Category: Love

Daddy loves his little girl
Though he doesn’t always show it;
Every laugh and every curl,
Daddy loves his little girl.
He should teke, from this mad whirl,
Time to sometimes let you know it:
Daddy loves his little girl,
Though he doesn’t always show it.

by Ray Romine Sunday, February 6, 1944

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

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

The price of passion is great:
A Man’s whole life is the cost.
To roue or celibate
The price of passion is great.

For a moment, or life time, a mate
Can doom all he is to be lost;
The price of passion is great:
A Man’s whole life is the cost.

by Ray Romine Thursday, December 27, 1945

Last night I dreamed we parted, you and I.
It was so very real: yes, even to
The choked-unfeeling when I’d think of you,
And to the tears inside that left quite dry
These haunted eyes. And oh, how hard I’d try
To cover every sign friends might construe
As even slender hint that I was blue–
No smallest look , nor any slightest sigh.

A lifetime’s Hell I lived last night, throughout
This phantasy that brought me wide awake
And shaking, giving thanks we’re still a team,
And praying we can carry on without
A closer living knowledge of that ache!
(God grant I learned a lesson from my dream.)

(based on a real dream…)

by Ray Romine Sunday, February 20, 1944

Love seemed a friendly game at first–
So how was I to know
You would, when Fortune frowned a bit,
Broadcast it blow by blow?

And yet, your talking as you did
Should never be derided:
Until you downed it well with words,
My love was undecided!

by Ray Romine Friday, August 30, 1946

Of course I cried a little
When first we said goodbye;
It would have seemed less fitting
With eyes entirely dry.

But since, I’ve had the shudders!
With every girl I’ve kissed
I’ve paused in keen awareness
At what I might have missed…

by Ray Romine Wednesday, August 15, 1951

The silence of the star-pierced night
We almost touch here from our hill,
As wordlessly we watch time’s flight
Told by a clock it cannot kill.

The quiet is a wraith just seen,
Like barely viewed night flights of birds
With understanding stretched between,
Too perfect to be spoiled with words.

by Ray Romine Thursday, September 6, 1951

Goodbye, goodbye to old Romance–
I’ll never have another chance!

For, I find, I am growing old,
And even my ashes are getting cold.

He cannot pass for chic again
Who has a little girl of ten!

From making whoopee I’ve gone, instead,
To piling, at 9 pm, in bed;

Where once I danced, or enjoyed a spree,
A movie is high-life enough for me.

Juvenile parts he can play no more
Whose hair is turning a frosty hoar.

And still, when a shapely lass goes by,
My insides sizzle, and curl, and fry;

My ideas suddenly change
As basic atoms re-arrange.

Pardon ME , Toots–you think I could
Have one last fling?–Let’s MAKE IT GOOD!

by Ray Romine Thursday, September 12, 1946

He sends her flowers, candy;
He comes around; he phones,
For he who would move mountains
Must start with smallish stones.

by Ray Romine Monday, July 2, 1951