User:Michaelfoxworth/sandbox

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Ode to Ian
F​LIP TO PROLOGUE

B​y ALTALOMAN*

I​n the chill of January, comes warmth to our hearts

oh, how our mind harbors these thoughts tenacious

of winters past when we cherish your name, a trilogy of parts

that comes from Scottish Gaelic to remind us, “God is gracious”

He gave but fleeting moments to enjoy your manifold

goodness, kindness, honor, and grace for sixty seasons

and with what great intentions do we craft our canvas unsold,

a scrapbook of the events, times, and joy to account for these reasons

We consider many February footsteps in the wistful meadow

for this lingering ode, the final, tearful embrace when a sibling

whom you dearly loved and gifted your tender legacy, not sorrow

from a loving brother who thinks less of himself and values living

Though our hearts are irrevocably pierced by the pensive pause

of a poet’s creative block of words and rhyme that can’t justify

except for this, the month of love when we pen this because

not complete are twelve stanzas to show our esteem so high

When March arrived like a lion and left like a lamb, we

stay still, forlorn about what was, and now is fleeting,

wrapped in great, Laputan, brooding prose free

of stages when we could have spent many years repeating

A solemn prayer of thanks for the days we had in our years

of pleasure and merriment genuine and sublime,

although these are painful thoughts able to invoke tears

not just of sadness but also joy from time to time

In the company of your kindred spirit, not distant, but close

to the mantle of humanity; the April dreams of pending

summer scenes of warmth and balmy nights that impose

re-creation in our souls and give rise to our mending

Like the rising spring and a new season of birth hominine,

this day is borne with anticipation of some hopeful reuniting,

although the day and hour we cannot know but imagine

a life cut short here portends the milestones you missed

We must spend some May days just to give way to melancholy

unspoken passion, still hidden in the closet of our discretion

to give us delight as we may catch the point in denial of folly

and recall how and why your precious words remain our expression

Y​our class will graduate a time or two with you in absentia

but diplomas and degrees are mere expressions of passages

not disputing your posthumous honors as our ‘vincentia’

a champ for quality of life compressed into shortened pages

Like the scribe Leopold, we cannot discount these anniversaries

from the ides of June before and after there will be many

summer days we will muse about some possible series

of games or sports that with you we might have played plenty

And mark every 4th of July with a massive fireworks show

because shooting stars against the solid black sky

are a mirror image of how our thoughts come and

go in a kaleidoscope of visual bursts that pierce the why

But unanswered questions remain for long summer days

not to be spent in isolation or without the comfort of

still lingering interruptions of the fitting words and ways

you blessed us all with so many special hours of love

Now at the point of this ode like the hollow August nights

that makes silence a siren and sleep asunder

we awaken to some solace that certain wrongs and rights

of this refrain remain to be carefully scribed hereunder

B​ut summer will eventually be followed by the leaves of autumn

and days will begin to shorten just as we know so well

and daylight shrinks and chill falls upon the distant hills

random on the horizon of the landscape where our next memories dwell

Expectantly waiting for September with summer’s best

and autumn’s cheer, may we remember and not long forget

your boundless energy for each new day within our family nest

of which you remain the star estoile, shining brightly and yet

We seek, search, and find so many other fleeting memories

the places, times, and events we would never forget or

fail to pen, to faithfully advance the recollection of our abilities

to capture and tell the best of Ian in what was and came before

Peace like a river in a marvelous red, brown, and orange October fall

waiting for the coming winter surge, lingering for a token respite

as if this canvas will paint itself with brushes short and

tall we seem to be given a new voice of expression despite

What looks like a cobblestone avenue with scattered leaves

fallen in random places to and fro unprotected from bursts

of wind and rain that slowly rearrange what this tapestry revives

some winsome thoughts of another day of lasting firsts

Then November arrived in a rush of howling winds and driving rain

as if the cleansing drench of the downpour could remove or

wash from the scene any trace of this rhyme or verse in stanzas twain

about to be closed in archives, some titled, ohmygosh

This 11th month lies between ten and twelve, ending fall and

entré winter, as if we can delay a winter's dread

and the storms to follow, but there is time to take a stand

and seek cover from the winter frost, lest this rhyme go unread

Before the 12th month, that closing hour of December, when

we ask how did it get so late so soon, a question once asked by

Suess, but the answer is most obvious in this realm where Ian has been

since he was and is this closing chapter of the life we rejoice

Not that we can close what the Master Creator proclaimed,

nor end this archive of verses with any closing thoughts

better than once again via the moniker of Ian’s sweet name,

as he is the gift from the Scottish Gaelic, “God is gracious”

_________

* Mike Foxworth, a CANSWERIST® in SocialCurrentSee® __NEWSECTIONLINK__

The longest way ’round is the shortest way home
=== [A helper, sent by the Father to be our teacher, trustworthy memory aide, ['1'] covering our human faults so fully while teaching us to pray for the fruits of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; then he said to them, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit, the Helper Divine] ===

* Mike Foxworth, a CANSWERIST® in SocialCurrentSee®
Michaelfoxworth (talk) 19:52, 1 December 2022 (UTC)