Selections from Trella Romine's library at Terradise Nature Center
My son’s requests for something new
Are rational and very few.
They almost never are expensive
Enough to make me apprehensive;
Yet, when he mentions some small trinket,
I must confess I do not think it
Too unusual that I quake.
How many Box-tops will it take?
by Ray Romine Saturday, March 22, 1952
No car this year; the old is fine.
It still has some of last year’s shine.
It’s been with us through thick and thin,
And yet it’s barely broken in.
The engine’s swell; the tires are good;
I wouldn’t trade it if I could.
The upholstery is scarcely worn.
New car–What for? I say, with scorn.
The only flaw in all this is
I’m envying my neighbor his.
by Ray Romine Monday, March 24, 1952
May is that happy gala one,
The playful tomboy rare
Who chases rainbows to the sun,
An iris in her hair.
Her carelessness is awesome!
Fresh from her dew-fed bath,
She scatters bird and blossom
And laughter from her path.
by Ray Romine Monday, September 10, 1951
All the heavy concentration
In the world is weak and fickle
Placed beside the cerebration
Of a small boy with a nickel.
by Ray Romine Sunday, December 3, 1950
The dying hermit grasped my hand,
And turned his eyes to mine.
“Don’t feel sorrow, lad, for me–
Who’ll miss me; who will pine?
“My life’s been lonely? Aye, that’s true,
If we speak just of men;
But God has much to offer those
Who turn to him. Amen.
“I’ve talked with Him–I’ll live with Him
Now it’s my turn to go–“
He winced in pain. “Lean closer, boy,
I’ll tell you why I -know!”
You’ve heard how a weary wanderer
Is guided by a light
Placed in a window by his folks
To lead him home aright?
“Our Father, Lord of Heaven and earth,
Sure I no longer roam,
Will see that his Celestial Lamp
Guides this traveler home.
• • • • • • • • • •
I tiptoed to the window
In wonder, and I spied
The cause for his transfigured face
The seoond that he died.
One lonely star shone through the haze
Of cloudy troubled sky;
One flickering beacon, there for him
Who did not fear to die!
I thought I heard the hermit’s voice,
But strong with new-found vim:
“God’s Light will someday Justify
The Faith we have in Him.”
by Ray Romine Thursday, April 6, 1950
He is no first-rate friend of mine
(I’d say not more than third)
Who bawls at me in public when
I mispronounce a word.
by Ray Romine Sunday, November 18, 1951
I hold this truth self-evident:
My dough’s no good until it’s spent.
The unfair part, and who’s to doubt it-
It’s worthless too, once I’m without it.
by Ray Romine Thursday, May 18, 1950
If gossipy blatherings
Were cut from women’s gatherings
The girls might be surlier,
But they’d get home a lot earlier.
by Ray Romine Wednesday, May 9, 1945
Tracks in snow! Going where?
Need they go? They are there.
Snowy tracks from this spot?
I must know–made by what?
Curious mind, challenging,
Must unwind everything;
Analyze–find out why–
Paralyze charm thereby.
Curving tracks in the snow–
Pontiac’s. My auto!
by Ray Romine Sunday, February 13, 1944
Flowers from the year’s parade,
Some from rocky fern-clad glade;
Some reflecting summer sun;
Some as modest as a nun;
Others rivalling butterflies,
Quite as blue as April skies;
Flowers that have tempted bees
Into dancing ecstasies–0
Proof of Mother Nature’s skill
Photographed–and they live stilll
by Ray Romine Thursday, April 16, 1953