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E. S. von Gehren "To write is to reveal who you are." Williamsburg, VA 23188 vonGehren@verizon.net

To write is to reveal who you are (unless you write for the government). Poetry is that form of linguistic expression which is most structured by the personal psyche. It has a way of tapping the inner most constructs of the author as a unique being, to select its expression and spirit.

So it is with my poetry - even as expressed in the title of this collection. For it is this verse which reveals the connections I have between my inner world of feelings and self knowledge, and that outer world of people, situations, and things which interact with me.

That beautiful child still lives -

rolling down the hill of lush grass,
laughing in the wind of a summer storm
brewing in the darkened clouds.

The joy to be found in the mirth of that child,

when about her the clouds roll and the sky crackles,
is still there.

Others look and see only the wrinkles,

to her they're part of the countryside,
just the hills and valleys of reflected life.

That beautiful child still lives - within.

Note: This is a poem I wrote (April '87) for, and about, my mother. It is a comment on youthful feelings in an aging body. She had been in poor health for a number of years, and though well into her 70's still had the desires of a young girl to roll down a grassy hill, just once more. It pickes up the joy she had as a child rolling down the hill. (It was probably all the more joyful and freeing because it was doing something she would have gotten scolded for, had it been known.) That simple pleasure of the child rolling down the hill was more than just memory, though she was well into her 70's when I wrote this, because it is just this sort of emotional experience which she, and all of us, carry with us forever.

I hope it strikes deep remembered feelings in you as it did in me when writing it.

Broken rhythm, broken rhyme.

Verse expressing thoughts on time.

Time gives life to passing acts,

And builds upon existing facts.

But is it really there at all,

Or is it just a thing we call

The Passage of Time.

Watch it come, watch it pass

What's to watch, you well may ask.

It isn't real, it isn't there

And yet it's here, it's everywhere.

But is there really such a thing,

Do our moments really bring
 
The Passage of Time.

She was the sweetest little girl, and he was the shyest boy,
He wished to tell her how he felt, but she was always coy.

And in his youthful brush with love, he did not understand,
These feelings of a boy for girl repeat throught time and land.

He thought if all the other guys knew he was thus beguiled,
They'd surely laugh and poke at him, with stories mean and wild.

For shyness overcame the love within this youthful lad,
To tell her with a Valentine, the feelings that he had.

Just looking throught the shop's display, brought pink flush to his face,
The mushy cards were not his choice; he retreated in great haste.

He must then fashion by his hand, the words that he had sought,
And could not find just suitable, a card that was store bought.

Now card in hand he sought her out, as if the whole world knew,
Now face to face he spoke her name, an act most hard to do.

He mustered up a little smile, then with the greatest might,
He handed her the envelop, he hid just out of sight.

All Wrapped in plastic lacy stuff, and colored deepest red,
WON'T YOU BE MY VALENTINE, the perky greeting said.

She smiled a smile to melt his heart, a thanks he could not miss,
Then with a child's innocence she gave the slightest kiss.

If love in truest form is thus, with clear intent so free,
All love should be as pure as this, as is this poem from me.



E. S. von Gehren
February 14, 1996

When springtime comes across the hills,
and sprinlkes them with daffodils,
 
When sunshine smiles upon the earth,
and gladens each day bright with mirth,
 
When nature sheds its winter clothes,
and reawakes the life that grows,
 
Across the earth it's time to say,
A VERY HAPPY EASTER DAY.



E. S. von Gehren
Easter 1984

Now that Winter's gone away,
Now that Spring has come to stay,
Now that nature's creatures play,
The world is singing Easter.
 
With cheer and gladness all around,
With words of love and joy that sound,
With thoughts for others may be found,
The world is singing Easter.
 
When acts of love show through the year,
When reverence overcomes our fear,
When old foes are now held as dear,
The world is singing Easter.
 
It's more than just the sunny days,
It's something in the cheery ways,
It's in our love of life that says,
The world is singing Easter


E. S. von Gehren
Easter 1984

Early bird singing at the morning light,
 
Astors nodding in the breeze of weather's change,
 
Sun calls to life a brand new day,
 
This is the start of a new beginning,
 
Everything is fresh and alive,
 
Renewing life and the love of it all;
 
It is Easter Morning.


E. S. von Gehren
Easter 1986

Early spring came our way, riding a balm of sun warmed breeze.
 
Announcing what looked like winters break and the start of summers rebirth.
 
Snow followed. Chilled winds nipped at the buds and sent flower heads nodding.
 
Too soon our rejoycing; nature abhors premature celebration.
 
Everything has its own time; summer days were not yet come.
 
Resurrection must await the herald of Easter.


E. S. von Gehren
Easter 1990

Run around the garden; Frolic in the hay;
Roll a chocolate Easter egg, On this Easter Day.
 
Smile at the flowers; Grin at the sun.
The joy in Easter giving is
The essence of the fun.
 
Look beyond the season; Beyond the gift I've borne.
Look what Easter spirit brings,
On this joyous morn.
 
Spread your arms and take it in; Embrace the love it brings.
When nature opens up her heart;
The Easter season sings.



E. S. von Gehren
Easter 1993

The daffodils are pushing up
green tongues to lick the sunlight;
 
Their faith that frost is gone for now
and winter taken flight.
 
I share their joy in springs return,
when gentle breezes blow;
 
Soft falling rain renews their life
and quickly melts the snow.
 
The light of life and warmth shines out
upon my naked kiester;
 
I wear my finest birthday suit
and wish you Happy Easter.


E. S. von Gehren
Spring 1994

Gray skies and heavy days.
Where is the sun: Where is our joy?
Where is the promise of spring?
Even the daffodils droop.
 
It is told, and I believe,
This shall pass, and love prevail.
This is the season of love, the season of hope.
Forgiveness is ours to have.
 
Daffodils will raise their heads.
Spring will show its promise.
Sun will brighten the day,
Lighten the sky, restore our joy.
 
The promise is ours to have;
In our hearts; in our love.
In our hopes and thoughts we create,
The joy of Easter that fills us all.


E. S. von Gehren
Easter 1996