Coyprighted material of C.H. Green

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Wednesday, December 05, 2012

For William Harold Yates


Dear Billy,
A late night train blew through
And I remembered Casey Jones—and you.
“Mr. Yates, I presume,” I had said when we met;
“Indeed, Ms. Green.” Oh, I’ll never forget.
White squirrels of Kenton and Crockett’s mother’s grave.
Mel Brooks and Birmingham and the great levee save.
There was only one man in that barbershop quartet
Who with one gentle kiss could make me forget.
You know the answer to the question now
And at least I do in part--
You were put here on this earth for me--
To mend my broken heart.
--C.H. Green @ November 7, 2011

A Memorial Poem

Sweet William's Requiem

“You can’t see him,” was what they said,
And thus my heart crumbled like day old bread.
“But I have to, I have to say goodbye,” I pled,
“You can’t. He’s gone. He’s long since dead.”
Weeping I struggled to make some sense
The voice on the line, words did not mince—
And all the phrases were in past tense.
“He fell…he was…he lived…he died”—
To hear the news, I cried and cried.
Never at the altar will I stand by his side,
Always the bridesmaid, but never the bride.
So I sat by my parents’ graves that day
And said all the things I needed to say.
I prayed the prayer I wanted to pray—
And Irony of ironies—I gave him away. –C.H. Green @11/2011

Saturday, August 18, 2012



In her Father's eyes will always be,
For He's the King of Kings.  She's royalty.

--C.H. Green @2012

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

For Linda— 

His Spirit in her honors His name-- 
She lights the temple with the flame. 
Selfless and smiling—that sweet Swedish smile 
That beckons you in to sit for a while. 
 She lifts heavy hearts, she comforts, she prays.
She teaches His servants the Master’s ways. 
And when her shepherd takes Christ overseas,
 The faithful wife then falls on her knees. 
 She prays for his safety, for souls to be won,
 As she is home doing what needs to be done. 
She’s a leader, a mother, a friend, and his wife,
Anointed by God to bring hope and bring life.
 Heaven sees her a warrior, brave, tall, and true. 
And to think, she’s just “Sister Linda” to you.

 (With love from C.H.Green@2011)

Wednesday, June 15, 2011


I am saddened by your loss--
I know there is a void
That no one else can fill.
I know that are you lost,
And filled with grief that is beyond
What you can possibly tell.
I just wanted to tell you
That I am here. I care--
That there is a place
Beyond your sorrow
And sunshine awaits you there.
Someday sweet memories
Will make you smile again.
And though the pain will linger,
You will hug that moment to your heart
And learn to breathe again.

Copyright 2005 C.H. Green

Just Because--

Because I have memories of you
Making me breakfast
And tying my shoes
And brushing my hair--
Because you fed me,
Clothed me, loved me,
And taught me to be a lady--
Because you had faith
That I could become
Anything, and nudged
Me out of the nest
When it was way past time--
Because you held me
After I made my mistakes
And listened to me cry--
And loved me just the same.
For all this and so much more
I thank you Mom.
I hope I always make you proud.

Happy Mother's Day
Copyright 2005 C.H.Green

Friday, May 20, 2011


Black bile boils up in your throat

Wanting to spit, you start to choke

On all the wrongs unjustly received--

As jealous hands connived and deceived;

Your stomach rolls at the thought that they

Abused your trust and walked away,

And they now hold the golden key

While you lie wasting in misery.

--C.H. Green©2005


Poison paranoia.
Diagnosis: Imbalance
Of chemical origin.
This revealed in voices
All too real from doctor's lips.
I hear the words, but deny
Their meaning.
Not me, not mine...
“We're fine,” I say, stumbling
Over scientific nomenclature
Like marbles scattered
Along my path.
Unsuspecting of such
I am defenseless.
I cannot stop reeling
From these terrifying thoughts.
Delusional. Manageable.
Incurable. Inevitable
Breaks from reality...
He drones on and on.
And I wonder if this
Is how it feels....
This deluge of conflict
Flooding over the mind
And drowning out what is real.


My Heart

My Heart--calls me softly sometimes
Like a dove on a summer day.
On the edge of memory she sits
And beckons me to play.

To soothe her gypsy soul,
With a song or two and then
Open the door to the gilded cage
And let her see beyond the bend.

At times she flies towards heaven--
But gets caught in a bitter wind
And then she flutters near the earth
Thinking it better to pretend,

That she and I are separate--
Two birds, two lives, two songs
And yet I know the untold truth
She’s not where she belongs.

--C. H. Green @2007

Thursday, March 05, 2009


When rain falls,
sometimes we are standing
in the low spot where it pools--
And fills our galoshes
So that we slosh with each step.
And when we peer into the puddles
The image of us keeps changing.
Yet while we are looking down
At the flood rising to our knees,
The sky before us has forgiven all--
And is busy painting pretty promises
Of light and hope which we must
Look up to see.

--C. H. Greenn @2007