Above:  The Original Text

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AUTHOR’S COMMENT:

I looked up at the sky tonight and thought of “islands of night sky.”  So I wrote the prompt down and let it develop into a concise form.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

DECEMBER 11, 2013 COMMON ERA

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Islands of night sky

populate the ocean of clouds

above my head

on a cold night.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

DECEMBER 11, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  Chalfont Drive, Athens, Georgia, December 8, 2013

Image Source = Kenneth Randolph Taylor

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On a cold, wet, and gray day,

after having attended church and

consumed the body and blood of Christ,

there did commence, I am glad to say,

a quiet, studious time, one easy to stand,

but indoors, which, I do surmise,

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was proper, given the weather.

It was a time to study and to grade,

as well as to make family history

inquiries.  These quiet behaviors

near lamps were for today made,

given the outdoor cold, wet, gray misery.

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It was an indoor kind of day

on which to do little–and that

at a leisurely pace–and to consume

caffeine and well-lit to stay,

for such weather affects me bad-

ly; outside felt like doom.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

DECEMBER 8, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  The Beginning of the Draft of This Poem

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On a December morning,

I pull into the parking lot

of an auto parts store,

in search of ice scrapers.

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Inevitable is my noticing,

next to that spot,

where, for a month in 2010, I did score

high school graduation papers.

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It was a brief employment fling,

something which I got

to supplement my teaching pay, for

I thought I’d like to grade more papers.

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Instead, I wound up learning

that the part-time job did not

satisfy me, and even bothered me sore-

ly; the task I came to curse.

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It seems that my scoring

proved too strict.  I got

no invitation for an encore,

for my standards I did not reverse.

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That ended three years and a month

ago, and I am still in town.

When I was a child, seldom did I remain

anywhere longer than three years,

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so my tenure in Athens doth stunneth

me; I smile, not frown.

Moving so often was a great pain,

one which engendered terrible fears

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within me.  My blessings of stability runneth

over; I welcome familiar sights and sounds

from three or more years past.  The main

thing is that they are around here.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

DECEMBER 3, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  Chalfont Drive, Athens-Clarke County, December 3, 2013

Image Source = Kenneth Randolph Taylor

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On a late afternoon

in early December,

rain falls, uttering

“pitter, patter,”

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hoping, perhaps, that I will swoon

and not, as I collect the mail, shiver,

in the wet and the temperatures cooling,

then return home, water splatter-

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ing until, quite soon,

my home I re-enter,

mail delivering

into dry shelter.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

DECEMBER 3, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  A View in Athens-Clarke County, November 16, 2013

Photograph by Kenneth Randolph Taylor

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On a Saturday morning, as I sit

and work on hobbies at a pace

quite leisurely, I want only to get

more such time, for it is a grace.

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I look out a window and see

a sleepy neighborhood, with only a few

automobiles passing by; easy should be

a walk, if that is what I choose to do.

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But now I am content to remain indoors,

quietly, doing very little quite slowly.

Doing this will not make me bored.

No, I will do it quite gratefully.

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For excessive activity is not a virtue.

No, it is a curse.  And, if one a life

balanced seeks to lead, it is true,

one must strike a balance most nice.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

NOVEMBER 16, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  A View in Athens, Georgia, November 8, 2013

Photograph by Kenneth Randolph Taylor

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Leaves litter the asphalt of the parking

spaces as a golden glow does shine

as the sun approaches its setting

once more on this day most fine.

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Many trees their colors have turned,

displaying gorgeous golden-hued leaves.

The sight of them is a grace unearned,

a wonder which mighty God weaves.

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Other trees have yet to complete this change,

so future joys of nature remain in store.

Such manifold pleasures will truly range

a variety of shades and augment the lore

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of this season this year, prompting

us to recall it fondly after it has

passed.  Then the wonder of this thing

will gladden our hearts until, at last,

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the seasons turn once again to this

cooler time and nature’s encore

of autumnal splendor does us kiss

quite sweetly once more.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

NOVEMBER 8, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  The Beginning of My Draft

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On a late October day,

in Athens-Clarke County,

Georgia, turtles did, I say,

sun themselves quite nicely

—–

on rocks in the Middle Oconee River.

Some of them, upon noticing the presence

of interested human observers

on the land, dove into the river, hence

—-

leaving empty, large rocks behind.

Others, however, remained where they were

and continued to absorb heat so kind

on a cool day with a brrr.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

OCTOBER 25, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  Part of the Rough Draft of This Poem

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It is good to have and enjoy

a lazy Saturday,

to be free to remain home,

pursuing hobbies,

such as reading, writing, and, O boy!–

while keeping boredom at bay–

consulting a tome

to sate my curiosities.

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It is good to have and enjoy

a lazy Saturday,

something I have not always had,

for leisure is good for us,

some idleness is helpful to this goy,

whatever some may say

in advice quiet bad

about idle hands–it is false fuss.

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It is good to have and enjoy

a lazy Saturday,

for there is plenty of time

for labor and other work.

So I am far from being coy

whenever I say,

even in a rhyme,

that constant motion makes one berserk.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

AUGUST 31, 2013 COMMON ERA

Above:  Part of the Rough Draft of the Poem

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My preferred and primary style of private prayer is contemplative.  I become more contemplative as I age, in fact.  Besides, excessive talking to God gets in the way of listening as much as one should.

KRT

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As the deer longs for the water-brooks,

so longs my soul for you, O God.

My soul is athirst for God, athirst for the living God;

when shall I come to appear before the presence of God?

–Psalm 42:1-2, The Book of Common Prayer (1979)

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I sit amid quiet

interrupted by the gentle

movement of a clock hand,

the sound of the conditioning of air,

and the slight

voice of vehicles

driven on the close thoroughfare.

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I sit, think, and listen

to the near-absence of noise

and find it appealing

and necessary for my soul.

To it I have learned to hasten

so I can hear its voice

through my inner self ring;

its absence takes a terrible toll.

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This stillness I need;

this quiet I crave and desire,

for to my life it is crucial

yet sometimes in short supply.

In this stillness there is a seed

of spiritual life higher,

life which is essential;

that is no lie.

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To find this quiet one must still be,

distracted not, nor too occupied,

for noise can drown out peace

and concerns be as idols.

To find this voice spiritually

one must not in overactivity abide

and excessive sound must cease;

sometimes one must be idle.

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The reward is truly great–

beyond comparison and most precious–

and if one must sacrifice

to find it, so be it,

for this holy desire only God can sate.

It comes without fuss

and is worth any price

one pays it to get.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

AUGUST 30, 2013 COMMON ERA

THE FEAST OF CHARLES CHAPMAN GRAFTON, EPISCOPAL BISHOP OF FOND DU LAC

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http://blogatheologica.wordpress.com/2013/08/30/morning-stillness/

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Above:  Part of My Library, Sunday Morning, July 7, 2013

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My library, full of a host of books

on various topics

and from more than one point of view,

is not just for looks.

There I find words from fans and critics

of various people and ideas numbered more than a few.

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My library, full of a host of books,

used to be much larger,

the volumes more numerous.

But then it took

up too much space, I argue;

it was too much fuss.

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So I reduced its ranks,

keeping what I perceived to need

and selling the rest.

Seeing more of my walls and floors was my thanks;

on open space partially do I feed,

as experience and time do attest.

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My library, full of a host of books,

has grown again during the last two years,

so it I prune occasionally.

It is good to see a vacant nook,

and clutter on me wears,

so open space is key.

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My library, full of a host of books,

remains a convenient reference library,

for no screen can compare to the printed page.

Bound volumes I have not forsook

in my quest for an open home sanctuary.

No, books remain, for me, all the rage.

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Yet to prune the library from time to time

is indeed advice quite sage,

for I mean to remember and act upon a great lesson–

to maintain a healthy balance in my home clime

as I consult words on a page,

words that my soul feeds on.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

JULY 7, 2013 COMMON ERA

Below:  More of My Library, Sunday Morning, July 7, 2013

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