

One day I gave him a sailor hat,
He wore it with great delight;
Then two brothers stole his hat,
Quickly disappearing from sight;

When we finally chase them down,
We punished them to an extreme;
But they got our final message,
To never again attempt this scheme;

Tommy; growing up

I don't know why he wanted to challenge me? We met on several occasions
under Mr. Rice's pecan tree at the corner of 56th st. and Buffalo Ave. I would
take him down and hold him until he said enough. The last time we brawled
I discovered his reason, after he got a lucky punch in. I grabbed him by his
shirt and drew back to hit him. He had a big smile on his face. No, I didn't hit
him, I smiled back!

Tommy!
By L. Don Oliver

When I was eight years old,
As chubby as I could be;
Tommy sent word he wanted
To meet under the pecan tree;

The sun was shining brightly,
It was a very warm day;
I discovered very soon,
Tommy was not there to play;

He wanted to fight,
And I didn't know why;
He swung and missed,
And I made him cry;

Happening on several occasions,
The outcome was the same;
He would start the fracas,
And I would end the game;

The last time we met,
I didn't have my grip;
Tommy swung and hit me,
Splitting my upper lip;

It wasn't out of anger,
It wasn't just to fight;
Tommy kept on trying,
Until he got right;

Another Time, Another Place; growing up

I really wanted a Lone Ranger outfit, but I had to settle for a Gene Autrey
cheapy. I wanted that black mask so nobody would recognize me. However;
I did send off and did receive the Lone Rangers Secret Decoder Ring. I don't
remember how many bags of seeds I had to sell to get it. It was my first encounter
with the free market system!

Another Time, Another Place.
By L. Don Oliver

Upon my broomstick pony,
Trusted cap gun at my side;
Cardboard spurs upon my feet,
Atop "Ole Thunder" I'd ride, ride, ride;

All around the backyard range,
"Ole Thunder" and I would go;
Up through the Great Divide,
Down through the drifting snow;

A Texas western cowboy hat,
Tied with string beneath my chin;
Chasing that nasty chicken rustler,
That sooner dog called "Mangy Slim";

Leaving "Ole Thunder" to graze ,
In the cactus (sand spur) sea;
I'd scamper up my mountain,
An old china berry tree;

I'd gaze the vast backyard range,
Searching everywhere he might play;
I'll break that egg sucking varmint,
From his dastardly evil ways;

Espying him off in the distance,
Loping along he couldn't glide;
I'd shimmy down my mountain,
Mount "Ole Thunder" and ride;

Reining "Ole Thunder" in,
Trotting oh so very slow;
Right up to the Red Eye Saloon,
Shouting, "Mama I've got to go";

Bellying up to the bar,
Giving the barkeep a baser;
"Give me a shot of fruit juice,
With a buttermilk chaser";

Remounting my faithful steed,
"Ole Thunder" and I would fly;
Across the backyard prairie,
Out into the clear blue sky;

Clothes line around my waist,
"Thunder" and I off to the cattle wars;
Hoping not to be mistaken for,
That kid they called "Droopy Drawers"

Ah! the way of the cowboy life,
Always lean and very trim;
But they didn't have that nemesis,
That despicable desperado "Mangy Slim";

Hey Tex! Grubs on the table,
It's about rain barrel time;
Alas, reality extended it's tentacles;
Recapturing my wondering mind;