Category Archives: descriptive

TIME TO CONFESS AND REPENT

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AUTHOR’S NOTE:  He’s not trying to grandstand—just admit to his guilt of certain motives and conduct and ask forgiveness of those he has wronged–whether or not they feel they were.  It is a part of his Christian belief…being reconciled to God and the ones he has wronged asking forgiveness of both.  There is a Bible basis to all this, which the author believes by faith to be the transcribed word of God to be followed and obeyed.  Especially when he doesn’t!  Questions/Comments are always welcome.

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Writer of poetry,

The “fashion” got away from me…

Chasing skirts

Many women hurts,

Of this I am guilty!

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Sought “readers” unsuccessfully,

The hidden motive–to see…

What interested

Where saints shouldn’t tread

And pester them endlessly!

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The many unreturned visits,

Prove out how wrong is it…

I know my sin

Repenting therein,

Stop this practice is the solution exquisite!

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I will  stillreach out,

In subjects not ruled out…

Walk in the flesh

Heavily risks death,

Gotta pull some hot irons out!

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The upshot–some I’ll follow–

The rest–if they visit tomorrow…

I’ll respond graciously

But not the pest–not me–

I’ve sinned–I repent in sorrow!

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My actions toward those of whom I’ve spoken,

From now on–contact is broken…

This I must do

So they’ll feel safe too,

No need of me in their business poking.

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–Jonathan Caswell

 

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!

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–Jonathan Caswell

 

 

 

MODELING MEMORIES

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His memories of New England various,

Were by and large vicarious…

Mostly pictures he saw

with interest and awe,

His chances of a visit–hilarious!

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Point of fact he was too young,

Couldn’t drive himself even some…

The eight-hour ride

Once a summer left wide,

Window for relevant magazines to come!

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Still his interest grew,

Past the time when he knew…

This paint scheme was gone,

these ALCOs moved on.

But the history he wanted to view.

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Found an N scale engine thus,

Painted just like this—a plus–

To re-enact

Historical fact,

Without too much fuss!

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–Jonathan Caswell

 

CHURCH ATTENDANCE–A HYPOTHETICAL POEM

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He rarely attends now,

It’s gone and got diff’rent somehow…

He feels pushed aside

Not welcomed inside,

No one’s been direct with him, anyhow!

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They used to go faithfully,

Found the spirit there strong and free…

The Pastor moved on

And a preacher took on

Things with his own personality.

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With his circle of friends,

For our subject, being close to a pastor ends…

You know his pride

Didn’t like “outside”

But he wanted to attend.

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Then he and his wife

Both saw ill health in life….

Comparison

With others is sin,

And churned up internal strife!

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The preacher/teacher and he,

(Too much alike?) weren’t happy…

It shifted into

“An authority over you”

Which wasn’t as healthy!

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Various dissatisfactions

Led to complaints and  feigned actions….

Poor communication

Led to frustration,

In mutual distraction.

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So now he stays at home

Sundays, with his wife alone…

No need to go

Taken for granted so,

But he’s stuck–this was his church home.

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Socially depended on her,

His wife, for communication stirred…

When she took ill

He didn’t have the will,

To see that his opening up occurred.

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He’s given his life for her,

Literally as it were…

Goes it alone

Reaching out he’s done,

Elsewhere–little left at “home”.

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Options to go elsewhere?

Feels bound by his wife–so there!

Decision paralyzed–

Easier to survive

By himself, ‘though few benefits to share!

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A “hypothetical poem”–which means it is just a poem….!

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–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.

HANGING TROPHIES

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Back when they owned a home,

Their woods the homeowner roamed…

Found a large bra

Waiting for a thaw,

Hanging from a branch away from home.

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Found a bag-full  ladies’ shoes,

And a PLAYGIRL Mag. well-used….

What evil lurks

In all human works,

What horrible things Man exumes!

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–Jonathan Caswell

MID-FEBRUARY HAIKU ASSORTMENT

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(Each individual three-line haiku is considered a poem on its own,

despite perhaps being related to a common theme.–J.E.C.)

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(Additionally, haiku may or may not include punctuation—traditional haiku generally do not  have it –J.E.C.)

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Presidents’ Day off

Waving away package trucks

Skeleton crew on

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American loss,

Long weekends not historic…

Blurred history lost!

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High snow banks turn brown

Road salt stains on pavement grey

Waiting for snow days

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Plow trucks stand idle

Except for salting road ice

No more overtime?

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Winter buds wonder

Is it time to grow and sprout?

Freeze burnt other years…!

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Swans in ponds feeding

Youngsters finally on their own

Mommas drove them off

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Easter candy sales

Set up before the fourteenth

Valentines half off

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–Jonathan Caswell

CONNIVING KITTY CATS!

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The girl in the suit seems dismayed,

Her spot’s been taken away…

The tiger reclined

Is the one who “felined”

While the girl was at play!

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This picture seems out of scale,

Little pussy cat’s big as a whale…

The glass is big too–

A close-up view–

Should think the woman would prevail!

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Now if…it’s not her cat,

Spray bottles take care of that…!

Her lioness within

Emerges to win,

And the presumptive cat…would scat!

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–J.E.C.

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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