The year nineteen twenty seven,
On a cold November night,
A dedication took place here,
Its tribute fitting and right.

A new town hall with clock and bell
Electra Webb had gifted
In memory of her family.
Our town’s burden was lifted.

For years, the old Seth- Thomas clock
Would chime each passing hour,
But with age the clock and brass bell
Had inconsistent power.

Soon weary of the bell’s ringing
minutes too early or late,
We stopped the pendulum swinging,
Technology sealed its fate.

Decades later our clock is fixed.
Again, its hands move on time.
Accurate to the second now,
With its bell to strike and chime.


Tis the soft glow of candles,
It’s the scent of balsam fir.
It’s the pure white snow that falls,
That a cold north wind does stir.

It’s the crackling fire
In a fireplace at night.
It’s the taste of hot chocolate
And baked warm cookies in sight.

It’s the twinkling of lights
That are strung inside and out.
It’s in the joy of giving
That Christmas is all about.

It’s wishing neighbors and friends
Tidings of peace, health and good cheer.
It’s not just for this season,
But each day through the whole year.

Wishing you happiness and blessings
in the new year.


I have walked in fields of clover
And shared my time with the trees.
Listened to the sounds of nature,
Felt the touch from gentle breeze.

I’ve looked down on rolling meadows
From a hilltop high above.
Reminisced of my youthful days
That I keep fond memories of.

I have watched the sun disappear
Behind distant mountain range.
I have watched dark storm clouds gather;
Sensed inevitable change.

If all I ever had was lost
And my maker I would face,
I would give thanks for the journey,
For the chance to run the race.



This morning I went to the forest
To visit a place that I know.
I call it “chapel in the woods”,
When I’m troubled, It’s where I go.

Great hemlocks towering to the sky.
Their canopies grown together,
Give shelter to those that linger here
From that of inclement weather.

While resting my back against hemlock
I ponder my thoughts of this day.
Sharing space with flora and fauna,
Listening to what is conveyed.

The choir is made up of songbirds
That sing to a cool Autumn breeze,
And rustling leaves in the tree tops
Have only the forest to please.

I came for solitude and silence
And companionship of the trees.
I leave with a peace in mind and heart.
A gift from the birds and the breeze.


Tis only the sound of crickets
And screech of a red tailed hawk,
A breeze to stir the old oak leaves
That welcome me on my walk.

Shades of green in rolling meadows,
The scent of clover nearby,
Where monarchs dance with up swept wing
Wait for last nights dew to dry.

I found a road less traveled on
That winds between hardwood trees,
And therein waits, those shades of green
That seldom a walker sees.

These sounds, these scents and these colors
Home to all that search and find.
A gift to those that understand
This is peace for all mankind.

Our Goal

Is it not our goal in life
To be happy – to be free?
Not to be just content,
But be all that one can be.

A need to be successful,
The road to riches fast,
But know in the end
It’s guaranteed not to last.

Let patience be your virtue,
With sunrise meditate.
In silence be receptive,
In silence learn to wait.


I stopped by one summer day
Down at the village green,
Just to watch the flag there wave
And what those colors mean.

Thought about what it stands for
Colors red, white and blue.
Thought about where she’s traveled.
The battles she’s been through.

Her red, symbol of valor,
White stands for purity,
The blue, for perseverance,
A sign of unity.

Though she’s a little tattered
And showing signs of wear
Still waves with grace and honor
After all she’s had to bear.


With crescent moon low in the sky
A million stars would begin to light.
Peace settled over calm waters;
The loons quieted down for tonight.

Shadows of the trees are mirrored
Along the shoreline across the way,
And the night falls as a curtain
Bringing to a close another day.


Though things are a little different
And we’ve had to change our ways.
Hours pass a little slower,
A week seems to have more days.

There are some things I’ve noticed
That has remained still the same.
And even on my darkest day
Just like an old friend, they came.

I can hear the song birds singing,
I can see clouds drifting high.
I can smell the scent of wildflowers
On my walks when passing by.

The moon and stars still light the sky
After the sun has retired.
And I will pause to reflect on
All the “GOOD THINGS” I’ve admired.


We sat quietly side by side
On top of Mount Philo’s peak.
We watched the Summer sun go down
Leaving behind it’s orangie streak.

So many times we’ve shared this view
With the butterflies and birds.
Taking pictures with our cameras
Sharing feelings without words.

We used to speak of our old jeeps
And our journeys of the past,
From Bermuda to Las Vegas

So many things you’ve accomplished.
A great auto body man.
Your artistic skills were the best
With a strong and steady hand.

I’m thankful for time together.
Fond memories spent with you.
Though no words need pass between us,
We’re still buddies through and through.