Poems  and Dream

by Dora Louise Colby

 OUR FLAG

The Flag of our nation was bright and gay,

On the building that housed the N.Y.A.

When the sun had gone its colors faded,

Whilst it drooped and hung with appearance jaded.

Said the Flag to itself ‘And can it be,

The Youth of the land have forgotten me’

I watched, and hoped they would take it down

For darkness had fallen over the town,

A darkness that deepened into night

With our Flag still left.  Oh sorry sight,

Is this how the emblem of all the free should be left

And by those whose first duty should be to honor the Flag

And bless the hand,

That gave them a chance to do well in the land.

                             *          *          *          *

When next I looked out over the town,

By the light of the moon, they were hauling it down.

                             *          *          *          *

I grieve to write such a sorry story

Of our wonderful Flag.  Dear Old Glory.

THE WIND

White wings over the ocean,

An ocean of slate and grey.

Little white horses chasing each other

Across the bay.

Why are you sullen, oh Ocean,

Bringing a mist o’er the sky?

Has the wind made you angry?

Will the gathering clouds cry?

But the sand whipped up in fury,

Like a fog across the strand;

And soon the sun was gone,

And dusk came o’er the land.

My cheeks were stung with a sand lash

Which roused my soul to ire,

So I hurried to my cosy chair,

And a book by a cheerful fire.

THE PROMISE

The day was cold and everywhere was dreary,

This made my spirit sad, and maybe rather weary.

But at the close of day with storm clouds hanging high,

The sun dropped down to bid the world good bye.

My spirits rose, and everything looked golden,

As gracefully she sank like a lantern olden,

Into the ocean, which slowly blushed and smiled

And over clouds which had been dark and wild

The roseate hues were deepening like flame

And the waters purple tinted soon became.

And as I watched, the twilight changed to night,

A path of gold receded from my sight,

Amber streamed through where a cleft was riven,

And then my path of gold went straight to Heaven.

Platinum and rose spread over all the Bay,

And gave the promise of future glorious day.

THE STORM

                                                                   FEB. 1939

The birds twittered under the eaves, and the shadows melted away,

As the dawn in the east proclaimed another new day.

A pale pink dawn, deepening to red

I thought of the seers of olden times who said,

‘If such is the color at dawn of day,

beware,’ for a storm is on the way.

                    *          *          *

The birds called and chattered, and away they flew,

Their breakfast to find, in the morning dew.

                    *          *          *

A deep alizarin spread over the sky, from east to west,

The sun drew nigh,

A tip of gold in a heaven gory.

Then quickly she rose in all her glory,

Awakening the world from sleep and rest,

To tool again with vigor and zest.

Such a beautiful day, so fine and warm,

It couldn’t possibly hereld a storm

                    *          *          *

All was still:

Over the bay and over the hill,

And white waves rippled over the strand,

Whilst a golden sun smiled down on the land.

Then the wind wirelessed in and knocked my awning

Telling me to prepare for storming.

Whilst a zephyr flew by, in and out of the trees,

And as I watched, along came the wind,

Howling.  Tossing all he could find.

                    *          *          *          *

The birds chirped and chattered and flew to cover,

Hoping the storm would soon be over.

But that was only the storm beginning,

For next the sand was caught whirling and spinning

In clouds it came up over the hill,

My plants and seedlings and shrubs to kill

Oh, how my old house shivered and shook,

As the wind in her fury a pleasure took

In rattling windows, and we thought by chance

We’d be carried away in her maddening dance.

Then the sea joined the wind in a hurricane gale

And the big waves dashed on rock and shale

The foam and spray came up in a cloud,

Covering all with a dark damp shroud.

And as night deepened we whispered to Thee,

‘Please God take care of the ships at sea.’

And we leave the ships of the air in Thy hands

Winging their way to distant lands.

NEW YEAR’S EVE

1940

New Year’s Eve in California.

Happy friends surrounding us.

Games, singing.  Supper a little before midnight.

Old Lang Syne, as the clock strikes the witching hour.

Laughter and New Year’s Wishes.

          The War had been pushed into the background for a short time.

          Then Quiet, and darkness, and my spirit was gone; back to my war torn homeland.

          As I hovered over that house in a little Midland town, where once only Happiness reigned, saw once more those sentinels of Lime trees leafless and bare along the quiet road.  Heard the wind whistling through their branches.

          In that hour before dawn, I met a quiet spirit.  A spirit that once embodied peaceful living in the Old Home we both watched

          Together we (My Mother and I) slipped into the house, and thru the rooms where sleeping women and children lay.  Some seemed to smile, and the troubled ones ceased their tossing as Her gentle Spirit passed over them.  I met Her loving glance, and knew she was content.

          The Government had commandeered Her old home for War Refugees I am sure she would have it so.

          I looked into many familier corners, and was glad that the little homeless Evacuees could play in our old garden.  Then as I prepared for flight the grey dawn came up and I heard the hurrying feet of workers going to New Year’s Service before their daily toil began.  I wondered what Mottoe would be given to them.  May they have a more peaceful and Happy New Year.

          In a flash I was back in my own bed, with my husband sleeping beside me, and happy in the knowledge that my dear ones were in a land that was far from the strife of war.

          I prayed that we Americans might give of all our aid to help keep the Agressor from our shores.

          Ships and Munitions,          Planes and Prayers.