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Inspired By Dick H., Bud E. & Co.

From our earliest boyhood to our latter days,
There’s a hero that we’ve always wanted to praise;
No poet we know of has ever, to date,
Tossed him the roses we think he should rate–

It’s the John Doe the most of us leave in the lurch:
The fellow who’s always, on Sundays, in Church.
He always is present at Sunday School, too,
And throughout the week he finds God’s work to do.

We personally go (and you maybe do, too)
When the mood is upon us: we’ve nothing to do;
But we wonder sometimes as our way home we wend,
Who keeps the Old Church there for us to ettend??

When we miss Church for months, or a half year, perhaps,
Who sees it’ll be there throughout our relapse?
We take it for granted: we come back once more,
And it still has a carpet, a preacher, a door.

That fellow we spoke of, he’s there in his place
With a big smile of welcome all over his face.
The way that he greets us we’ve never been gone;
We’re a little bit shamefaced–he never lets on.

By no slightest hint doee he show it’s been he
Who’s ventured and striven for him and for me;
You’d never suspect it’s through efforts of his
That the whole organization’s today where it is.

He’s spent hours on Committees we can’t do without,
And slaved behind scenes that we don’t know about;
He’s helped out the young folks by pushing their League,
And worked, without pay, to the point of fatigue.

So let’s hail the fellow who’s faithful to Church–
In our Hall of Fame he can claim his own perch:
Who personally sees that our Church is still there
Carries his end, and ours, of a cross we should share.

And if you encounter a poet you know,
Have him knock out a stanza a-lauding John Doe–
Or better, let’s SHOW John what we think he’s worth:
Attend Church, and help with God’s Kingdom on Earth!

by Ray Romine Saturday, October 3, 1942

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Inspiration?

When I watch funny folk who strut and preen
Their madcap way across our TV screen
With jokes that Noah left upon the ark;
Who mug; who imitate; who howl; who bark–
I sometimes think they’re justified–don’t you?–
When children think THEY’RE pretty funny too!

by Ray Romine Monday, November 17, 1952

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Inspiration

Pin-points of light that flash a message from
Star matter out remote light-years from me
Lift me from out myself till I become
One with unthinkable infinity.

by Ray Romine Monday, February 1, 1954

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Insincere, Mostly

Ah, comes the spring
When birds are nesting,
And father’s done
With winter resting.
He’ll wrestle awnings,
No holds barred;
He’ll hang the screens,
Clean up the yard,
And paint the porch,
And trim the trees,
And wish with every
Balmy breeze
Himself unmarried,
Free to sit–
And never mean
A word of it!

by Ray Romine Saturday, October 14, 1950

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Insect Lesson

I found, this summer past, here where I stand,
The dainty creature called the bella moth–
Its pink and yellow living contraband
Contrasted with the season’s greening sloth.
Where is it now? This fragile, too-weak thing
Is gifted with a spirit which belies
Its frail appearance, outmanoeuvreing
Our mighty winter many times its size.
For in some icy nook that spirit lives
And sleeps its pupal life below the sod,
Secure, until the summer’s coming gives
It happy life among the goldenrod.
Man’s spirit, too, is first and always free,
And will, in time, emerge triumphantly.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, April 11, 1944

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Inferior Decorator

The walls -well, now, I couldn’t say:
Blue or green or pink or gray?
By mixing, plus the salesman’s hints
You can get a thousand tints.
And draperies–this isn’t news–
Are difficult for me to choose.
It Is very hard to know just what
Would go well with the stuff we’ve got.
Deciding’s nasty; yet, my dear,
It might postpone this one more yearJ

by Ray Romine Sunday, September 21, 1952