Confucius said, so I have heard,
“A belt too short your loins won't gird.”
So, Neighbor, heed that advice
Then you won't have your belt to splice.
Drink carrot juice, not blended shakes,
Eat spinach, and quit baking cakes.
Remember please, that in your house
The dietitian is your spouse.
Trust that, when you sit down to dine
She takes a squint at your waist line;
For well knows she, it's hard to fetch
That surplus inch within a two-way stretch.
But don't you fret, as you well know
While now the earth is blanched with snow,
Ere long again you'll plant and sow
And when you work the ground that's hard
Old Sol's warm smile will melt that lard.
Dried up has my poetic spring.
May the last lines true to you ring.
There's to you and yours Neighbor dear,
Be healthy, be happy throughout the year.
January 21, 1951
Hail, hail to you Mother!
And from father to Philip the son!
Look how they smile at each other.
Who wouldn't, have three birthdays on one?
So be happy, sisters and brothers,
Your cousins, uncles and aunts,
Sons, daughters and all others,
You kiddies with ants in your pants!
Rise on this rarest occasion
To bring wishes with lots of good cheer
And give a rousing ovation,
To Grandma, God bless her, the dear!
Happy New Year!
Good bye to you, old Fifty-Six!
You left this earth in a fine fix.
Intending on good when you began,
Your temperament quite normal ran.
You dished out sparingly indeed,
The usual hash of snow, rain, and sleet
But when spring came, your temper rose,
And dormant life stuck out its nose.
Influenced now by demon speed
You rushed the season without heed.
The grass grew tall and much too fast,
Spring flowers bloomed, but did not last.
For days and nights your feverish heat
Did man and beast of their sleep cheat.
Then to quench your fever's thirst
You drenched the earth with a cloudburst.
The rain came down in solid sheets
To flood the land, the towns, the homes and streets.
It took restraint to keep one's temper cool
While cleaning down below that pool.
Your summer all will long remember
'Twas not much better than December.
Rain and more rain, and cool at best,
Disastrous storms in East and West.
No better did you treat the South
Where crops and beasts succumbed to drouth.
Despite of all these crushing troubles
Dame Politic came to blow her bubbles.
The Democrats sought to stun
The mind of voters with some pun;
While others went throughout the land
To squeeze votes from the farmer's hand
But Republicans could not be bluffed.
They would have Ike, alive or stuffed.
And thus it came, as meant to be,
Vox Populi, Vox Dei.
Will the news hounds stop their prattle
Meant the peoples' minds to rattle?
Will someone with some common sense
Stop that wrangling about defense?
Will we with good grace then accept
What is good from who is apt?
Will we gladly and not kick
Pay the tax for a Sputnik?
Happy New Year
Another year's gone o'er the brink
And left us earthworms in a kink.
The memories it left behind
Are of the most disheartening kind.
Disasters, crime, graft, and unrest,
Rebellions, close to war in East and West.
The cries for help from near and far,
With money short and below par.
To top it all with irony
Dame politics blared her symphony
To lure the thoughtless to a spree
Of “Come and get it; It's all free!”
The young are now in the driver’s seat.
They'll spare no gas to step up speed
To make this earth ball really roll,
And shear the sheep, to pay the toll.
O Tempora, O mores, brothers.
Keep us, God, from the sins of others.
But Mother Earth, aged countless score,
Who's seen all such and worse before,
Precisely keeps her steady pace,
is undisturbed by man's mad race.
Accordingly my crystal ball
Tells things won't be too bad at all.
Let's be contented, when we dine
With water, if we have no wine.
Of all the best I wish you most
May good health be your constant host.
Happy New Year 1959
Old Fifty-Eight you've walked the plank,
Not much you've left for us to thank!
The earth with wounds already covered,
Under your guidance still more suffered.
From tragedies, wrought by the elements
From hardship of man's base intents
From unrest, greed, and discontent
And labor strikes, wherever we went.
From accidents, disaster, and from crime
From politics of filth and slime
You did not show the least concern
For those who still their bread must earn.
And in an evil mood, you instead
Sent undeserved ones sick to bed.
You did behave well at the start,
But soon you dumped the apple cart.
But enough's enough of groans and whines,
Let's hope and pray that Fifty-Nine
Will spread peace, health, and days' bright sunshine.
Good bye 1959
Good bye to you, old Fifty-Nine.
Can't say you were a friend of mine.
You rushed in with excessive speed
And dumped your load of snow and sleet.
For safety you did not care.
Slicked everything with icy glare.
Much better had we hoped from you. In vain
You spread disasters, death, and pain,
Unrest and strikes with violence
And greater taxes for defense.
You fed the fires of the greedy,
But you forgot the mass of needy.
There would not have been any spring
Had it not beef for Sol, the King.
He saw your mess, turned on the heat
And soon the ground was clean and neat.
Which proves again that evil deeds
Cannot survive when kindness leads.
The rosy fact still does remain
That there are folks with hearts humane,
Who whare their time and their good will
To guard and comfort the lonely and ill.
God bless you and bring you all good cheer
With best of healt throughout the year.
Woodbee Rimer
Birthday Wishes
This wish to you today I bring
Is that you'll hear the angels sing
With love and joy from their domain
To you, that blessed old refrain
Happy Birthday dear friend;
May your joys never end.
Neighbors
Has one to live four scores and seven
To meet with angels, not from heaven?
Yes, it's a fact, and what is more
Their blessed home is near, next door.
No halo shines above their head
As quietly good deeds they spread.
Their wings of love and of good will
Protected well the lonely ill.
“O gracious Lord, here and above,
Bless them with thine Eternal Love!”
Woodbee Rimer, 1959
A Thank You to the Johansons (Elmer and Elaine)
My friends, I say, and it is not a gag,
I got a kick out of that candy bag.
I followed its suggestions close
Blew into it with mouth and nose.
Kept on to blow for quite a spell,
But still the darn thing wouldn't swell.
I blew and blew, but all in vain
'Til tears streamed down my cheeks like rain.
I 'most gave up, much in disgust,
But yet I felt, succeed I must.
I swelled my chest and blew a blast,
My body shivered, then at last
A ripping bang of wind. I felt a gust.
It seemed at last that bag had bit the dust.
But friends, 'twas not the bag as I had trusted,
It was my trousers seat that busted!
Woodbee Rimer, 1957
What matter years, they all had their beginning
And ere we knew, they reached their end.
What matters more is in the winning
And the possessing of a friend.
O Weatherman what have you done
With snow and ice and sun?
Where is Jack Frost, your lazy knave
Who has not produced one good cold wave?
What's your grudge 'gainst man and beast
If you're confused, you might at least
Obey the rules of Mother Nature's laws
And leave the teeth in Winter's jaws.
To a neighbor with a June birthday
June made a gift to January;
Now doesn't that seem quite contrary?
For June is young so warm and sweet
As its flowers in the sunshine, yest indeed.
While January, mostly gray and cold
Spreads snow and ice and sufferings untold.
Always with kindness in its heart,
June wished some sunshine to impart
To January on some special day,
That it too would be bright and gay.
And thus June's kind emotions drift
Made January happy with its gift.
Golden Wedding Anniversary
Lord, we thank thee
for your guidance
and the blessings
which you have
bestowed upon us
during the past fifty years.
We also thank thee
for the privilege
of being able to enjoy this occasion
in health and
in the company
of kin and friends
all of whom have
heaped upon us
a surplus of luxurious
tokens of love and friendship.
Bless them all, Lord, with
health and happiness
and let us all in view
of all this bounty before us
give a thought to those who are
less fortunate than we. Amen
Oh, Lord!
Believe in thee we do profess
And think of thee, but in distress!
This day long since was set apart
By man whose heart with stress did smart
Who stopped to thank, with heads a-bow,
For food, not plentiful as now.
Before you stands a laden plate
Be thankful and be temperate
Remember the less fortunate!
Armin's Birthday
Novembers come, Novembers go
They pass so fast, before you know
They've lined up in a double row.
Each year your stature has increased
And rounded out, to say the least.
Your willing hands, to help inclined
The others, yield not much in kind,
For your own problems you must grope
With their solution you must cope.
But cheer up son, there is still hope.
You've not yet reached the end of your rope.
Naught can offer but their advice.
Early to bed and early to rise.
Be happy, be lucky, be healthy
On your birthday today.
Another New Year
Once more a year is rounded up
With bittersweet was filled its cup.
It brought some good, but more of harm.
The elements, it could not charm.
For sun and wind and cousin rain
Descended in a wild campaign
To settle in a fierce contest
Which could be worse, when at its best.
The winter passed with little snow.
No zero temper or below.
The wind his force did well restrain
Sparkling beauty wrought freezing rain.
In spring the three were very kind.
They urged the Earth that she remind
The sleeping things within her care
That it was time to work once more.
All suddenly burst forth in haste
As if they had no time to waste
To clothe old Mother Earth in gay
In glorious garments that last May
'Twas summertime, the three had set
To carry on their horrid bet
Old Sol for days his furnace packed
Under its heat earth dried and cracked.
The wells went dry, the lakes grew shallow
The grass and all the greens got yellow.
And many folks passed out of town.
Grass carpets green had turned to brown.
On rushed the wind, great was it wrath
Destroying all within its path
And as in fury over the land it rushed
Fields, woods, and towns his twisters crushed.
The rain in clouds sought its refuge
Came down in torrents to deluge
The parched earth and dry river beds
And drenched the hills and watersheds.
The water rose beyond flood stage
And broke man's bandage in its rage
Unleashed its fury uncontrolled
Death and desolation, sadly told.
But at the dawn of Fifty-Four
Earth's restless man begins once more
His daily task to toil and strive
To let the best in him survive.
Gift
It is for you, and you alone
Of mammon just a blink.
Use it when hectic days are gone
To buy yourself a “trink”.
This tiny bit, you must not share.
'T is just for you, precisely
When you're relaxed and free of care,
For you, you'll spend it wisely.
A gift of love, a small amount
But added to your bank account
'T will tend the wolf to banish
And make your worries vanish.
It is not much of money
Yet it will buy some honey
But take to heart this good advice
Don't eat it while you slenderize.
Here is a little you should spend
Just on yourself, as you intend.
A bit of love and faith we prize
More than a gift of mammoth size.
Take hence this lucre for your chore
It's meager, but there is no more,
And be mindful, as you grow old
Virtues are seldom fed with gold.
America's Pastime
Then there are those who oft intone
A talk fest at the telephone
And those who with tobacco smoke
Cause sinus troubled ones to choke
Then those who late into the night
Argue about the Infinite,
Lesser, more harmless of them all
Are those who love the game of ball.
In rain or shine, from spring to fall
Their soul's enraptured with baseball.
They care not what's around the bend
Or if the world at once should end
This moral then to one and all
If one must even mildly sin, PLAY BALL!
Grandpa's Patent:
Balmane
In water pure dissolved,
this is Balmane
In qualities it rivals
any spa of fame
When pep and zest are allowed ebb,
with migraine you're obsessed
All due to careless
habits or perhaps
You have excessed.
When tongue is coated
stomach sour and bowels filled with gas
The head with headache is splitting, and a face
to break the looking glass
Then it is time to mend
your ways and imbibe without scorn
A glassful Balmane
Whenever you rise at noon
or in the morn
Its taste you'll find is
not as sweet as candy
But it will clean your
system and make you
feel just fine and dandy.
Good-Bye to 1954
Hey there, old codger fifty four
Your services we need no more,
Go sit down with the forty fives
'Tho, like a cat, you had nine extra lives
To the forty fives as well we know
A hardened path will be their row.
While science hopes by probes and strife
To lengthen man's terrestrial life.
Is there some good we have collected
in fifty-four as we expected?
Did we to someone then in need
Perform a worthwhile, kindly deed?
Old Mother Nature, much annoyed
By man who with the atoms toyed.
To prove that man's world is inane
Unleashed some female hurricane.
Then, as to quench your fever's thirst
You drenched the earth with a cloudburst.
The rain came down in solid sheets
To flood the land, the towns, the homes, and streets.
It took restrain to keep one's temper cool
While cleaning down below that swimming pool.
Your summer all will long remember
'T was not much better than December.
Rain and more rain, and cool at best,
Disastrous storms in East and West:
No better did you treat the South
Where crops and beasts succumbed to drouth.
Will the news hounds top their prattle
Aimed the peoples' mind to rattle?
Will someone with common sense
Stop that wrangling 'bout defense?
Will we with good grace acccept
What is good from foe respect?
Will we gladly and not kick
And pay the tax for our own Sputnik?
Despite all these crushing troubles
Dame politic came to blow bubbles.
The demociples sought to stain
The mind of others with some pain,
While others went throughout the land
To squeeze votes from the framers's hand
But the publicans could not be bluffed.
They would have Ike, alive or stuffed.
And thus it came, as meant to be:
Vox populi, vox Dei.
On the Occasion of Phyllis's Third Birthday
Even good girls have their worry
Sometimes they are in a hurry
But when asked, they answer with a smile.
No, I don't, but after awhile.
With pocketbook quite loaded up
She visits store and shop
And packs her grip for goodness sake
For a trip out to the lake.
Now to all girls who are so nice
Just let me put you wise.
There comes a day in every year
That brings reward and cheer.
This is her day of joy and glee
With cake and candles three
and presents, flowers, folks come to see
and join the jubilee.
Some day, quite silly this may seem.
A happy, happy birthday, Phyllis Jean.
Grace Before Meal
One moment let us hesitate
Before the host fills up our plate
That in the silence of this spell
We thank the Lord that all is well.
And grateful all of us born nude
For shelter, clothing, and for food.
Who would ask more, O God, relieve
The misery of those who grieve.
Those homeless, starving, and in pain
The crippled, sightless, and insane
And give a thought to those indeed
Who died for cause of of power and greed.
Just one more thought before we eat
To those to whom we owe this treat
God bless the hands whose care ad skill
To David, 1945
Just listen to those robins sing!
So merrily and full of joy.
And every single note, my boy,
Says it is spring, yes glorious spring.
The crocuses and daffodils
Hepaticas and Trilliums,
Are clad in bright colored costumes
To welcome spring, on dales and hills.
The bald lawn has grown new green hair
On shrubs and trees young leaves appear
Lilac and cherry blooms are here,
Yes spring is here; it's in the air!
The bees and flies and other bugs
Are busy at their task, indeed,
To carry pollen for new seed
To plants, which grow them
In their shucks.
That wiggly earthworm do not shrink
From work, are visible all around
They perforate the hardened ground,
That growing plants may get a drink.
And little girls and little boys
Are sprouts of man in his life's spring
Unfurling while they play and sing
Leaves, not yet scored with grieves and joys.
When someone is born in the spring,
When April fourteenth is the day
His friends will call or write and say:
"God bless you dear," and then they all sing:
Happy birthday to thee
Two and one do make three,
And today you add one year more
Now dear David is four.
--Goo-Goo
