El Parque Condominiums
Poetry
Vera Lindley
The late Vera Lindley was a poet and an artist. The following is a poem written by her titled "Mi Mexico"
Clouds wisping across mountaintops,
Garcia bulking across the lake,
Herons and egrets - counterpoint of white against green,
Blossoms everywhere - red, pink, yellow, blue
Echoed in colours of houses.
Clip clop of horses' hooves on cobblestone streets,
Fiestas, devotion.
Ancient ruins, speaking of mysterious rites
And lost civilizations.
Welcoming smiles and "Buenos dias" from strangers,
Generous, caring Mexican nature.
Kind neighbours and fine friends,
A sense of community.
Breeze rustling the palms,
Hummingbirds and orioles at my feeder,
Colourful parades with dancing horses and raucous fun.
Butterflies at the bougainvillea,
Birdsong and flashes of colour.
Annual migration of white pelicans,
Monarch butterflies
Finding their way to far forested mountains
To mate and die.
Blue skies, starry nights,
Sunset glory spread across the heavens.
Van Gogh would have loved it. Why would I live anywhere else? Mi Mexico!
Jim McLaughlin
A Tribute to El Parque
El Parque is our fond abode, shear paradise to me,
Green hills that near-surround our homes, for all of us to see. Each day we know the sun will rise, with scarce a cloud in sight, With warm embraces nourishing sweet blossoms that delight.
We step out in the morning air to welcome each new day, Thankful for a life so blessed with leisure, friends and play.
We’re no spring chickens, I’ll admit, but still we’re spry and keen,
Still looking down upon the grass, not up is what I mean.
‘Tis true we all have wrinkles, but at least they cause no pain,
And help us - when we're out of doors - drain faster in the rain; We may be missing molars, but that saves on dental bills,
We’re told we should drive slower, but they always say 'speed kills'.
Sunbird flocks alight each year, from most ev’ry Southern State,
But fly off ‘fore the winter when the snowbirds all migrate;
And then we have the ‘permanents’, who nest here all-year long,
Who ‘Keep the Home Fires Burning’, in the words of that old song.
And let us not forget the staff who make our stay so great,
The gardeners who tend our lots, the guards who man the gate;
Our Admin - Martha - is the best, our Board ay on the ball,
And every unpaid volunteer, we thank them one and all.
So here’s to all of us ol’ farts, and those of us quite new,
We may not have the years to come we once thought was our due,
But let’s delight in what we have - the sun will still shine bright,
The stars still twinkle up above, beyond the pale moonlight.
Jim McLaughlin – December, 2021
In Praise of the Sonnet
​
Pinnacle of vaunted inspiration,
The Sonnet, fourteen lines of true noblesse;
No shibboleth, like thirteen’s reputation,
Its pristine form a triumph of finesse.
Shakespeare was the master of its genus,
All others doomed to vie for second best;
Fourteen lines to wax, or treat of Venus,
Of love, or loss, or of a world oppressed.
So hie ye, poetasters of the nation,
Aspiring to the rank of Sonneteer;
This world so lost in digital fixation
Awaits another Spenser or Shakespeare.
Embrace the call and grasp yon idle quill –
Now pen thy fourteen lines with right good will.
Infinity – A Sonnet
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What is this life, its purpose and its cause?
What power can sate a universe so vast,
Expanding ever outward without pause,
Uncharted in its progress and its past.
As if from nought the quondam monster sprang
In fiery leap, a bang perchance, but then
Ordained by rule to stall and boomerang,
Regressing to a pea-sized orb again.
And not content to rest, once more ‘twill bound
Far into dark infinity, unchecked,
In seeming endless cycles, round and round,
Throughout a timeless void; to what effect?
And we, our earth-bound passage swift and bright,
A momentary flash, that fades to night.
DILEMMA
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How do you solve a dilemma,
Joined to a strange paradox,
Tied up in a thorny enigma,
With a ribbon most unorthodox?
Conundrums abound and defy us,
Solutions evade and confuse;
Puzzlements daily confound us,
And serve to both try and bemuse.
No matter, dear friends, let’s agree
On life's troubled waters we’ll float,
Happy and free, on a moonlit sea,
“In a beautiful pea-green boat.”
(Last line: Edward Lear)
Fair and Lovely
​
She was fair, and she was lovely, she came awhile to stay;
With quiet step she crossed the floor, and sweetly with me lay.
Obscuring darkness filled the room, yet all of her I knew,
My every sense with hers entwined, no eye could see so true.
No sound disturbed our wakefulness, and little did we speak,
I only heard the soughing breeze, and her breath upon my cheek.
Her heart beat fast against my own, no less was mine becalmed;
If this be sin, and God offend, then let my soul be damned.
Across the fields, a clock tower's toll presaged our last caress -
A harbinger of coming morn, and thief of happiness.
She was fair, and she was lovely, and sweetly with me lay;
The darkness brought her to me once, the dawn stole her away
HOPE
​
A commentary inspired by the massacre of dozens of peaceful demonstrators in Peking's Tiananmen Square in June 1989.
Composed emotionally on the eve of the event.
A world so filled with cark and care, each day brings tidings grim:
We kill, we rape, we soil the earth, and follow every whim.
What hope is there for all of us who fret and know distress,
Who wonder how our children's young will cope with all the mess.
That crime is rife and morals lax, that caring's out of style;
And family life is under siege, beware the blackguard's smile.
We cannot hearken to the past, that time was wicked too,
Though surely we can strive to learn and know what not to do.
With threats of war and civil strife, and storm clouds rolling in,
What silver linings can we find, when will the good begin?
To hold mankind is good and just, that all of this will pass;
Can we dare hope for better times - how can we wish for less?
When politicians flaunt our trust, their tongues turned inside out;
When lawyers cloud our daily lives, no wonder that we doubt.
And now withal, so sad to tell, Evangelists must join
The list of sordid ne'er-do-wells who worship only coin.
Is all so lost, is all forlorn, must we surrender thus?
Where is the friendly, honest soul? - Perhaps in all of us.
Each one must search within himself and surely he will find
A wise and simple graciousness, and love of humankind.
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IN PASSING
​
Marching on, or dragging by so slow,
Great healer and destroyer, both;
Unyielding force, eternal flow,
Sworn enemy of wasteful sloth.
The progress of a shadow cast,
Describes your creeping forward roll;
A moment now, forever past,
Recorded by a distant toll.
Despised by lovers as you fly,
And those who once were fair of face;
The common name we know you by
Is Time, still moving on apace.
SELF
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It's a mean old world, I said to myself,
And said so again to me;
So I said to myself, be good to yourself,
As others are loath to be.
Be canny, I said, look out for yourself,
It's best to think just of thee;
I agreed with myself, when I thought to myself,
How selfish others can be.
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Nancy Wunder
The Late Nancy Wunder,
Formerly of Casa 27
​As was spoken of me before I recited "United" (not included) in Nashville's Let Love Ring Celebration, at Centennial Plaza on September 11, 2002......commemorating the one year anniversary of 9/11.
"The poetry Nancy writes comes from the depths of human suffering, and from that place of suffering, exemplifies a soul struggling for the ability to rise above the circumstances of life. Her poetry and writing represent the capacity of the human spirit to recover, resurrect, look for the positive in life and break free from the invisible chains that try to keep one earth bound and defeated. It seems when she writes, an invisible force directs her thought to those thoughts of a higher plane....a plane that offers hope and way to escape. In a world laden with hopelessness, despair and lack of spiritual direction, her poetry has been referred to as a liaison of light, pointing one to a higher plane of thought and feeling."
My poetry speaks from my heart....a heart that is quite often hid because of its tenderness...afraid of being stomped on in this world that we live. And yet, if I don't show it, you miss part of why I am here on earth....you miss part of who I am.
In my book, I explain my thoughts before the poems "came through me", as I consider myself only as a channel, and I share more of who "I am" in that process.
The following were published in my book, You Can Make It by Nancy Jean in 2008. [Jean, Nancy .... You Can Make It! (Kindle Locations 542-546). Outskirts Press, Inc.. Kindle Edition.] Also available in hard copy from Amazon.
f I Could Wish Upon a Star (written for my grandchildren)
If I could wish upon a star.
And have your dreams come true,
I’d hook the biggest and the best..
And reel them in for you.
I’d wish you always happy days,
And sunshine for your heart…
I’d wish you lots of love from friends
Right from the very start.
I’d wish you bright white moon beams..
Pretty colors in the sky..
I’d wish you lots of answers
For when you question, “Why?”
I’d wish you lots of rainbows
And blue sunshiny days…
And clouds to gaze at in the sky
While in the grass you lay.
I’d wish you lots of bugs to watch
And pretty flowers too…
And quiet paths for you to walk
To touch the morning dew.
I’d wish you hugs and kisses..
To take away your fears…
I’d wish my hand to be in yours…
So you would know I’m near.
The Vision
What footprints are you leaving
Today…in the sands of time?
Are they steady, straight and leave a path
In case I have to walk behind?
Do your steps lead toward a vision
Of a better way of life –
One filled with love and gentleness
Not bitterness and strife?
Do you know where you are headed?
Have you charted out your course?
Is the way mapped out before you?
Can you get there without force?
For the way of love is gentle
It is “in God we trust.”
We do our best to walk in love
And forgiveness is a MUST!
There may be times I’ll not know my way
So, I’ll step within your path.
I need you to lead with gentleness,
Not arrogance and wrath.
We need each other to reach our goals…
I’ll help you …and you help me –
Hand in hand we’ll make new footprints
Because God has set us free.
The Christmas Story
On this day a King was born
And in a manger lay.
Wisemen came and gave Him gifts
And on bended knee they prayed.
To thank their Father for this King..
A Savior for us all.
They did not know this awesome love
To be shown by one so small.
This Babe would know His Father’s voice
And carry out His plan.
His Father’s love, in human form,
Sent from heaven down to man.
The day He came they did not know
The fate before Him lay..
The price He’d pay to redeem our souls
On His crucifixion day.
On Christmas Day we celebrate
His arrival as a babe that day
And rejoice that He still lives today
And hears us when we pray.
A Friend
Who stands beside you
When all others leave…
A friend
Who laughs when you laugh,
And grieves when you grieve…
A friend
Who’s there to encourage you
When life throws you a blow…
A friend
Who’s willing to help
When others say, “No”…
A friend
Whose love touches your heart
When their remembrance crosses your mind….
A friend
Who’s ever so faithful
And ever so kind
A friend