The Hondo Anvil Herald. (Hondo, Tex.), Vol. 53, No. 37, Ed. 1 Friday, March 24, 1939 Page: 7 of 9
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PICKED CP FROM FARMING
1 939
ethereal conflict
The heart of waning daylight,
Wa painting- heaven's space.
The iridescent hues were bright.
Reflecting on earth's face.
A GARDEN PARTNERSHIP.
MY VALLEY.
A tension soon pervaded.
While shadows draped the void;
The vapors soon invaded
The golden heart which toyed.
It was such a charming cottage
And a Ion,ring to explore
I*ed me up a gravel pathway
To a wee, green doer.
She was quite the quaintest person,
Seeming just to fit the place;
In her crisp, print frock and apron
And a beaming face.
What holds my valley safe for me,—
A harebell by the rivulet side.
An oriole with bursting throat.
Foxgloves in hollows where abide
The nightingale, the melody
Of flashing pinioned forms that dote
On crofts of ferny finery.
AN OLD HOUSE.
Then cries of jealous thunder
Re-echoed in the sky,
It roared and shook asunder
The frightened vapors nigh.
It screamed in aggravation;
It made the lightning part
The vaults of God's creation.
And ripped the heavens’ heart.
She’d he pleased to show her garden.
If her caller cared to see:
I was filled with silent rapture
\t tin* sight which greeted me.
Everywhere, in gay profusion,
Garden pinks, a pansy bed.
Hollyhocks and yellow daisies,
Roses, golden, white and reel.
Beside the hill a willow tree
Sighs to the alder bending low,
| The mullein her velvet cheek
Lies on the grass, vervain aglow
Shoulders blue eyed the chickory,
A myriad violets throng my feet
All this my valley keeps for me.
The n-onster’s wrath, unleashened,
Now frothed with fury; bound
And fiercely belched, tormen’ed;
Just like a maddened hound.
It suddenly departed
With sanity restored;
Frustrated monster, smarted,
F’or sunlight was the lord.
There were liilies tall and stately,
Marigolds and mignonette,
In a symphony of color
1 can never quite forget.
How she smiled when asked the secret
Of her magic with the sod.
‘1 guess the flowers know l love ’em.
I’m in paitnership with God.
_ RITA FIELD GREENE.
MUSIC RIGHT SMART
The golden heart came peeping.
And spread i’s smiling light;
Then slowly twilight, creeping.
Came blending with the night.
—MARIE L. BLANCHE.
MARCH
All this, nay more, a panoply
Of glowing sky, of floating cloud.
Of unlight glinting on swift wings
Above broad slopes where pines dark-
browed
Clothc-1 in : ublimest majesty,
furry, helpless things:
my valley safe for me.
—HENRY E. BAKER.
Nest little,
This keeps
Last fall we gathered walnuts ut-.-i r
trees along the fence
That closes in the garden and house
that nobody rents.
When we came to the place, carrving
our basket and sack.
I stopped and looked at the orchard
and yard and the old shack.
A place o* desolation, it seemed, wi i
no one to care.
The walnut trees reached out ar<
limbs toward orchard trees
as bare;
They tried to touch their finger tips
for comfort in their grief.
To keep up hope till the coming of
birds and bloom and leaf.
PEACE.
Of all the lonely things there t!
house seemed to mourn the
most,
F’or it was once a home and of a
family could boast;
It leaned in its dejection now a it t
would like to fall.
Like an old person, feeling life i
spent, waiting the call.
March is a bully, a blustering bully,
F'ull of his noise and his threats.
Full of his colic, his whines, and his
howls.
Full of his weather upsets.
But now that we know what a bully
he is.
The overgrown bully and sham.
We carry a whip, and we crack it a
bit,
And the lion behaves like a lamb.
March
Music, right smart, played by little
Joe Hart
Has a tuneful, danceable style
That makes it really well worth-while.
All his singers are great, his band
. ie, too, has a personality and a sing- j 1 h~re n°
ing style
That makes all the listeners smile,
Tor Band-leader Joe always puts on
a good show.
DALE GUHL.
There is nothing so peaceful as
evening
Which comes to my farm.
The cattle all stabled for night—
Little pigs in the sty shut tight
Chicks cuddled and warm.
the
such beauty
my day.
as comes
oft wind at the dawn.
Yiilows greening along the creek—
Ja.ves frolicing. each fat and sleek
l free, not a pawn.
There’s something about an old
house, a something like a
ghost,
That clings to it and you feel tha
you might guess it. almost;
Still one wonders if the tale of o
house would be sad,
\ tragic tail of
lives kept glad.
—MALOY BYRNS.
•WAIT UNTIL ANOTHER DAY.
LAST ROUND
My last
■ickel’s in the
JERRY-GO-ROUND! O god
3f the merry-go-round, fling me the
■trass ring!
EDITH AN1SFIELD WOLF.
j There is no such content as that in
my heart
A’hen I plow and sow.
Green blades shooting up from the
ground—
Song of growing things all around-
Mv great peace bestow.
—WILMA MERRELL.
Whenever you feel like <1 1 g
thing mean
Just pause and repeat, if you can.
The Golden Rule that you learned in
your youth
When you were, perhaps, mm or
ten.
So when you are angry at
and his tricks
Remember how lamb-like he grows,
And how he lies down with his paws
in the air,
When you crack your whip under lus
nose. __
—J. E. ELLIOTT
GARDEN TAJ KS
i
j Then say to yourself, would I wan*
anyone
To cause me sorrow or pain:
But is that not what my act will do
And by it. what will I gain
WHO CAN FURNISH THE POEMS.
ARBOR DAY.
Manly, Iowa, Feb. 14, 1939.
Dear Editor:
I note many old songs in paper.
• l, » _ i l_ 1 .. . „ wnivtf fVlot II1 i I
What is more useful than the trees
F’or men and beasts, for birds and
bees?
Their food, or shelter, blessing all,
Through Winter, Summer, Spring, or
Fail.
Wherever we may chance to stroll
Their verdant beauty stirs the soul.
Such buoyant thrills their splendor:
yields
On city streets or country fields.
And therefore, men who aim to ,
please,
Enjoy tho ygis. :
I iiicxnv uiu -----
Will it be possible to reprint that old
it \ f 1 I «.l * ■, •> nil* * v il 1Y1 (I 1 .J 1 l't
song: "A Gill’s Demand”. Some part
THE PLEA
Mould me not like a tree . . .
Trees are blown away by hurri-
canes.
Mould me not like r rock . . .
Rocks a re worn av\ay by poui
rains.
goes like this:
“I demand all that is good and true.
All things a man should b<-; and l w ill
stake my life to be all demanded ef
me.”
Bov’s Reply:
“I stand at the bar of a woman’s pure
soul condemned in the cause that
you plead;
Mv only defense is judge me by mo-
tive net deed.”
I had an album of old songs which
was lost and I want to build up
another.
Yours sincerely.
W. G. TALBOTT.
Your paper contains more facts
than any other and faces them
■quare.
Out of appreciation for their com-
positions, Mrs. Flozari Rockwood
cent a copy of Wm. Allen IV ai d s
“Cactus and Stais” to Dale Guhl foi
• If 'n 1939”, published in February
Farming. She also sent Ina L. Mel
lichamp a copy of "Modern Bards in
appreciation of her poem, “1 Am At
Peace”. Mrs. Roekwood’s interest
and e-cncrosity is appreciated by us
all.
* * *
Oscar Dunn, Lawton, Oklahoma,
has our thanks for a copy of his tiny
jooKiet, "Rumblings and Roughage ,
being composed of prose and verse
selections from his writings.
V moment of revenge, oh. yes. it is
true
But after all, is revenge sweet?
Would you not rather a hearty
handshake
And a cheery 'hello' as you m*
For one enemy made we need ten
good friends
To aid us along Life's Highway;
■>o whenever we feel like iloin- ">ne-
thing mean
Whv not wait until anotht i .,••
—MARGARET E. MORSE.
MESSENGER
Mould me just a plain man . . .
A lover of the sod;
Let me love al. mankind
And pin mv faith in God.
—ANNE D. STANISICH.
If o -.r memory does not play us
Ise, *b ■ first porn' is Felicia Doro-
hy Hcmans’ poem, “A Woman’s
Juestion”. “The Man’s Reply” we
' ave fo"go‘ten. save for a hazy mem-
ry of having read them both wh»n
wo were living in a boy’s world. Who
will send the complete copies? —
Editor.
Mrs. Athie Sale Davis, 141 North-
east Park Place, Oklahoma City.
Oklahoma, announces that the 20tt
Annual Edition of the Davis Anthol
ogy of Newspaper Verse for 193$
will come from the press by April
1st. This edition contains 321 poems
by 311 poets, chosen from 109 news-
papers, and will sell for $2.00 if or-
dered in advance or $2.50 after
April 1st. Farming's contribut I'
are represented in the volume as 1<>1-
| lows: “Beauty”. Jessica Morehead
Young: “Cut and Dried”. Edith Anis
field Wolf; "Mv Friends”. William
Sheppard Spark's; “Neglected Field
M. Schaffer Connelly; "Planting
Time”, Kay McCullough; and “Ser-
vice”, Fletcher Davis.
The seed of Winter’s awakening wind
\ messenger swift, venturi
News of the quickening earth
bring.
Hark! to the muted whisper o'
Spring.
The warm breeze that scurri< s
Erstwhile, softly muted, now hurri*
From the Southland, whence it
tarried,
With the warm message it ra •
— LEILA WILLlilTL
DIVINE HARMONY
Songs
I Of the heart
Are finest when played
By souls with lives reflecting
i G0d. -—MAURICE MILL
■
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Davis, Fletcher. The Hondo Anvil Herald. (Hondo, Tex.), Vol. 53, No. 37, Ed. 1 Friday, March 24, 1939, newspaper, March 24, 1939; Hondo, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth563316/m1/7/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Hondo Public Library.