Category: Poems

Ray Romine Poems

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Spectrum

The red, hot sunset of July;
The gray of winter’s dawning;
The scared pure white the fearful high
Crest of the wave is spawning;

The green along the river’s bank
That dares the water’s blueness;
The silver of a blazing star
High in black midnight’s newness;

The polished face of autumn’s gold;
The purple of the aster–
The world’s a warm, effective bold
Painting by the Master.

And man is that two-legged crab
Who criticizes it as “drab” …

by Ray Romine Monday, February 26, 1951

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Spectator

I’ll watch a power-shovel dig
For hours on end, and not grow weary;
I find the vision of a rig
Drilling wells is never dreary.

I love to see a plumber plumb,
A tinner tin, a sailor sail;
Or let me watch a drummer drum,
Or even some good bailiff bail.

I thrill to see a lineman climb–
All this, I’m sure, is indicating
That when it comes to labor, I’m
The type who’s non-participating.

by Ray Romine Saturday, February 23, 1952

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Species Unknown

The copperheads weaved round and stared,
Reposing on their stump-beds.
Why should they not? What snakes have scared
A finer bunch of lunk-heads?

by Ray Romine Tuesday, September 24, 1946

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Spattered On The Outside, Starving On The Inside

As Junior stirs his Baby-food,
And splashes in his milk,
I think he isn’t understood
By Parents and their ilk,

For he will eat his safety-pins,
And munch upon the rug
Or toys designed for making dins,
Or gulp some deadly drug.

He won’t devour the things he should,
But eats what he can catch–
If we would HIDE his food, he could
Get something down his hatch.

by Ray Romine Friday, September 20, 1946