Work Type: Ray Romine Poems

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The Wind

The wind that sweeps across the city
Has a pensive note of pity
For the pale pathetic people gathered there;
And it sings its note of sorrow
With what gusto it can borrow,
Blowing dust and dirty paper everywhere.

Out beyond the city limits,
Chlorophyll and sunshine dim its
Blackness to a healthy living growing green;
And it breathes a note of cheer
Unashamed and soft and clear,
Unrestrained by man-made walls, rain-washed and clean.

We who listen to its ditty
Here beyond the sordid city
Where it sweeps the golden orange span of wheat
Know too, peace that comes with living
Where the clover heads are giving
Atmosphere, the touch of which makes life complete.

by Ray Romine Wednesday, September 12, 1951

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The Weatherman is a Bum

To wash the car is to make it rain,
An experiment well worth trying;
For it works, I’ve found–til the lawn has browned
And the garden is parched and drying.

Then, to spatter the car and torture the crops,
You’re eked out maybe fifteen drops.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, August 1, 1950

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The Theory Is Beautiful

Parents should provide small boys
With the more instructive toys:
Blocks and logs for little ones;
Later, tanks and planes and guns;
Power shovels, tractors, cranes,
Autos and electric trains,
Paints to splash and daub and gild;
Tool chests with which to build;
Hoes and rakes designed to harden
Any softness toward the garden.
Little boys, then, maybe wouldn’t
Get into the things they shouldn’t.
(Sounds nice, but who must be shown
Has a couple of his own!)

by Ray Romine Wednesday, October 24, 1951

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The Sun And The Rain

Over the lush and living land
The Sun and the Rain move hand in hand

Through rutted lane and bee-topped clover;
One retires while the other takes over.

Unlike in nature; still they find
Harmony of a different kind:

A little taking, and more of giving
Result in useful, gracious living,

The Rain approaches and feeds the brook,
While the Sun peeks through for a mirrored look.

And the Rain provides for the flower that dries,
While the Sun sets jewels in butterflies.

The Rain and the Sun passed here today,
An dropped off summer on their way!

by Ray Romine Friday, July 9, 1948

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The Species Is Contrary

At breakfast time a roll or two,
And toast and coffee nicely do;
I’m hardly ever one to munch
On candy bars to spoil my lunch
Which meal finds me once begun
The unenthusiastic one.
And does my home cooked dinner go
Toward cramming me with vittles? Nol
But when I douse my bedroom light
I have the darndest appetite.

by Ray Romine Sunday, August 8, 1954

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The Senders

A clear March night, and to me every star
Is sneaking in its Quiet, winking way.
The gates of Heaven have been left ajar
So each bright smiler might come out to play.
Resplendent, yes, but futile–is it like
The One who planned this universe to fail
To find a purpose for their nightly hike;
To let them blink like that to no avail?
I cannot Quite believe it, so I cast
About the sparkled meadow of the sky,
Convinced there is an answer; and, at last,
My patience is rewarded for its try:
They’re living dots and dashes, swift-sent Morse
To tell me that the spring is here–of course!

by Ray Romine Thursday, January 27, 1944