where fancy led" is a collection of poetry with roots in the rolling hills of West Virginia. It blooms and blossoms from my travels and imagination. Writing has been a lifelong pursuit and poetry my literary love. I don't know what you will think or feel as you read; what is important is that you feel! The beauty of poetry is the wide range of emotions one feels while reading a poem. I have delighted in many moments caught up in wordplay and hope that you share the magical flights with fancy while reading my poems.
where fancy led
A COLLECTION OF POEMSBy Jean Boggs BakerAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2011 Jean Boggs Baker
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4634-0021-7Contents
Foreword.............................................xivIntroduction.........................................xviiAcknowledgments......................................xixIndex of First Lines.................................209
Chapter One
Love, Friendship and Family
Heartbreak
* * *
Curse, – cry languish – wait –
Love left me behind.
I bemoaned my fate,
Being young and blind.
Then a dear old aunt of mine,
Compassionate, and serious,
Said regrets are out of line.
She told me this, and told me thus –
"Be happy, darling, and be gay.
Don't give your foolish heart away.
Never, never sit and pout,
Wear your dancing slippers out.
There are plenty of fish in yonder lake."
And quickly I did land one!
I relinquished my heart, and it did break –
Now sorrow's my companion.
The Follies of Youth
* * *
Love's stealth caught me by surprise.
Blinded by my lover's sighs,
I stole from my Arcadian vale,
Where faith, hope, and charity prevail.
High on Wings of Love we sped,
Following where fancy led,
Living on love, frolic, and thrills,
Dreaming of El Dorado's hills.
We built lofty towers in Spain,
Where love and joy and beauty reign,
Towers that reached the firmament,
Until joy became discontent.
When the embers of our love were dead,
To my Arcadian home I fled,
Where faith, hope, and charity live on,
But the innocence of youth is gone.
How much more will I have to pay
For fiddling precious life away?
I know, from the wisdom granted me,
That charity is not always free.
Did I not stand by my window last night
And see, outside, by the moon's hazy light,
Folly's ghosts looming in the air,
And the old piper waiting there?
All my courage I must gather,
Although I would really rather
Relive the follies of my youth
Than face the mirage-lifted truth.
Love's Traitor
* * *
Nothing's as sweet as a secret romance,
Until you are faced with doubts;
Then you sigh for reassurance
Or resort to jealous pouts,
For that euphoric rapture
That every lover knows.
Doubt is love's traitor
And grief is what it shows.
The Concept of Love
* * *
When I adopted Anna Lee,
It was obvious as could be
That each of my other three
Were consumed with jealousy.
(Oh, for an olive branch or dove!)
Gathering candles, my children round me came,
And were given one, lit by the mother flame.
(Stilling the green-eyed monster was my aim.)
Comparing the flame to mother love,
Was an inspiration from above!
They noticed how each flame
Was exactly the same,
And with wide-open eyes,
Each one could visualize
The concept of love.
Yet, when Christmas came
They forgot the flame,
Becoming little calculators,
Tallying up their gifts and favors –
Push had come to shove!
A Love Story
* * *
There once was this couple,
Or so I have been told,
Who remained good friends,
Though their romance grew cold.
The lady vacationed in Greece
With some of her friends,
This is how the story begins, and
This is how it ends:
Pictures that they took
Were placed on Facebook.
The young man saw her picture there,
The girl with the flaming red hair!
He was ever gallant and bold,
And so he called his friend of old,
And asked if he could meet somewhere,
That girl with the gorgeous red hair.
She liked what she heard about him,
But all the same,
He had at one time been
Her friend's old flame.
It was a surprise when he called
Out of the blue,
And she answered the phone
Before she knew.
Melissa liked talking to Matthew, so
He called when he had a chance,
And this was the beginning
Of a long distance romance.
She lived in one state,
And he in another,
So they had to make plans
For meeting each other.
They met in proud Charleston,
That southern town by the sea,
And later they decided
That's where their wedding would be.
In the end, I was blessed with
A new grandson,
And they now have
a little one!
When I Was Feeling Down
* * *
When I was feeling down,
I donned a pretty gown
With ruffles to caress my throat,
And thumbed through poetry of note.
Then into the fire, I did stare,
Rocking in my favorite chair,
Vanquishing the way of tears –
All the hurts of yesteryears.
I began to rock and rock,
Rising when I heard a knock –
My great grandsons came trooping in,
Each, with a mischievous grin.
"Tell about the olden days," they say,
And all my sadness was washed away.
We talked about all kinds of things –
Wild strawberries and grapevine swings!
We discussed Biblical stories like Noah's ark,
And Jonah in the belly of a whale or shark;
About Elijah's cave on Mt. Carmel,
In the days of Ahab and Jezebel.
How Elijah could raise the dead
And bring down fire from overhead.
How he departed in a chariot of fire
And ascended into paradise or higher!
As the evening quickly wore on,
We discussed ancestors long gone.
Children love to hear stories of old,
Or at least, that is what I've been told.
The hour was late, when I heard the clock chime
And I saw it was way past their bedtime.
As they were leaving, the boys said,
"Say your prayers and go to bed."
Her Letter
* * *
At the time, he could hardly believe
That his love had gone like that –
They moved away when her mother
Married an aristocrat.
The mailman handed him her letter
On the way to his boat,
He is puzzling over it,
For this is what she wrote:
I have only a minute or two
To write this little missive to you.
I'm on my way to the Autumn Ball,
(Where my mother has bedecked the hall),
Wearing jewels beyond compare,
With a tiara in my hair,
And, Ray, I know you would simply love my gown –
It's from the most exclusive boutique in town.
Why am I thinking of you today,
When you are thousands of miles away?
I've been seeing Bill Barton's son –
He will go far they say,
So how can I tell everyone
That I'm smitten with Ray?
Ah, Ray, do you remember when
I promised to wait for you?
I was only seventeen,
And you had turned twenty-two.
You called me your honey,
Even though I love to dance and flirt,
And you told me if I waited
I would be yours when you struck pay dirt.
All I have ever wanted, Ray –
Wanted all my life,
Is to live on Fisherman's Bay,
And to be your wife.
Of course, money and riches are grand,
So is walking barefoot on the sand!
I will have to close in haste,
I have no more time to waste!
My date is on the stair –
I left him waiting there.
The Red Shirt
(Aviation Ordnanceman)
* * *
My son-in-law is a man among men,
He started working at the age of ten.
In the summer he worked from dusk till dawn,
Tending pigs on the farm he worked upon,
Sometimes helping the mamas give birth
Or helping the farmer plow the earth.
Growing up in Lancaster, PA,
He always dreamed of getting away.
He joined the navy at seventeen,
To see the sights he had never seen.
In '66, went through Boot Camp at Great Lakes,
Showing the Navy that he had what it takes.
Proudly wearing a red shirt with a flaming "piss-pot,"
Loading 2,000-lb bombs on planes for their cat shot.
Drinking coffee laced with JP-5,
Kicked those Ordies into overdrive!
If You Ain't Ordnance You Ain't Sh.., he'd say,
Bombs are coming up from the Hanger Bay!
From seaman recruit, as an ordnance handler,
Advancing through the ranks to a full commander!
Retiring after serving his country for thirty-five years,
On to SAIC to support Tom-a-Hawk for a few years.
Since the Pentagon was still under construction
From 9-11 and Al-Qaeda's terrorist destruction,
It was off to Crystal City he decided to go –
A new government job working for the CNO!
Terry worked with pigs at the age of ten
And he is back working with pigs again –
The pigs are precision strike weapons now,
They are the Flying Pigs of JSOW!
An Accolade to My Sister, Lee
* * *
Steeped in solitude, I write this loving accolade
To a sister, whose inward beauty shall never fade!
Her name is Leoma, but we call her Lee,
And she is one of the best in our family.
When you need someone to listen, someone to care,
You can depend on her! She will always be there!
She can dance the Charleston, and the Wiggle Toe,
And she is always busy and on the go.
She loves travel, music, and art,
And when she gives, it's from the heart.
She is witty, and bright, and always a lady,
And she looks damn fine for a gal just turned eighty.
Echoes of the Past
* * *
Echoes of the past haunt me now and then,
Echoes louder than thunder,
That tear my heart asunder.
Echoes of the past are haunting me again!
I'm drowning in the sea
Of a happy memory,
Feeling so lonely,
It heightens the pain,
And resembles joy only,
As tears resemble rain.
It was I, who chose to walk away,
Oh, so heartbroken and sad –
I'd give anything for yesterday
And all the dreams we had.
How can I forget the past,
And let my heart soar free?
"By giving up dreams so vast,"
The echoes answer me.
The Fool
* * *
The fool looked me straight in the eye,
Promising a sweet tomorrow –
And crossed his heart and hoped to die.
An even bigger fool am I,
If I ask for pain and sorrow.
Other promises were not kept,
Leaving me sad and forsaken,
I wept as I had never wept,
And night had gone before I slept:
Oh, it's sunny now I waken!
Jealousy nipped the bud too soon,
And let our romance go awry.
I slept away each day till noon,
To wake beneath a winter moon:
At last – at last – no tears to cry!
Once more to laugh, once more to sing,
To pet the dog, and tease the cat,
To forget about everything;
Finding hope in an early spring
And learning to give tit for tat!
Love's Sad Song
* * *
I put my first love on a pedestal,
Until he had a fall,
And found solace in
Women and alcohol.
My next loves were like him,
Other than their looks,
That's why I buried myself
In my romance books.
None are so blind
As those who cannot see,
So I've given up crying woe
To live vicariously.
The Man I Love and the Man Who Loves Me
* * *
The man who loves me,
I can clearly see,
Is a fine upstanding gentleman,
A man of solid worth.
The man I love is a wandering man,
A gypsy since his birth.
He tells adventurous tales of China,
Sojourning near the sea,
And Scotland where the Queen
Invited him to tea.
The man I love has many
A fine tale to tell.
The man who loves me is staid,
And boring as hell!
Sometimes I really think
Love is just a curse;
Hurting the man who loves me
May be even worse!
Change of Heart
* * *
This I say, and have said before,
I'm through with love forevermore!
Let other fools moan and cry,
When their lovers say good-bye.
I'm not one to sit and sigh
Over love – and that's no lie.
I met a new man the other day,
And he's interesting in his way.
Perhaps I'll try to catch his eye.
About my vow, who cares? Not I.
A change of heart, I'm positive,
Is a woman's prerogative!
Champagne Wishes
* * *
Champagne wishes
And fantasy dreams,
Happy with – or
Without me it seems.
You'd keep me safe
On an island somewhere,
And visit –
When you had time to spare.
Always longing –
Longing for what?
You are adventurous
And I am not.
Another fancy?
Gamble – replace –
The older with
A newer face?
I – here –
And you – where?
Oceans to swim
If you care.
Rumors
* * *
With head held high, midst whispers false or true,
She did not weep, and her face held no frown.
Shadows smoldered deep in those eyes of brown,
Giving credence to gossip, rumors flew –
Loving her valiant soul, beauty, and grace,
Her husband then – his face a thundercloud,
Believed in her innocence – clear and loud –
For sorrow's toll was written on her face.
Murmuring low, she told him how love had fled –
That she had looked for him by plane and car
While he hid in space, above moon and star –
Thus, she did go, and that is all she said.
For My Grandson
* * *
Your warm heart – so loving and giving –
Valiant spirit and zest for living,
Make you a Grandson to be celebrated!
You fill my life with joy – I am elated,
And hope your birthday dreams come true,
Even though you may have a slew.
The Red Hat Society
* * *
In anticipation,
Faces aglow,
Arrayed in purple and
A red chapeau.
Playing dress-up
For an afternoon tea –
Partying with
The Red Hat Society!
Ladies in their Red Hats,
Greeting everyone,
Gathering for friendship and nurturing,
Gathering for fun!
Making friends with time,
Finding autumn is delight,
Freed from responsibility
Without feeling so uptight;
Coming to realize
The setting sun,
Is more exquisite than
The rising one!
A Stricken Heart
* * *
She stood before the church of her childhood,
And after staring for a span,
Said, "I shall never at your altar stand
And exchange vows with any man."
Her heart was filled with despair,
She bit back a bitter sigh –
There, railing against a faithless love,
Howled her anguish to the sky.
It was with a stricken heart,
She bid her love adieu.
She believed the whispering tongues,
Until they proved untrue.
She listens to that lonesome whistle,
As it echoes down the track,
When he left he took her heart,
And he never gave it back.
Their love is gone forever,
And will forever go unblessed,
Though she settled for another,
Grief weighs heavy upon her breast.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from where fancy ledby Jean Boggs Baker Copyright © 2011 by Jean Boggs Baker. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
