Archive for the ‘Summer’ Category

Shadow of a Cat   Leave a comment

Shadow of a Cat

Above:  The Original Draft of the Poem

Image Source = Kenneth Randolph Taylor

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In the darkness of the night,

as I look at the window,

through which shines the outdoor light,

I see the back steps’ shadow,

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and the shadow of a cat,

Leslie Catherine Taylor,

who might one day hunt a rat.

My friend cleans her feline fur,

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sits on an elevated

step, taking in the view from

on high, then decides to get

a new view of her kingdom.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

SEPTEMBER 1, 2014 COMMON ERA

Leslie   1 comment

Leslie

Above:  The Original Draft of the Poem

Image Source = Kenneth Randolph Taylor

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Sleep, young Leslie, the afternoon away

in the soil beneath a rose-bush,

curled up smartly in the temperate shade.

You, a tuxedo cat, do brush

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away all stress gently without effort.

The mere sight of you softens hearts,

melts fears, reduces worries, and comforts

the hurt.  You are a work of art.

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And so, until I feed you the next time

and you eat favored food gladly,

do that which cats do best–be most sublime

while training we humans subtly.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

JULY 8, 2014 COMMON ERA

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Below:  Leslie, July 25, 2014

Image Source = Kenneth Randolph Taylor

Leslie--July 25, 2014 04

Leslie--July 25, 2014 03

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Crystal and Leslie   1 comment

Crystal and Leslie

Above:  The Original Draft of the Poem

Image Source = Kenneth Randolph Taylor

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Take comfort, my feral feline neighbors,

mother Crystal and daughter Leslie,

for you are my favorite two creatures;

this has become our reality.

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That you stretch out and curl up, even sleep

at my back door makes me quite happy.

I understand why distance you still keep

from human beings, even from me,

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but at least you have become more present

(and more often) than previously.

Your visibility alone has meant

a great deal to my darling and me.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

JULY 7, 2014 COMMON ERA

Then Comes the Night–And You   Leave a comment

Nocturne

Above:  Nocturne (1878), by James McNeill Whistler (1834-1903)

Image Source = Library of Congress

(http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/90713302/)

Reproduction Number = LC-USZ62-100648

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When Winter’s dark’ning sky

Draws twilight to its close,

When lights glow soft and warm,

And shadows round us lie;

When fires burn bright and true,

And all within is cheer;

While joy and love await,

Then comes the night–and you.

—–

When birds their springtime call

Send trilling through the air;

When Spring’s first flowers bloom,

And shadows gently fall;

When stars, set in the blue,

Shine softly up above;

When breezes gently blow,

Then comes the night–and you.

—–

When Summer days are long,

And daylight slowly fades,

When lights first burn at dusk,

And every bird’s in song;

When sunset’s crimson hue

Is swiftly turned to gold;

When shines the moon above,

Then comes the night–and you!

RANDOLPH WINBURN BARRETT

JULY 22, 1932 COMMON ERA

Morning Silence   2 comments

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Above:  Sunrise, Sea of Galilee, October 1945

Image Created by the Matson Photo Service

Image Source = Library of Congress

(http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/mpc2010007352/PP/)

Reproduction Number = LC-DIG-matpc-21869

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O God, you are my God:

and earnestly I seek you.

My soul thirsts for you, my body yearns for you

like a land that is dry and thirsty for water.

–Psalm 63:1-2, A New Zealand Prayer Book (1989)

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Early I rise,

sleepy dust no longer in my eyes.

I sit in the quietness,

hear a bird outdoors

and an occasional car on the road.

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Apart mostly from the bird,

however, there is near silence,

as I hear the sound

of my pen on paper;

that is little to be heard.

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In a few minutes

the clock will say 6:00.

I could return to bed,

but now that I am up,

perhaps soon will be a time to sup

instead then to write some more,

contemplating as I go,

what the quietness has in store.

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Most prayer, for me,

does not consist of words;

I have no interest in speaking

to God most of the time.

Rather–and I think fortunately,–

I want mostly to listen

to what God has to say

in the still, silent voice;

this is part of the homage I pay.

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Peace and quiet the world seems to fear,

for television sets blare at us,

advertisements scream to shop there or here,

vibrations from stereos in cars affect me

when I am not in those cars, but am at home.

Influences tell us to pump up the volume,

to go-go-go!,

to seek our destiny

somewhere other than in the eternity

of God here and now,

as well as elsewhere and later.

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From peace and quiet we ought not to roam

habitually, for too much noise is a bitter foe,

and it is good to live in a milieu

lacking in perpetual fuss.

So I seek God within,

for God is there, abiding always,

waiting inside each of us

for us to repent of our sin

of chasing vainly after the divine

in ways that do not satisfy

and places where God is not.

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So may this be a lesson:

God is not in the din and the glitz,

for it is true that holiness does not fit

inside that shaped hole.

No, in the stillness and quiet

God does speak.

May we listen to the eloquent wisdom;

the silence may we not malign,

for God lives within us,

inside the soul.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

JULY 1, 2013 COMMON ERA

THE FEAST OF PAULI MURRAY, CIVIL RIGHTS ATTORNEY AND EPISCOPAL PRIEST

THE FEAST OF CATHERINE WINKWORTH, TRANSLATOR OF HYMNS

THE FEAST OF HARRIET BEECHER STOWE, ABOLITIONIST

THE FEAST OF JOHN CHANDLER, ANGLICAN PRIEST, SCHOLAR, AND TRANSLATOR OF HYMNS

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http://blogatheologica.wordpress.com/2013/07/01/morning-silence/

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Arguing Across Generations   Leave a comment

Snapshot_20130616_13

Above:  The Author on Sunday Afternoon, June 16. 2013

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Typing my great-grandfather’s sermon outlines

then publishing them,

learning who he was a century ago,

I do find

that often I argue with him

as a-typing I go.

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He undervalued secular education;

a fact is a fact, I say,

and pure knowledge has great worth.

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He held traditional views on the roles of women;

they were wrong then and remain so today.

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Roman Catholicism he did insult and condemn;

From Holy Mother Church do I borrow heavily,

even very heartily.

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He favored revivalism and condemned ritualism;

I use Prayer Books and wish my parish used incense more often;

to altars and crosses I bow,

and I do not think that I should have to explain how

such practices are good.

Criticisms of them I dismiss

as one who has survived negative encounters with poorly-informed critics could;

them I prefer to leave alone, for that is best.

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To preserve and share family history is my goal;

to learn more as I proceed,

I know and am told,

my mind does truly feed.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

JUNE 27, 2013 COMMON ERA

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Some Germane Posts:

https://taylorfamilypoems.wordpress.com/regarding-sermon-outlines-by-george-washington-barrett/

https://taylorfamilypoems.wordpress.com/2012/07/28/family-tree-of-george-washington-barrett/

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Morning Turtles   Leave a comment

056253pv

Above:  View Looking Down the Tailrace from the West Side of the Powerhouse–Tallassee Shoals Hydroelectric Facility, Middle Oconee River, Athens, Clarke County, Georgia

Photograph Created by the Historic American Engineering Record

Image Source = Library of Congress

(http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/ga0489.photos.056253p/resource/)

Reproduction Number = HAER GA,30-ATH.V,1–1

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That plant, according to the plaque in Ben Burton Park (the current use for the site) closed in 1964, having been in operation since 1896.–KRT

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In the Middle Oconee River,

closer to its normal state,

with many of its large rocks above water

(at least partially),

a small group of turtles sunned themselves

on two rocks as water cascaded

near them, flowing gloriously

in its river bed through Athens-Clarke County

then into the Oconee River proper,

through the County of Greene

and toward its ultimate fate,

the Atlantic Ocean.

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But, here and now, it is fun

to watch the water flow quickly

as turtles rest above it then reenter it unaided,

going where they will during their turtle lives,

perhaps oblivious to we humans observing them

from the bank, just glad to see them at a distance

as we enjoy nature quietly,

seeking  nothing in return,

but revering, each in our turn,

that which is free,

yet beyond price.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

JUNE 24, 2013 COMMON ERA