Old Pete, a Mighty Hunter Before the Lord - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Old Pete, a Mighty Hunter Before the Lord

A cigar box of childhood photographs
And there he is, that mighty courser – Old Pete
Thunder-Tail-Thumper, pal of barefoot boys
Chaser of rabbits and tasty table scraps

Always up for a ramble to the pond
In the day-dreamy midsummer heat
Where I pole-fished for perch, and good old Pete
Drowsed in the shade, and looked at me with love

I buried him under his favorite oak
Where, with eternity, he waits for me

"And Did You Wash Behind Your Ears?" - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

“And Did You Wash Behind Your Ears?”

Why should I do that? I can hear all right
And I can’t see behind my ears anyway
I never use my ears for work or play -
I’ll just give them a washrag-wash tonight

Why is that old woman talkin’ at me
I wasn’t botherin’ that bossy old cow
Ain’t none of her busy beeswax anyhow -
I wish all them women would let me be

Old women asked if I washed behind my ears -
So long ago –
                        I kinda miss the nosy old dears

Kirbyville - The Santa Fe Depot - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Kirbyville - The Santa Fe Depot

I loved to sit and watch the trains go by
As they blew smoke and steam into the sky

Or sometimes paused beneath the water tower
And sat there on the siding for an hour

The crew in overalls to the café
Hamburgers and coffee most every day

They swaggered back along our old Main Street
Important working men with schedules to meet

The whistle blew, the steam escaped, the train
Breathed heavily, and lurched and clanked to gain

Escape from our small town, then down the line
A tunnel through forests of oak and pine –

In dreams of boyhood, through memory’s eye
I love to sit and watch the trains go by