Category Archives: CONNECTING

PRAISE GOD MOST HIGH FOR ANSWERED PRAYER

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Praise to you, God Most High,

For hearing prayer on the fly…

And your delight

Being quiet in your Sight,

Bringing us into your Light.

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You would talk with us,

Yet we put up the fuss…

Ne’er slowing down

Nor coming around,

In ways that are not just!

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Walking with your children in gardens,

Seeing our eyes at Thee widen…

drying our tears

and calming our fears,

Joy at mutual abiding!

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We don’t model for kids,

the closeness and joy you give…

But stay away–

Asking others pray–

Misunderstanding God’s writ.

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Pray for me, said like Simon,*

The sorcerer on his own ladder climbing…

Unwilling to claim

Given to him in God’s name,

What Christ, without his help, did buy for him!

–

–Jonathan Caswell

  •  Simon the Sorcerer…see  The Book of the Acts of the Apostles (or  simply…”ACTS”)  8:9-24.

STRANGER THINGS…

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Stranger outcomes happen,

When opportunity’s tapping,

Wanting in

And you begin

Writing ideas you’re trapping!

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He’s written ’bout Christ and trains–

Weather seems worth one’s pains….

Fashion poems are new

As something to do,

And the challenge takes working brains!

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I’d say it is channeling energy,

Most of which has left me….

Shapes and sizes

And stylish surmises,

Still need a bard’s entrée.

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“An eye for the women.” one said,

Focusing on their clothes instead..

“Clothes make the man”

And women, and can

Leave little more to be said!

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YET–a poet describes,

Details that emanate vibes…

Along a track

That likes feedback,

Both positive and wise!

–

–Jonathan Caswell

 

 

 

WHAT SAYS “NEW ENGLAND” ?

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My model layout wanders it seems

Away from cherished themes…

What for you

Says “New England” too,

Beyond operational schemes?

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 Does NISSEN BREAD,

MOXIE, barns red,

SPAGS and stores

With “colonial” decors,

Monuments to Revolutionary dead?

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Dairies and granite quarries

In earlier days held stories…

Ice cream and views

Along the Turnpike count too,

And whaling ship stories!

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Broad “a’s” in speech,

A Kennedy’s reach…

Where Plymouth Rock stays

And Sturbridge Village ways

Are preserved to history teach!

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So for my small train set,

What industries are best…

Beverages and rock salt

Metals, food stuffs sought,

And historic touristy nests?

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Gravel still travels by train,

Lumber and minerals same…

Environmental ire

Has dampened coal fired

Power plants, but garbage still flames!

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A water-powered mill

And museum of trains fit the bill…

For small excursions

Of rich incursions into filling the local till!

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Do you think I’ll have enough room,

I figure some things will die soon…

New England gives

And takes to live,

But survival cannot be assumed!

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–Jonathan Caswell

JUSTIFYING MY “0-6-2”

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An N scale “2-6-2”,

The lead set of wheels he blew…

Pictured once

An engine thus,

Converted to an “0-6-2.”

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Most steam engines of this type,

In foreign fields are ripe…

In the U.S.

Mostly tank engines are left,

Them with tenders as hard to find as snipe!

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Some may have come from Birmingham,

Alabama, a modified plan…

No evidence there—

Or up in the air—

The Internet doesn’t do well with “rare”.

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He thinks Indiana coal fields,

Was where a real engine congealed…

Now he cannot find

The photo in mind,

Not finding a prototype, his mind reels!

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Worse yet, he’s lost his model,

Was it sold or just took a toddle…

Somewhere below

All the other stuff so,

His research continues in high throttle!

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–Jonathan Caswell

Google Image of a live steam model of a European designed 0-6-2 + tender,

produced by ROUNDHOUSE, makers of small scale live steam models.

CRITTER CALLS!

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Not quite like peepers at night,

Railroad critters have their own light…

G.E.’s tend to whine

On their owner’s dime,

With short cuts of cars they fight!

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The twenty-five tonner “dinky”

Exhaust tends toward stinky…

Smoke in the eyes

Is no surprise,

At times blue smoke turns inky!

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When old, oft put on display,

Costs more to scrap anyway…

Does its job

With no hobnob,

From the big trains’ right of way!

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–Jonathan Caswell

POET…AFTER (A) FASHION!

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He calls himself “fashion poet”,

One or two others know it…

In pursuits

Avoiding lawsuits,

He certainly doesn’t want to blow it!

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Him being man and all,

Must carefully judge his call…

With less passion

Than stereotypical fashion,

Not being the Beast at the ball.

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Gender matters to him,

Especially if women…

They’re the kind

He most has in mind,

Do they mind if he tiptoes in?

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–Jonathan Caswell

A TOAST TO FRIENDS PRESENT AND MISSING…AT CHRISTMAS TIME!

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People we miss and love,

Missing or taken above…

Oh how we miss

Their joy or hiss,

Their gentle comments or rough!

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Among them is Esther Ling,

She was in the lesbian thing…

Opposite were we

But she was a Mommy,

Ran to her when figuratively I needed mothering!

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Numerous friends I had in school,

Have slipped or drove away (I’m the fool)…

Some I drove away

Or ignored to this day,

Elementary through college kept only two

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Bloggers–many follow some not–

Never sure of how many give you thought…

Over a thousand mine

To whom I give little time,

Just a handful  of their blogs I’ve sought!

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Surrounded by my family we are,

Been slow to contact any (my par)…

Younger ones I don’t know

As familiar ones go,

What can I do, having delayed thus far?

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Does any of this make sense,

Is loss of your friends as immense…

I’m sure it is–

Friends we miss,

We remember  our friends in the past tense!

–

–Jonathan Caswell

TRAPPIST FOODS

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When J. J. NISSEN folded,

My image of a bakery molded…

Its replacement too big

So I had to dig,

To see what research “beholded”.

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My past is in two places–

It one ever traces–

The lines of “me”

Diligently

For personal data chases!

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Massachusetts, New York State,

My two major windows of fate…

Born here

But raised over there,

Memories in both are great.

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One of my faves was Monks Bread,

A Trappist Monastery did…

And still does

The bread funds their cause,

Producing jams, jellies, plus all kinds of bread!

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A model flat against the wall,

Leaves hardly space at all…

Have to use what I have

Of plastic walls saved,

Modeling a bakery et. al.

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So I thought of TRAPPIST FOODS,

A catch-all title to use…

Producing bread

And conserves, I said,

Switching different train cars is a ball!

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Specifically, flour and fruit,

Corn syrup and sugar to boot…

Isn’t enough?

They brand other stuff,

The question of a brewery—moot.

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MONKS BREAD  from Western New York,

From that Trappist Abbey of course…

A college friend

Heading toward that end,

Found a wife and went in another!

–

–Jonathan Caswell

WHY MRS. CLINTON IS GONE*

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*(From this Header Image Randomized  File)

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As by election she’s gone,

Blog administrators move on…

Needed space

For the poet’s face,

And his wife–picnicking on the lawn!

–

And which would he rather see–

Clinton or industry…?

His options voiced

And made his choice,

Mrs. Clinton, you are now “free”.

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Have you seen the poet’s new hat,

Fake beard and all of that…?

Come again

Let the images run,

And maybe in time, you’ll see that!

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–Jonathan Caswell

VICARIOUS COLD SHOWER

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Vicariously feeling heat,

Of poetic lovers retreat…

Wanting to plunge

In mutual lunge,

Realizing there’s no honey to eat.

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Left standing  all alone,

These visions are not your own…

Kissing mid-air

A lover not there,

Embarrassed when bystanders groan!

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Stiffening love has power,

But time to take a REAL cold shower…

Her poetry

Powerfully

Has brought the experience to flower.

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–J.E.C.