Selections from Trella Romine's library at Terradise Nature Center
Ray Romine Poems
Please note his perfect posture;
The careful way he stands.
He’s almost all attention,
And rigid are his hands.
He sniffs the air alertly–
Is THIS my rowdy scoffer?
But yes–his TV program
Is making some new offer.
by Ray Romine Saturday, May 24, 1952
Sister wants a drumstick;
Daddy likes a thigh;
Mother picks white meat;
But I still sigh.
For the part of him that I liked
Is no longer there:
I can’t find his gobble
Anywhere!
by Ray Romine Saturday, June 5, 1954
That we may be thankful, a day set apart
That each may examine his owm inner heart;
A time to be thankful for good things to eat,
For clothes to keep warm and for shoes on our feet,
For dreams that we dream that may never come true.
Dear God, I am thankful above all for you.
by Ray Romine Saturday, June 5, 1954
Our thanks to Thee for what we have and hold,
For every blessing sent us in the past:
For shelter when the wind was over-bold;
For sustenance that kept us safe from fast;
For friendship’s touch; for childhood’s joys; for health;
For eyes to see the heaven-painted dawn,
And Nature’s many sides–the poor man’s wealth–
From virgin sun-flecked glade to well-kept lawn.
Our thanks for this, our Nation, and our Flag
Proclaiming bravely “Equal Rights for All!”
And should one footstep falter, should one spirit sag,
Let him go back a way, help him recall
The lad, who, six feet under foreign sod,
Has dared to do, that we might thank his God.
by Ray Romine Saturday, October 6, 1945
This year, the Joneses pause for thanks
With heads bowed low in pious ranks;
They’re glad their dinner’s what it am-
The Joneses have a can of Spam!
The Epsteins, they are thankful too–
They changed the day to red from blue
By finding, on the day Ma cleans,
An ancient can of pork-and-beans!
And so it goes: Thanksgivinp Day
Will find you saying it ain’t hay
To fall upon, with joyful whoop,
One smallish lonesome can of soup.
If one is poor, or has a bankful,
There’s occasion to be thankful–
Let every woman, child and man
Esteem and thank the lowly can!
by Ray Romine Thursday, October 10, 1946
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
Thankful for our country;
Thankful for our home;
Thankful for the sun that lights
The sky’s blue dome.
Thankful for grass that greens
The river’s soft banks;
Thankful there is a day
For us to say Thanks.
by Ray Romine Saturday, June 5, 1954
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
What makes a poem great, or even good?
Technique? Its rhymed perfection? Length of line?
Its stanza pattern? Rhythm? –All these should
Be checked and double-checked in our design
Of course But these are quickly learned: What then?
Our answer is in every reader’s face
Who takes on eagerly a specimen,
But , frowning , drops the poem in its place
In favor of another. Now, he feels
A quiet thrill that works along his spine:
“This one was written for me. It reveals
My very soul- – I call this poem mine.”
To us, no matter how the critics rate
Our poem, if one reader thinks it greet!
by Ray Romine Friday, February 18, 1944
Whatever the world may make of him,
I place among the strong
The man who grins at me and says,
“Could be that I was wrong.”
by Ray Romine *bad date*, N/A