by Marshall Jamison
Missus Eaton made doughnuts for breakfast
For Oren and me. I loved her doughnuts
And so did he.
Oren was a big man, a sailing man,
Just home from the sea,
And I was a tad who climbed on his knee.
Between us two, who ate the most?
Well, after a dozen or more —
He had French Toast!
Dreams are okay
as long as they pay.
That man is rich
who has a scratch
for every itch.
by Marshall Jamison
At about ten years of age or so, I heard Robert Frost
recite his poetry aloud
for what, it seemed to me to be a most attentive
and respectful crowd
in Harvard Yard, a meeting place of those who
search for knowledge,
the brick-lined mecca that surrounds much of
Harvard College.
He read quickly without emphasis that might
have been revealing
and his words belied emotion which I thought
he must be feeling.
by Marshall Jamison
I got lost on the Boston Post Road
It’s a lonely coast road —
But it led me home.
My old friend, Sally Benson wrote that fragment of verse, and as a New Englander born, I have held it in my memory for over forty years. Brilliant, star crossed, tragic, but oddly magnificent, she hurled her challenge to the world:
If you can, come on and knock me down
and it could and did!
As one of her last courageous and rewarding efforts she adapted an F. Scott Fitzgerald story entitled “Josephine” for Broadway, retitled there, “The Young and Beautiful.” When reviewed by the distinguished Herald Tribune critic Walter Kerr, he described it “a perfect production.”
###
Now overcoming my fear and trembling, which if you had known Sally you’d understand, I’m presuming to preface those three remembered New England lines with three of my own.
Tall pines lined the empty highway that stretches along
the rock bound shore.
My little grey mare whinnied shrilly when she heard
the rough surf roar.
As the evening dusk quickly darkened into moonlit night
I got lost on the Boston Post Road
And it’s a lonely coast road
But it led me home.
by Marshall Jamison
Longfellow and Lowell and Stephen Vincent Benet
Penned many a stirring roundelay
Of the glorious days of our nation’s rise
And leaders they chose to aggrandize.
Down misty corridors of time
Our poet, John Neihardt, celebrates in rhyme
Heroic men who dare to share a dream
Giants in the earth answer to his theme.
Those gallant, resourceful mountain men
Whose like we’ll rarely see again
Jedidiah Smith and brave Hugh Glass
Who found real splendor in the grass
Were two whom he wrote of with deep respect
When you read his poems you recollect
That he followed travelers on these great plains, high
Where far horizons meet the sky and he sang
Of warriors and wanderers through this vale of tears
Who met with, fought and overcame their fears
Of lonliness, failure and bitter strife
As they worked to fashion a better life
Who saw the world as they’d have it be
Where every man is strong and free
And believes in his heart that he can do
Something to make that dream come true.
by David W. Boles
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