Author: Ray Romine

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To Friends In Florida

Would it be too much to ask
From you, as in sun you bask,
That you do not try too hard
With the picture postal card?

Since you must, though, I will thank
Who leaves “Space for Message” blank,
For I do, I do declare,
Wish ALREADY I were there.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, February 13, 1951

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To Florence

There’s some beauty always near.
If I am awake at all,
And I look, then never fear,
There’s some beauty always near.
There’re the flowers; there’s you, dear:
They in summer–you in fall.
There’s some beauty always near,
If I am awake at all.

by Ray Romine Sunday, February 6, 1944

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To C. N. Sautter, Upon His Retirement

There comes a time when we retire-
‘Tis your turn now, Sir Sautter ,
You’ll have a bit of leisure now;
Or, if you don’t, you oughtter.

So, take the time to read that book,
And fish, and hunt, and tinker;
And maybe find a few mushrooms;
Or emulate “The thinker”.*

You may eat onions now each noon,
And garlic; too, for dinner;
It’s been the outer man these years–
Now, satisfy the inner!

But, seriously, O Cloyd, we hope
(Give us your close attention).
You’ll stick around for years and years
To draw that HARD-EARNED PENSION!

* We wrote this “THinker” – if it’s any different
now, blame the printer!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, November 16, 1943

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To Autumn

Poets are working overtime
With rhymes ’bout autumn’s breezes;
But I am thinking just how near
Is winter and its sneezes.

This fall season’s costing me money, I fear
And that’s a long, long ways from nice.
For it’s too cool to be without coal, don’t you see
And too warm to do without ice.

Oh, September’s here and the bittersweet’s yellow
And that may mean nothing to you, my dear fellow;
But if you were wed and your wife nuts about it,
You’d go forth for hours and then come back without it!
(Optional:)
And that’s not the worst thing, and believe me, I mean it–
If you do find it, wifey dear thinks you should clean it!

by Ray Romine Friday, September 7, 1934

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To A Young Lady Who Feels inferior

The winter’s sun, seen briefly
When all’s been clouds for days,
Has a glory he can’t equal
With all of summer’s blaze.

You cry. You aren’t perfect.
Be glad, my darling, for
It makes each flash of genius
Appreciated more!

by Ray Romine Wednesday, January 8, 1947

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To A Wife And Daughter Who Love The Snow

Snow–
The fluff that oozed to earth all night,
You drool at O-the-wondrous sight;
Well, you can have, for all I care,
Your parts of it, and my own share.
To me; it is a fright in white,
A pestilence, a noxious blight;
And I yell boo and I yell bah
To Sandra and her sleek mama.
You gals the stuff you claim to love,
Yet I’m the guy who’ll have to shove
It off the walks, and if I lift
A ton or two, there, in some drift,
I may uncover and dislodge
The car that’s stuck in our garage;
Meanwhile discov’ring muscles that
Should only deck an acrobat–
That is, I mean, and to my sorrow,
That I will find ’em on the morrow.

Snow–
A stuff with no redeeming grace
Except its beauty on the face;
Ah yes, its brilliance leaves me mute
For half a day, and then the soot
And snow will melt and split and splice,
And we’ll have slush and we’ll have ice.
The moisture makes the wheat grow better,
But rain is also wet, or wetter.
If snow will grow our groceries vaster,
Wouldn’t rain avoid disaster faster?
And should it fall upon my grave,
I’ll turn me over, curse and rave–
Come to think, though, where I’LL be
Snow may LISTEN GOOD TO ME!

However–
It sums up my philosophy–
That every WORTHLESS THING is FREE!!

Fin. 2-13-44
(10°below out front this
morning …. )

by Ray Romine Saturday, February 12, 1944

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To A Lock of Hair

A lock of hair for them to find
When I’ll have perished;
But they will pay a never-mind
To what I’ve cherished.

So, fragile curl, be not dismayed,
For we will walk together down the grade;
And on that day I leave this sand-hill blown by strife
I shall bless the curl of her who might have shared
my life.

by Ray Romine Sunday, January 7, 1945