THE POET'S CORNER
The Crystal Lady 's Poet Corner
Poems About America
By Joan Estelle High
© Jan 2004
There is beauty in a green and silvery willow tree
As it waves it's leafy arms , just longing to be free.
Beauty is an azure sky of blue smiling down on me.
With it's clouds of marshmallows sailing out to sea.
Beauty is a tiny violet that is wet with drops of dew.
That lies nestled just beyond my little baby's reach.
My baby is lovely as a rose bud in my open hand.
And she is sweet and tender as a Georgia peach.
Beauty is the American flag that the breeze unfurls.
It's blowing out across a free and prosperous land.
This long time symbol that means to me the world.
Of purple mountains majesty and beaches golden sand.
Beauty can be a fragile gift you hold within your hand.
Or be a trout stream unpolluted by the hand of man.
The farm pond where you went skinny dipping as a kid.
The cool green forest where you played as a rabbit hid.
Beauty is all these things and it can be so much more.
The Universe's plan to feed your hungry soul and mine.
From New York in the East to the California's shore.
From Washington's apple trees to Texas's mighty pine.
The only solace of the poor and a joy to all mankind.
The Woods At The Lake
By Joan Estelle High
When I sit here and quietly contemplate
The beauty of this wooded place.
The green is healing yet it does simulate,
And all the wildflowers wear a familiar face.
The sky of blues with clouds softly white.
The green trees that seem to guard the shore.
The scrapes of civilization floating slowly by.
Float with dead fish that will swim no more.
Mankind's refuse from a thousand years.
Washed a shore by a thousand tears.
The sun must hurry, it has no time to wait.
For with the silver moon it has made a date.
It trails along ribbons like streams of light.
And hurries to welcome in the cool dark night.
Arkansas Is Home To Me
By Joan Estelle High
There is more to Arkansas than it's rivers, lakes and streams.
People there have made it great with their hopes and dreams.
It is a humpty dumpty, hilly place with roller coaster roads.
It is black bears, turkey shoots and places named for toads.
Folks here don't have much money, but they have lots of fun.
A man finds contentment with a pick-up, coon dog and a gun.
It is not all rural cabins and wood shanties on top of the hill.
It's not necessary cow paddies or making moonshine in a still.
It is said that they grow a little hemp high up here in the Ozark.
But where else could you find some yellow diamonds in a park.
So Arkansas weather is often quirky and the winters are a pain.
When God was handing out ticks and bugs it got in line again.
The yellow clover in the Spring time is always so very pretty.
But if you should get a little bored , you can head into the city.
The night sky above is jet black with stars that seem to gleam.
They're like fairy diamonds in the sky and how close they seem.
I would guess there is no other place that I would rather be.
For Arkansas has become the home to lots of folks like me.
The Van Buren County Fair
By Joan Estelle High
© January 2000
In Van Buren County, Arkansas, they had a fair last week.
So I went up to the fair ground just to take myself a peek.
I took my camera along and got some interesting pictures.
I shot at everything in sight both people and the fixtures.
A dedicated group of people called the Fair Committee,
Who know to lose this way of life would really be a pity.
They don't really mind if they have to work a little hard.
They are not couch potatoes sitting around on their lard.
Unsung heroes working long hours at a often thankless task.
Laying foundations for the future as they preserve the past.
Several generation of people who still love a county fair.
Families spending time together building memories to share.
Tiny Tot Pageants, little sweethearts from the county wide.
Proud kinfolks in the audiences clap and beam with pride.
A loving mother brushes her daughter's hair shinny clean,
The child stands passive beneath her hands, quietly serene.
Young girls nervous and giggly on the verge of womanhood.
Then oh so sophisticated, know that they are looking good.
Standing around backstage waiting anxiously for their call.
For one brief moment feeling just like Cinderella at the ball.
Little cowgirls and their little dudes, sitting tall as they ride.
Their proud mothers or fathers walking at the horses side.
Lots of smiles, lots of tears, they made the riding course.
Well behaved little children and a bad behaved little horse.
The parade was great fun, we saw it coming up the street.
Who ever put the show together sure gave us quite a treat.
Pretty ladies riding on a car, blowing kisses to the crowd.
A Dalmatian in a fire truck and an American Flag so proud.
Next the children gave us a talent show outside in a big tent.
Delighted the crowd with their energy not charging a red cent.
Stopped at the Exhibition hall, the shelves were a little bare.
I wondered why more people didn't take the time to share.
For those who did , sure had made some interesting things.
They must have the satisfaction that a job well done brings.
So here is my thought, I would like to leave with you today.
This time next year, should you hear, that the fair is underway.
Take time to bake some bread or make a cover for your bed.
You have a year to piece a quilt, or make a tots dress of silk.
You could paint a picture or a post, or help to raise a calf.
Grow a Jack-O-Lantern and carve his face to make us laugh.
by Joan Estelle High
If you ever come to Texas there
is a place you really need to go.
It's called "First Monday", down in Canton they put on quite a show.
People come from miles around and even from many other states.
Converging on this small East Texas town on these particular dates
Peddlers come and bring their goods to trade and hopefully to sell
And if you can't find what you want, then it just "ain't this side of Hell"
They come in modern covered wagons, with campers big and tall.
Some folks seem to have lots of money and some have none at all.
They sit up shop in their dirt
covered spaces, or in mini malls that abound.
Spread out on make shift tables or tools spread on a tarp upon the ground .
A thing they have in common, a though they share is the urge to make a buck.
Hoping that the things they sell today, will somehow bring them a little luck.
Beat up old pickup trucks pulling beat-up trailers with rusty tail gates.
People walking their magnificent dog, while some dogs ride in crates.
Men pass by carrying chickens home in those recycled orange net bags.
The man selling fruit at his stand has his space draped in Confederate flags.
Tall blond cowgirls in tight
jeans and boots know how to strut their stuff.
While young men in their twenties, try to look like they are rough and tough.
Fat round women tie sweaters around their waist, I guess to hide their butts,
While really fat men, let it all hang out in plain sight, showing off their guts.
Grandma and Grandpa find it too hard to walk as there is so much to see.
So they rent them self some little carts and they travel much more easily.
Finding your self a potty can be a problem as they are few and far between.
And when you find one, there is a long line and you won't find it very clean.
But if you are into people watching and
you do have some time to dally,
find your self a comfortable chair in a place that is known as "Dog Alley"
Watch the parade as it goes walking by, as it is interesting as it can be.
Cute puppies by the dozens, animals coming by, in nature's wide variety
Make sure you find some cool shade and a cold drink for your hand.
Because even it is cloudy, the Texas sun shines down upon this land.
For the sun but will quickly bake your hide like unto a crispy fritter.
And it won't have any mercy on you, be you woman, man or critter.
Story of New Orleans
by Joan Estelle High
Water, water every where but not a drop
Nothing left fit to eat, Food all spoiled in this heat.
I will probably die right here, is all that I can think.
Is there any body left , I canít even see the street .
I sit on top my roof with the hot sun beating down.
I donít know how long I will have to be here alone ,
or just how long it will be before I too will drown.
I hear the neighbor lady crying and I hear her moan.
In the water I see dead people floating by, face down.
Coke bottles, loaves of bread float from the corner store
I can see sharks swimming by and alligators abound .
I wonder if anything ever be back to normal any more.
I have seen some military helicopters flying over head
But they do not see me or answer my frantic wave.
I feel my life slowing running out, know soon Iíll die.
I am scared to know I too might face a watery grave.
It is sad to realize that every thing I had is now gone,
I have lost my home , my car , my job, and my life.
Some of these I can replace someday, some how,
But I have also lost forever my most precious wife.
It may be true she and I never had quite enough money,
And sometimes our life was a struggle to just survive.
Even if we worked hard , we always stayed together,
We did some how always managed to stay alive.
My wife knew I would try to take good care of her,
She counted on me to do the best that I knew how.
But some how I let her go and slip away from me,
When Hurricane Katrina's winds began to howl.
The ugly flood waters pulled her from my grasp,
The waters spilled out so violently from the lake.
But I will miss her,. love her and think of her ,
until the very last breaths that I shall ever take
I wish I could have told her that I loved her,
one more time and said out last good by.
I wish I could have held her safe and tight
Maybe it was just her appointed time to die.
The very last thing she ever said to me ,
was " Be sure and take care of the family "
then she was gone, she floated out of sight.
Now the damp darkness surrounds me
and I can but shiver in the chilly night.
The storm clouds have finally gone their
I look up at the heavens, I see stars so bright.
I believe help will surely come for me tomorrow
If I just hold on and make it though the night
I believe that as long as the stars stay in place
Then my God must still be on His throne..
Some how that thought seems to comfort me,
and I know in my heart that I am not alone.
Back to Poet's Corner