Category: Poems

Ray Romine Poems

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Group Sing

When they pass the sheets out
And I’m asked to shout
Songs I’ve not sung since in school, you
Kindly won’t rib
The tunes I ad lib–
Nor let my spry lip movement fool you.

by Ray Romine Monday, December 4, 1950

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Grounded Angel

You’re sitting at night on a vine-covered terrace
With a very nice portion of unmarried heiress
And the nerve to be bored, but the other eleven
Out of a dozen would think they’re in Heaven.

You ‘re fishing up north where the pines tower taller,
Throwing back eighteen-inchers and anything smaller,
And you wish you were home, while some hard-work evaders
Would lease their eye teeth just to be in your waders.

So, dear public, we differ, and what pleases one
Ia hardly the other guy’s notion of fun.
And I worry, for Heaven holds what for a guy
Who can’t twang a harp and who won’t learn to fly??

by Ray Romine Friday, July 21, 1950

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Grin and Pare It?

“Instead of restoring delivery cutbacks the Postoffice Department may have to curtail services even further.”
–News item

It’s almost enough to unnerve us,
And from paths of straight thinking swerve us,
When what’s cut to the core
They can whittle some more,
And still call the stuff “Postal SERVICE!”

by Ray Romine Friday, September 22, 1950

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Greener Grass

I envy those who sit and play
Piano as I would croquet.
Then my style’s copied, on the lawn,
By non-croqueters, later on.

I envy Roger, Herb and Joe
Their knack of stacking easy dough;
While they in turn make jealous cracks
About the way I can relax.

I envy all the folks who paint;
Who write; who golf; who sin; who saint;
Who swim; who dance; who skate; who fly–
And some of them wish they were I.

This definition’s not a bum one:
A talent’s what you envy someone.

by Ray Romine Sunday, July 9, 1950

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Green Sun

This August sun pours its relentless heat
As though it had some deadline it must meet,
Some rival sun it must somehow outshine,
Some record needing breaking. I incline,
However, to believe this sudden birth
Of energy, this vindictiveness toward earth
That saps our strength, depriving us of motion,
Is nothing more or less than an emotion:
King Hydrogen is jealous. All this fuss
About a man-made H-bomb-he’ll show us!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, March 30, 1954

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Greatest Marvel

I’d thought the time of miracles was past,
Considering each a sort of ruse, or wraith
Instead of what it was, a proof of faith–
A faith so strong it can and will outlast
An age in which we mortals see how fast
And careless we can be. How out of place
In such a world as ours a Christian face:
God made so few, then threw away the cast.
And yet, the mold He’s able to retrieve
To use to make a Christian out of him
Who has the will to turn, and Christ believe.
How could He greater marvel ever limn,
How could He ever grander feat achieve,
Than change the sinner to the seraphim?

by Ray Romine Wednesday, August 25, 1943

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Grandpappy Spears

Now my grandfather tells me thet long years ago,
In the old days when men, sir, WERE men,
How it snowed when it snew, and it blowed when it blew,
And no maybe, perhaps, if, or when!

When it started to snow, people holed up, and so
There remained for six months and a day;
For the snow got so deep that the alley and street
Were not found ’til the following May!

How the temperature dropped and it never got stopped—
–It’s a wonder it’s not going yet–
And when spring showed her nose, and it finally ‘rose
Up to zero, they started to sweat!

Now my grandad at figures was never much good–
Subtraction’s his chief mystery;
But where winter’s concerned, he can sure MULTIPLY
Just take it, dear reader, from me.

Grandpap told the truth once or twice in his life,
And it might be he’s telling it now;
But for sweet winter’s sake, I still think he could make
Ananias look foolish, and how!

by Ray Romine Saturday, September 10, 1938