A pedestrian is a fellow who
Tries to put the B on you:
He Bolts, Backs, Baits, Balks and Bemuses,
Then Blames you for his Bumps and Bruises.
by Ray Romine Thursday, April 6, 1950
Selections from Trella Romine's library at Terradise Nature Center
A pedestrian is a fellow who
Tries to put the B on you:
He Bolts, Backs, Baits, Balks and Bemuses,
Then Blames you for his Bumps and Bruises.
by Ray Romine Thursday, April 6, 1950
I’m sure that I shall never dream
About a one more lovely:
You standing there, your eyes alight;
I kissed you, heavens abovely!
Dreams are so vague–should I tribute pay
To YOU–or your black-lace negliee??
by Ray Romine Sunday, May 16, 1943
As I rake, the song in my heart I hear
Is a paean for leaves that are crisped and sere.
Not that I’ve gone poetic and mushy–
They burn much better than when they’re slushy
by Ray Romine Sunday, November 11, 1951
Whenever I’m in doubt about
A thing I “know I know,”
That’s when I’m apt to shout it out
To hand a foe a blow.
Beware you, though, my pure allure
When I don’t pound around;
For when I am demure, be sure
That’s when I’m sound of ground.
MORAL
When you hear a loud barrage
Of words, look out for camouflage.
by Ray Romine Wednesday, March 15, 1944
This little poem, quick and facile:
A man’s home OUGHT to be his castle.
by Ray Romine Thursday, January 7, 1954
NOW say, my heart, those perfect words
I phrase when she’s away;
Describe the things my spirit sings–
Get going, feet of clay!
Yet I’ll forgive my craven heart.
When my hand holds hers captured
We need no speech; the pauses each
Convince us we ‘re enraptured!
by Ray Romine Sunday, February 25, 1951
Now snow in October is surely the thing–
I get a great kick from it then.
I smile as I wade it a-going to work
And grin as I gaze from my den.
For it all seems so new and so beautiful. too
When the first snow comes tumbling to earth.
But now in the spring I’m so tired of the thing
I just can’t pretend any mirth.
And still I suppose when next fall brings it’s snows
I’ll be grinning as I’ve grinned before,
And smile as it hits me and gets in my ears–
THEN cuss it in spring as before.
by Ray Romine Wednesday, March 29, 1933
The Devil will cock his ear, and lunge
To the cupboard where he keeps his sponge,
So he can throw it up, and yell,
“STOP! This place is beginning to SOUND like Hell!”
by Ray Romine Saturday, October 30, 1943
If my suits don’t look one-half so sporty
Now I’m 40,
What chance have I of looking nifty
After 50???
by Ray Romine Wednesday, November 16, 1949
Some of those elder knights I can’ t ever place in the proper century
were certainly ventury.
Some took almost unbelievable chances
Of getting themselves impaled on lances.
While some sallied forth to battle dragons,
Others drank from doubtful-vintage flagons;
Occasionally they got themselves entangled in the goshawfullest messes
By dashing to the aid of longhaired damsels in varying kinds of distresses.
For the life of me I can’ t see why a lot of zany characters should rather be mounted metal fortresses
Than to study up and get themselves Jobs , say like bellhops or portresses.
Hardly anybody then had time for Canasta, stamp-collecting or doodling
Because of so much feudaling.
As though the ordinary hazards weren’t enough of the severe,
Some knights like Lancelot risked a quick swipe from Arthur’s
trusty blade over Guinevere.
Between two knights, one of the more scientific ways of maiming,
hacking and busting
Was known as jousting.
{Now, what occurs between two nights
Is just called a day.)
Withal, however, I conclude no knight ever took the risks ,
forsooth, nor was he so adroit
As a modern daredevil who chances the family car on a quick
run through Detroit.
by Ray Romine Wednesday, March 22, 1950