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CLEAR CRYSTALS

The Press of Flozari, Pegasus Studios Box 5804, Cleveland, 1, Ohio 1946

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

We are grateful for permission to include certain poems which were first published in Reflections; Chipmunk; Scimitar and Song: Whispers; Calaveras Californian; Calaveras Prospect; Sunshine and Rain; Brown Plumes; Tulsa Tribune; Sonnets from Americanese: Fireside Chatter; Song and Story; The Arc; United We Sing; The Authors of Tomorrow; Garret, and Golden Leaves.

OTHER TORCHBEARER CHAPBOOKS

CLARA M. BEEDE

MOTHER'S PRAYER

For this new day, our Father, we give thee thanks. Thou hast blessed us with rest for our bodies, The glories of a new day are upon us, a gift from above. Let the light from heaven penetrate our souls, and may this be the best of our lives, we pray. Remember those less fortunate, dear Father, May some messenger of thine bring joy to their hearts today. Forbid we should shirk any duty coming our way, for we are thy servants and desire to do thy will. Our Dear Father thou hast blessed us with many dear ones. I pray thy blessing upon each one, especially our soldier boys That they may heed thy voice and follow thee as their great and true leader. Forbid, dear Lord, that any one of them be lost from the way in his search for the light. Go before them and let light from above make their pathway bright. Come into their hearts and give them the peace that no man can give, neither can take it away. I humbly ask these favors in Jesus name.

--KAY MCKEE

LET THERE BE PEACE

Let there be peace, let clouds and storm roll past, And budding groves burst forth in little leaves. When April showers flush the brooks and eaves; May gardens grow and wheat go flowing fast. Let there be peace on earth, that men may cast Their hatreds far away and gather sheaves Of golden days in patterns justice weaves; That sunset hours may glow with love at last, The atmosphere be filled with faith and light, No war, nor bombs, no words of discontent. Let there be peace on every hill and plain, That men may live and toil with hearts alight, That each may aid his brother in content. Let grasses grow and flowers bloom again.

WHAT IS THIS WISDOM

Remaining staunchly there in shriveled earth, The canna stood serene, refreshed by dew That silently, each cooling night anew Spread living gems to sparkle in their mirth. Beneath, the bulb lay proving well its birth-- A shower passed, the funnel leaves caught true-- The plant awoke with life and beauty too. And not a drop was wasted of the worth!

The bud refrained from coming into bloom, As though it waited for the lusty rain, With low leaves dried and drooping to the ground. What is this wisdom in all nature's room That fights to live and grow, and not in vain, But God, whose strength in all things may be found.

SOLDIER TRAINS

Hear the rumbling of the trains, Soldier trains. Ever droning, jarring, roaring on the rails Through the amber lights of dawn. Hear them rolling right along Now acoming and now gone, Iron wheel follows wheel, Round the bend of the river going strong.

They are taking our brave soldier boys To the barracks. Hear the thumping of the drums How they beat and beat and beat, In the morning and at night, Hear the tramping, marching feet, All in line stepping fine Hear the praying from the firesides down the street.

Hear the roaring of the trains, Speeding trains With the rumbling. Shouting home-boys off to war! Now they travel to far shores. See them waving their good-byes, There's the girl that Joe adores Waving hand, smiling band! Hear the laughter from the windows and the doors.

DEAR POSSESSIONS

A loaf of bread with a glass of milk With a roof that shelters and a restful bed, A place to wear the faded silk And a pillow for the aching head;

A kettle that sings while the night wind sighs, And a cup of tea to drink; A hearth to sweep and a babe that cries, With a pile of dishes in the sink.

A home to keep and a man to love, With a heart that is true and fine. These precious things sent from heaven above, Will be prized for yours and for mine.

THE UNBIDDEN TEARS

Glad tears that rush like rivers down the cheek Like gilding gold of morning's amber light. O happy hearts, by hearths when wills are meek! We welcome sun that chased away the night. The weeping eyes will not acknowledge hate. When lovers meet forgiven after pain, Tears cleanse the heart and mind of fire and mote, And freshen countenance and bleach the stain. O rain of peace, that washes doubt away, And casts a burden from the heart and home. Sad hearts in joy united on this day; Now buds will bloom again in garden loam. Glad tears that come unbidden thus and free Have banished care and brought you back to me.

THE PROMISE OF SPRING

Today resplendent in red, grays and gold, No wind disturbs the calm of Winter's rest, But quiet and serene on earth's broad breast Is shrub and bush and seed in loamy hold; The buds on elm are waiting to unfold, Our biddie hen wears crimson on her crest. This gorgeous day, when children laugh and jest, And run and dance and not a thought withhold.

For Winter's frost was gone at early noon. We know that Spring will come on southern breeze; The grass will green and roses bloom again. We love the flowers, summer warmth and boon, O joy of earth, in green and swaying trees, In buds and bees on this broad prairie plain.

THE DAYS LIVE AGAIN

O hallowed charm of long departed days; The good and bad blend in a sparkling stream. If one recalls youth's glad and care free ways; The distant roar of music is supreme, When viewing life's almost forgotten trail. There is a stream that twines its way about Through shady spots, by broken, rotted rail. The falling water glitters, and the trout, Again, like precious memories, flash and dart. Through bleak and cold, a precipice once crossed Still fills with pride and pain the aging heart; For time has now the thorns and rocks embossed, And thus the long dead past is always bright, For those whose sun is sinking into night.

ROLLING TRUCKS

Rolling over desert sands Steady there are dough-boy's hands. Gliding past the silver sage Caring naught for fame or wage; Rolling trucks for Uncle Sam, In his kit are bread and ham. Slipping over moon-lit dunes Humming low the old men's tunes. Every moment plays the game, Like an iron in a flame. Rolling over desert sands, Steady there are dough-boy's hands.

AT DUSK

A low blue cloud lies stretched beyond the trees, All quiet so. The chant of birds uplifts, And through the evening dusk a tremor sifts, The chill of night creeps close with turning keys, And darkness soothes each child. The daylight flees, Though many voices lend their artful gifts, And mingle with the city's murmured rifts. While twilight covers all with mysteries, There is the roll of train or army truck; A mother calls her three year old within. The most of us preparing for the night; Some go their way to labor for their luck, And others toil that we may rest or spin. God guards the whole until the morning light.

THE MORNING

The morning freshened with the dew of night, Was glad with crowing cock and singing bird; And through the mists came hope and kindly word. The east aglow with early amber light. As perking coffee roused the hungry sprite; Beside the hearth a friendly pussy purred, And in a crib a blue-eyed baby stirred, Awakened from sweet slumber of the night. O dawning! Here with all her usual charm. Another day to toil for child and friend, One hour to praise our God, while hatreds ebbed; To hope and live and succor from all harm Those weaker ones who know not how to fend, And cast a beam that lights their way ahead.

O RIVER BANK

I love to loiter by the old oak tree, Where waters ripple over clean white stones, And cresses, mint with feathered fern grown high. In such a place the peaceful thoughts will come; There is no hurry there where nature plays. Soft gentle breezes wave the grass and sedge; White fluffy clouds pass overhead and roll. Now dreaming, I hear the cricket's gay song. O river bank you charm me always so.

THERE WILL COME A DAY

There will come a day, sometime, When a bright light will shine through The clouds of darkness, sometime. And the grass will grow anew; Glad bells will ring at the dawn; And at noon great horns will blow; At evening fear will be gone; The home lights through dusk will glow. It will be a joyous day! And the earth will shout with laughter, When world peace is made, some day. We can hear the birds thereafter.

LATE AUTUMN

The fragrant autumn winds float painted leaves Across the plains at sunset's evening hour, A scarlet rose, a zinnia in the flower Stand brilliant there beneath the cottage eaves. The locust hums his song, the spider weaves His silken web in every shady bower, Where thunder clouds pile high in tumbled tower; The farmer's loft is bursting with great sheaves; And cornstalks bend with heavy golden loads, For rains have blessed the land the summer long. Now children trip on winding trails from school; They swing in rhythmic time along the roads; A hungry, hearty crowd, suntanned and strong. This glorious fall day in evening cool.

ALL HAIL RED CROSS

All hail Red Cross! White robes of light, all hail! On brave and noble brows the symbol shines. A cry for help is never called in vain, For these courageous ones go everywhere, On sea or land, in sun and stormy sky. They face all dangers--carry succor forth To save their fellowmen--with speed and skill The aid goes out to rescue friend and foe. They know no enemy but heed each call. A line is thrown to stranded waif or man. In flood they rush like water down the slope To bring relief to those who toss in waves. They care for mothers left to starve, alone. In pestilence, they labor long to soothe The fevered brow and ease the gnawing pain With medicine and shelter, food and clothes. In war the wound is dressed and duly nursed With gentle supple hands--with nourishment For mind and body. Cross of red, all hail! They serve for us most willingly and well. Then chide themselves when they have come too late! Like mothers when their sons have fallen short; In early dawn and through the night they toil. O God do bless this noble work of love; Let's give and further this most worthy cause. All hail Red Cross! White robes of hope, all hail!

OUR MORNING PRAYER

God our Father give us strength In these days of selfish strife, Let us smile amid the pain, Now to meet the care of life In the sunshine and in rain.

SOLDIER TO HIS MOTHER

Remembering those happy days of youth-- The earth was filled with gladness then, And you, dear Mother, taught me love and truth, Taught me to seek the best in men.

With heart full of faith and noble thought To bear my load and do good deeds. And cherish worthy things, the hope not bought, With visions for the living needs.

You said be honest with my God and soul, Devoted to my land and home, And all that men hold dear. In loyalty Respect and prize the fertile loam.

Today my country calls, she needs her son To fight the Japs and Hitler too. No coming back until the job is done. This is as honest men would do.

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