I saw her pass my open door,
But I’ve no interest anymore;
For once a man has gone to seed
He finds some things he doesn’t need.
by Ray Romine Tuesday, July 17, 1945
Selections from Trella Romine's library at Terradise Nature Center
I saw her pass my open door,
But I’ve no interest anymore;
For once a man has gone to seed
He finds some things he doesn’t need.
by Ray Romine Tuesday, July 17, 1945
A chap from Ohio named Taft
Was libeled and labeled as daft;
But in spite ot hot air
He still smiles, debonair,
Sort of caught, as it were, in the draft.
by Ray Romine Friday, November 3, 1950
The winter stands in silence now,
His white scarf pulled about his throat,
And contemplates , with furrowed brow,
His sparkling ermine overcoat.
The hungry sparrow chirps protest
Upon the callous icy air,
And l ongs for summer, when the best
Was always on his Bill-of-fare.
I know what his forlornness means,
For as the bitter days go by,
I’d give the winter’s choicest scenes
For one small yellow butterfly.
by Ray Romine Tuesday, December 18, 1945
Poets may term the earth rain-washed and dewey;
In spots, to me, it is downright gooey
by Ray Romine Tuesday, January 15, 1952
Thank God we are Americans
Who needn’t scrounge in garbage cans;
Yet Uncle Sam will see, it’s true,
We live upon the residue!
by Ray Romine Friday, August 24, 1951
Admittedly, I feel no safer:
Life’s still as fragile as a wafer;
And though I’ll have to grin and bear
I am not he who will inherit.
by Ray Romine Friday, December 14, 1951
Bumptious boys on Hallowe’en
Are worse than ghosts or witches;
At least, they do more damage,
The little sons-of-guns!
by Ray Romine Thursday, October 31, 1946
I shall hang some words together:
They may not exactly fit;
But if verse can sell a publisher ,
Why, that’s the most of it.
For, while I may think it’ s dreadful,
And you may decide it stinks,
Let us stifle our emotions:
It’s with cash the public thinks.
And the Bookstore clerk will gladly
All his own opinions smother,
As he holds his nose with one hand,
Making money with the other.
I shall hang some words together,
And regret them by-and-by;
But if they attract the shekels,
I shall not exactly cry.
by Ray Romine Tuesday, October 1, 1946
I find I am but little stirred
By a man who imitates a bird.
Much more impressive, who began
A bird, to end him up a man.
by Ray Romine Saturday, September 1, 1951
Now for our next great fight decision:
Who shall color Television.
by Ray Romine Friday, October 20, 1950