Volume Six

Volume Six: Volume six contains poems from the LOVE 2000 AD collection, written and revised by W. Diane Van Zwol and published previously on the Independent Nurses International web site, http://www.geocities.com/phded as individual pieces of poetry.

1. Ol' Friend

What pathway brought you home, Ol' Friend,
The road you trod that had no end?
What tender pasture did you graze?
How have you spent your younger days?
There's much about you I don't know
But still you have a certain glow.
Your quiet manner, gentle way,
Speaks more than any words might say.
'Twas Love that brought you here for me.
I see your peace, serenity.
In warmth of pasture's gentle sun,
I know you want to jump and run,
But time gone by forbids that joy
And other tasks that would employ.
The days of yours, soon winding down;
If you could smile, there'd be no frown.
You stand there contemplating still,
Your path of life and always will.
Within my soul and depth of thought,
I'll think about you as I ought.
So thanks for coming home, Ol' Friend;
God brought you round that stormy bend.
Together, we are safe and free
As destined from eternity.

2. Wee Laddie

The wee laddie marched on as he played.
Stalwart did he seem; to watch, I stayed.
The bagpipes were piping loud and clear;
Crowds began to gather close to hear.
His kilt swayed so gently in the breeze.
Ev'ry song he played, the crowd did please.
I thought as I saw him standing tall,
Surely Love inspired him, was his call.
The wee laddie played and marched along,
Round and round his stage with ev'ry song.
Now and then someone would wipe a tear,
As his music roused a mem'ry dear.
The melodies, yes, one that I heard,
Resounding as sweetly as a bird,
Showed me the wee laddie in each man,
Softly playing bagpipes in God's plan.

Published in 'The Sounds of Silence'
'The National Library of Poetry' anthology
1998

3. The Mist of Green Mantle

As you stand beside the river and you feel the misty breeze,
Try to let your spirit wander, wherever it might please.
Take a moment just to ponder and let history unfold,
The ancient Indian legend, the Ojibway tribe oft' told.
The chief of the Ojibway, Ogama Eagle was his name,
Had a daughter named Green Mantle, who was soon to come to fame.
A tall and graceful princess, with dark black eyes and jet black hair,
At seventeen, was a captive of the Sioux Tribe warring there.
While being forced to guide her captives, Green Mantle led the way,
Down the Kaministiquia River, toward her camp that day;
Seeming to betray her people, travelled to the waterfall.
Some say that she swam the river; some say that she gave her all.
Today the mist of Green Mantle speaks of Love of a rare kind,
Love that is so sacrificial, Love that one can seldom find.
In the mist above the water and the sky, yet one can see,
The spirit of the Princess, down the 'Old Road', flying free.

4. Artists and Poets and Lovers

Artist and poets and lovers, all three,
Dream of new hope in a land that is free.
The artist, a painter, encaptures the peace
The poet can find in poetic release.
The joy of a lover enraptured, so sweet,
Makes life in its fullness, seem ever complete.
Artists and poets and lovers, all three,
Treasure a blessedness, serenity.
The artist portrays from the depths of his soul,
The unspoken word in the poet's control,
That gives to the lovers who tenderly play,
The zest for new life in their quest, day by day.
Artists and poets and lovers, all three,
In our hurting world, each one needs to see.
What artists portray is what poets can speak
Of true lovers in love, with love at its peak.
What artists can draw, only poets can write,
But in it the lovers find greater delight.

Published in the anthology 'The Images of Time'
Poetry Institute of Canada
1997

5. There is a Gift That You May Give

There is a gift that you may give;
It's deep within your soul.
It is the one thing all man needs
In order to be whole.
It springs from love within your heart;
You feel it deep inside.
Compassion is that special gift;
In you, it does abide.
The race of man cries in his pain;
Each one can hear the cry.
In answer to his humble plea,
Please open wide your eye,
And see his need, that deepest need,
For what his heart still seeks.
When you allow your soul to move,
Then your compassion speaks.
Compassion is that unique grace
That you'll need someday too.
Oh share the gift, that you may give
And some may share with you.

Published in 'Best Poems of 1995'
The National Library of Poetry
1995

6. Sleep On, O Gentle Giant

Sleep on, O gentle Giant, while the morning breezes slumber;
If we would haste to count your days, the years, we could never number.
Sleep on, O gently Giant. Know early sunrise light will show
A new peace within each dawning, as Nanabijou love does glow.
Sleep on, O gentle Giant. Lake Superior's waters roll,
From high waves to little wavelets; its rhythm ever calms the soul.
Sleep on, O gentle Giant. You'll rest forever and a day.
So much joy you shall awaken, in morning's beauty you portray.
Sleep on O gentle Giant. Your myst'ry ever shall run deep;
Perhaps no one will ever know all the secrets that you shall keep.

7. The First Lady

Waikiki's first lady, this grand hotel,
On O'ahu Island, weaves its own spell.
'Moana', it stands on volcanic shore;
Tourists and limosines come by the score.
Tropical flowers and palms waving high,
All bid 'aloha' while waves roll on by.
Surfriding tradition...monarch's delight,
Gath'ring of people while surf's at its height.
Tall pillars standing, yet breezeway floors slant...
Palatial grandeur...but somehow one can't
Justify windows that stand at half mast...
Soft mournful breezes...war's shadow still cast.
An artist's portrayal of unspoken sound;
Architect's splendor...myst'ry all around.
Victorian elegance holding sway...
Verandah, spindles...grand piano play.
A banyan tree terrance, shaded white beach...
Extinction of monarchy...branches reach
Far back in history, ancient folk lore...
Hawaiian mem'ries erupting once more.

Sheraton 'Moana' Surfrider Hotel
Waikiki Beach, O'ahu
1901-2001

8. Speak Gently

For some women, life seems to be an ongoing battle.
It is like being locked into a reality
Where they are forever trying to swim upstream,
Against a formidable current in a raging river,
And where they are never really able to climb
Up onto the safety of the rocks,
Or when they swim and swim but can never reach
That ever elusive distant shore.
Each time one of these women appears
To be reasonably safe and secure,
Another terrifying reality arises for her.
Why should this kind of torment be allowed?
Who is there that will try to help these women?
Can anyone really intervene on their behalf?
There is one still small voice
Who will speak gently with Love.
He will say, "Be still and know that I am God."

9. Walk in the Light

Walk in the light of truth and of deed;
Walk as a leader, planting His seed.
Walk in the joy of purest desire;
Holiest passion, to that, aspire.
Walk in the peace that only God gives,
Telling of Jesus, that He still lives.
Walk in the grace of His presence here,
Knowing each moment, freedom from fear.
Walk in His Love while doing His will;
Work for His pleasure, your life to fill.

Published in the anthology "Treasured Poems of America"
Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum, Inc.(Fall)
1996

10. Perhaps Love's Best Answer?

The waters of the lake never seem to stop moving,
Not even on the quietest day.
There is a continual lapping of the waves.
Sometimes the waves touch the shore very gently;
At other times they pound relentlessly on the rocks.
But bit by bit, the rocks are reduced in size.
Perhaps love's best answer to what ails man,
Lies in the continual lapping of the waves?

11. I Shall Not Live in Fear and Dread

I shall not live in fear and dread,
But reach out a hand of friendship instead.
I know "perfect love casts out fear"
And caring friends can help dry ev'ry tear.
Though war may rage all around me,
I know that our God, shall my comfort be.
Bombs may be bursting in the night,
I never shall give in to fear or fright.
I pray that man may live in peace
And that all warfare shall evermore cease.
Life is sacred; this I believe.
The fullness of blessings, I shall receive.
True freedom lies in seeds we sow;
The good ones we plant continue to grow.