POETRY

 

 

 

 

ON THE SQUARE

My Brother, in the Courtyard
Each one of us have stood
Outside the tyled Temple door
Awaiting as we should.

Take heed, thou young Apprentices
The Word emblazoned there:
To meet upon the level
And part upon the square.

My Brother, at the Altar
Each one of us has knelt
With solemn Oath and Brotherhood
The Mystic Tie we've felt.

Take heed, my Brother Fellowcraft
The Word emblazoned there:
To act upon the plumb
And part upon the Square.

My Brother, in the Temple
Each one of us were Raised
And on receiving further light
Into the Light we gazed.

Take heed, my Brothers, Masters all
The Word emblazoned there:
To Live within the compass
And part upon the Square.

 

 

 

 

Hiram in the brow of hill, eyes gone dry with weeping,
Sprig of green Acacia and life beyond the grave;
Lion's Paw and Master's Word teach death is but sleeping,
Soul in immortality, as water in a wave.

Carl H. Claudy

 

 

 

 

Each cloud-capped mountain at a holy alter;
An organ breathes on every Grove;
And the full heart's a Psalter,
Rich in deep hymns of gratitude and love.

Thomas Hood

 

 

 

 

And let these alters, wreathed with flowers
And piled with fruits, awake again
Thanksgivings for the golden hours,
The early and the latter rain!

Whittier

 

 

 

 

My new-cut ashlar takes the light
Whee crimson-blank the windows flare;
By my own work, before the night,
Great Overseer, I make my prayer.

Rudyard Kipling

 

 

 

 

PREACHER MAN'S BLUES

Well, I got me this congregation,
'bout to put me in the ground.
They won't pay their apportionments,
And its always bringin' me down.

They complain about the music,
And they complain about the choir.
The way they like to gripe and moan,
You'd think they was paid by the hour.

The Youth Groups full of hormones
and the Trustees don't do a thing.
The Ad. Council argues for four whole months
To let the Day-care buy a swing.

They won't read their Bibles,
And I can't get them to pray.
They all want to have everything just right
But nobody wants to pay.

If I go to one more meeting,
I think I'm gonna die.
When I look at the attendance figures,
I want to hang my head and cry.

Seems like they're having a contest
To see who can be best pain in the neck.
But everything seems a little better when
The treasurer gives me my check.

I got me this congregation,
And I think I'll call it mine.
Cause when I think of getting a real job,
All this starts to look pretty fine.

Blind Lynn Snider (Well, I do have rather strong glasses)

 

 

 

 

"OUR HEROES..."

The call came in, the dinner stopped,
They would not eat tonight.
When duty called they did not wait.
They'd hardly touched a bite.

An empty building was on fire,
It was a routine run.
Nothing to get excited about,
Knock it down and they'd be done.

But as the first responders arrived
They got disturbing news.
Homeless were known to live inside
Their help they'd not refuse.

As soon as they received the word
They did not hesitate.
They went inside, began the search
Never thinking of their fate.

Things turned bad in minutes.
The maze had trapped them fast.
"Mayday, Mayday" cracked o'er the air,
"The oxygen will not last."

Teams of men went swarming in,
To quickly aid their brothers.
Once again, they thought not of themselves
But as always, thought of others.

The flames, they spread with lightening speed,
The structure began to lurch.
As floors gave way beneath their feet,
The teams continued their search.

But the dreadful decision had to be made.
The danger was all around.
The teams would have to evacuate.
The alarm began to sound.

As the men came out and reported in,
It became painfully clear.
That four more men had not come out,
It filled everyone with fear.

As fire took over the building,
And flames licked the darkening night.
The men outside worked with resolve,
They would not give up the fight.

Despite their valiant efforts,
Tragedy struck with force.
As dawn arrived the fire still roared,
The news could not be worse.

Six brave men went into the flames,
With the thoughts of saving others.
No greater love can anyone show
Than to lay down his life for his brothers.

Our thanks can never be expressed.
Mere words cannot convey,
How much we wish that we could take
Their families' pain away.

Their comrades will not leave the scene
Without doing all they can,
To return these heroes to their loved ones,
They look tirelessly for each man.

With tears we face the knowledge
We have lost six of the best.
With Honor, Love and Dignity,
Let us wish them peace in their rest.

Written by Margaret McLean Kenworthy
Daughter of a retired Worcester Firefighter

 

 

 

 

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