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Come defend your God by Francis Conlon

[tabby title="Poem"] Across the great Middle Eastern plain, Riders came to bring the fight, Assured of victory in his Name, With passions burning a gem-hard flame, Maybe losing the soul's insight. Please let God do the mapping, Of souls that...

Children’s Dreams Can Last by Francis Conlon

[tabby title="Poem"] I'm told to put the dreams away, The time is over to play and run, Those child's views have had their day, Back then there was humorous fun. The wide range had the lone cowboy, Adults, I'm told,...

Old Bomb in April 2018 by Francis Conlon

[tabby title="Poem"] An April drama did raise all eyes, In Berlin soil, an old bomb appears, Not the first time but a surprise, An old war debt is in arrears. Treated now, it must be undone, Neutralized with respect and...

Grandparent’s Eyes by Francis Conlon

[tabby title="Poem"] There is indeed that gentle gaze, From the elder who saw no wrong, I recall now through history's haze, The grandparent who moved by gentle song. Myself, I'm there, as age does go, With eyes to select what...

Finishing Work at Dad’s Office, 1948 by Francis Conlon

[tabby title="Poem"] Finishing Work at Dad’s Office, 1948 Nobody smokes a pipe much any more, except my partner, Sand The musty aroma penetrates back to the engineer’s office, Dad’s workplace. Pipes filled the trays on the large, heavy oak tables....