Archive for the ‘Night’ Tag

A Kitchen Scene   Leave a comment

Poem

Above:  The Original Draft of the Poem

Image Source = Kenneth Randolph Taylor

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I noticed something mundane and beautiful in my kitchen about two weeks ago.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

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Light from a cellphone charger

shines through a Cheerwine bottle

in a darkened kitchen,

dancing through leftover bubbles.

The red light announces its

presence prominently and

performs a Charleston with

the now-luminescent liquid bubbles.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

APRIL 19, 2014 COMMON ERA

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Islands of Night Sky   Leave a comment

Islands of Night Sky

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

God’s Garden   Leave a comment

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Above:  Peach Blossoms, Between 1900 and 1906

Image Source = Library of Congress

(http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/det1994009098/PP/)

Reproduction Number = LC-D4-16304

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God’s garden is a wondrous thing,

It covers all the world.

‘Tis filled with blossoms of all kinds,

Wee birds, and flow’rs unfurled.

There are beautiful ponds all thro’ it,

Larger than any of ours;

But they’re there, and are of His making,

Objects of infinite pow’rs.

—–

At night He sends refreshing sleep,

Like dew upon wild flowers,

To cool and res them after day’s

Hot sun and trying hours.

With gentle, warming rays;

He sends the rain to give them drink

And food, thro’ all their days.

—–

God doesn’t want His gard’n abused

At any time or place;

He wants each flow’r to bloom for Himself

In beauty and with grace.

For each beautiful life, seen by all,

Helps each of us, no matter how weak;

May work in God’s garden some.

RANDOLPH WINBURN BARRETT

AUGUST 5, 1932 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

Thoughts (From L.C. On the Hill)   Leave a comment

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Above:  Early Moonlight (Between 1900 and 1912), by Ben Foster (1852-1926)

Publisher and Copyright Claimant = Detroit Publishing Company

Image Source = Library of Congress

(http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/det1994023108/PP/)

Reproduction Number = LC-D416-599

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EDITOR’S COMMENT:

Circumstantial evidence leads me to conclude, via Ockham’s Razor, that “L.C. On the Hill” is LaGrange College, LaGrange, Georgia, with its campus on a hill.  My grandmother, Nell Barrett Taylor (1915-2001) was a student there in 1932.  The college was not yet coed, so maybe her brother Randolph was visiting her.  And he was obviously recuperating from a break-up with a girlfriend.

http://www.lagrange.edu/index.html

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

AUGUST 10, 2013 COMMON ERA

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As I sit alone at my window,

I hear not a sound,

For the town is still and sleeping

As the watchman makes his round.

—–

The moon is in the heavens,

Looking majestically down,

Upon the earth beneath it,

Upon the sleeping town.

—–

The moon descends the western sky,

And I watch its fading glory,

I think what it means to me–

A few lines will tell the story.

—–

The majestic moon, riding high,

Was the height of our happy love.

With the fading splendor of the moon,

Dark clouds loiter above.

—–

These clouds, which hang so lovely,

Are the darkness which I now know–

For your love is mine no longer,

And I still love you so.

GEORGE WASHINGTON BARRETT

APRIL 1932 COMMON ERA

Sunset   Leave a comment

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Above:  At Sunset (Between 1900 and 1912), By Charles Davis (1856-1933)

Publisher and Copyright Claimant = Detroit Publishing Company

Image Source = Library of Congress

(http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/det1994022533/PP/)

Reproduction Number = LC-D416-48

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Twilight falls with peaceful silence

As the Sun’s last rays are flung

Out across a blue horizon

And the evening hymn is sung.

—–

Who can paint so great a picture

Of the sky with gold inlaid?

Who describe such restful silence

When the light begins to fade?

—–

No mortal’s brush can paint that scene,

No pen describe that hush;

No tongue can tell the soul’s response

To that touch of master-brush.

—–

His life was like the great sunset

At the close of each short day,

Except His glory never fades–

And the sunsets pass away.

RANDOLPH WINBURN BARRETT

JULY 18, 1932 COMMON ERA