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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn  10/22/2014 10:02:11 PM
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True Beauty

We do not fit in with esteemed
Authority to ascertain
Beauty that their caste may deem
It to be- how shallow and vain
they are in our amateur eyes!
For us, magnificence finds us:
Virgin snowflakes fall from the sky
In myriad splendiferous
Silence; A flock of ring-billed gulls
Swooping wailing and squawking
In descending widen circles
amid the frozen flakes, settling
like miniature river floes.
This is beauty that’s apropos.
Albert Ahearn




Six o'clock on a Sunday morn
I hear the call of a forlorn
Dove. Its mourning sound so sadly
pled evokes a melancholy.
It spurred my thinking back in time
When I was of another mind:
A time when we had fell in love
And witnessed by a turtledove.
So many springs have come and gone
And still I hear its cry at dawn
A sound that conjures up in me
A sad but loving reverie:
A daydream of that morning bird
Whose sad refrains we both had heard.
Albert Ahearn



Unspoken Words

Words will never convey my thoughts
What I so want to say to her
It often leaves me overwrought
My mind becomes a hopeless blur.
Her comely grace and pleasing eyes
Her sweet amicability
Leaves me goggle-eyed and tongue-tied
when I look upon her beauty.
At home I think up words to say
Articulating syllables
Spoken in a well mannered way
But deem them unacceptable.
The hardest thing for me to do
Is utter three words, “I love you.”
Albert Ahearn



Walking through time

This morning I went on my daily stroll.
Only this time it was quite different:
I permitted my mind to take control
How much I knew not or to what extent.
It took me on a tour of memories.
I see a boy walking in this same place.
He hears a call, “Al...bee! ” The reverie
Had roused in him his mother’s lovely face.
He knew the purpose of her tireless call
It was almost noontime, its time to eat.
He arrived home late that day I recall
And consequently took a little heat.
She said, “Albee, it’s rude to be tardy
‘I’m Sorry’ does not ease severity.”
Just as I was about to get a smack
My mind propelled me into the future
Same boy, a bit older. As I think back
I was always getting slapped, that I’m sure.
I couldn’t understand, I'd done no wrong.
If angels roamed earth, you’re looking at one.
Again I hear her call the same singsong
Inflection. Al...bee! Al...bee time to run.
I could hear her from across the river.
There is no way I can make it back in time.
The kids chanting' run! Run Chicken liver! ”
I booked it to the bridges railway line
Crossed over, then across the open field
To where I’m walking now. I’m here! I yelled.
But my words fell on deaf ears. I’m a tot
Again. Standing atop a rail, arms stretched
Out for balance. Not too far from this spot
Where I’m now walking. The memory is etched
Indelibly in my mind. I count steps
One! Two! Buckle my shoe, three, four, close...oops
The door, Five, six pick up sticks. This I kept
Up until I slipped off the rail. Then whooped
Like an Indian, then once more I cried
Out and an echo returned repeating
Wooaheeeah! Aheeah far and wide.
Suddenly I heard a whistle blowing
A freight train on the same tracks where I stand
Better move myself from this piece of land.
The next instant found myself soaking wet.
We were all swinging naked from a rope
That hung from a trestle. I’ll not forget
The first time I let go of the towrope.
Plunging into the fast current river
That swept me downstream, desperately
Fighting the fast water that delivered
Me to shore, embarrassed and with skinned knees.
If mom sees these bloodied knees, I’m dead meat.
I could say it happen playing baseball
Yea! Playing in the middle of the street
But will she believe catching a ground ball?
Why don’t I tell her the actual truth?
No way! That might just cost me a front tooth.
I sensed my mind was tiring. The present
Was emerging as quickly as the past
Disappeared. I’m myself again. This meant
A lot to me. Too bad it didn’t last.
Well, got to be a little tot again
Moreover, I got to hear mothers’ voice.
Both boy and mom I thought I had forgotten.
Not true! A mind's a memory device.
All one needs to do is let ones self go
And it will take you places you once were
To relive each special time long ago
Keeps alive the little boy and mother.
As I conclude this walk I say a prayer
I‘m so elated, like walking on air.
Albert Ahearn
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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn