Poems by Richard G. Martin

Remembering    By Richard Martin 444

To remember is a gift and sometimes a pain
You can't pick and choose, the ones the ones that remain

I don't want to forget you and couldn't if I tried
But to remember is painful, and brings tears to my eyes

The love we had for each other I think would be rare.
There was no doubt about your love, it was always there.

I don't like the pain that your memories bring to me
How could a love so pure, cause so much misery

There's not a time that I don't think of you
And so there's not a time, that I'm not feeling blue

When you died the pain was hard to bear
I'll Never forget the unwavering love, that you and I once shared

A Rose For Judy Richard Martin 212


Judy, I send this rose to you, and with all my heart I care
The rose may be lovely, but to you, it can't compare

I could have sent an orchid, but the story would be the same
The orchid's just another flower for your beauty to put to shame

The rose is just an earthly thing, that will soon wither and die
But your beauty will last forever, for beauty's in the beholder's eye

So when you look at the flower, for the next day or two
Maybe you'll think of me, sweetheart, I'll be thinking of you

I'll Always Remember   by Richard Martin         401


I'll always remember, the day that I met you
The way you used to hold me, the day we said I do

We were always together, at work or at play
The love we had for each other, I remember to this today

I'll always remember, the days of me and you
The way you used to laugh dear, the things we used to do

The way you used to kiss me and hold me late at night
I'll always remember, how things just seem so right

I'll always remember, the good times that we had
I don't seem to remember, any times that were bad

When I was feeling sad and lonely, you kissed my tears away
And told me that you loved me, and you'd never go away

But when you left this world darling, my world fell apart
But you'll always be remembered, remembered in my heart

Yes you'll always be remembered; in my heart

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No More Whippoorwill    by Richard Martin   429

I was born in the country 80 years ago,
Many days I spent behind a mule, making the garden grow.
It didn't seem like work back then,
I'd work all day until my chores were at an end.

In the late afternoon, I'd sit on my porch swing,
watching and listening to the birds sing.
I'd watch until the sun brought long shows close,
to me a pleasure that only the country knows

I'd sit and take in nature, which was all around me,
and wonder at the beauty that others couldn't see.
I'd hear a Bobwhite quail and in the distance a Whippoorwill,
I'd sit for hours, for all was quiet and all was still.

I Never dreamed that things could change so fast,
I thought my way of life would always last,
Now when I sit on the swing in the late afternoon all is not still,
there's no more Bobwhite quail and no more Whippoorwill.

Cars and trucks up and down the new highway,
have an unforgiving noise that never goes away.
I guess for me like the Bobwhite quail and Whippoorwill,
I to will soon be no more, and my voice also still.

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You say I never whisper, sweet things in your ear,
darling if you'd let me, that's all you'd ever hear.
I'd whisper that I love you, and how beautiful you are,
and that your beauty's not matched, by those near or far.

I'd whisper that no one could match, your sweet charm,
and you make a dream come true when you hold me in your arms.
I'd tell you night and day, how much you mean to me,
I'd whisper that my love for you is deep as the sea.

I'd whisper that the touch of you makes my life worthwhile,
and you brighten up my day, with just a smile.
And darling if you're counting, the sweet things I say to you,
I'm sure you'll agree, that by now it's more than two.
       
No words can describe, what you mean to me,
no one can take the angel wings, that through my eyes I see.
And darling if you'd let me, through the coming years,
I'd devote my life to whispering, sweet things in your ear.

Wish You Were Here  by Richard Martin

I should be happy here in the land of the sun
But all I can think of is things we have done.

Everything here in the Bahamas reminds me of you.
It's just not the same no matter what I do.

Perhaps I'll find another and another place to go
And maybe I'll be happy I really don't know.

As the postcards say I do with a tear
Sweetheart I really do wish you were here.

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I had a dream the other night, as I lay asleep in my bed,
the spirit of an Indian chief came to me, and this is what he said.

The words of this world have made me bitter, I've lost faith in mankind,
the words they speak are hollow, and the truth is hard to find.

The words they speak are many; they shift like grains of sand,
like the salt from the ocean, these words poison the land.

I watch my people starve, while the white man's foods are plenty,
he takes our game and burns the land, and his hollow words are many.

He tells me it would be much better, to move to another land,
he speaks these hollow words to me, while he's holding my hand.

He marched us on the trail of many tears to this other land,
many of my people died along the way to serve the white man's plan.

This land that I held sacred, is now a prison for all my kind,
I was the chief of all my people, now I'm forbidden to speak my mind,

We only wanted to live on the land, where my people lived and died,
but then the white man came and pushed us all aside.

My heart is saddened, to see the white man's plan,
they took our guns and arrows, they even took our land.

Someday when the spirits come and take me away,
I hope there'd be no hollow words, in that land far away.

What Would They Say?    By Richard Martin 431

  What Would They Say?

As my body grows weaker and my days slip away,
I often wonder what my friends would say.
Some come to visit and ask if I need anything,
Others never come by, they just stay away.

I wonder how many would miss me,
this I wonder, as my days slip away.
Would many be saddened, on that day,
Or just a note in the paper that I passed away.

Would some say they were glad, I passed their way,
Or would some have nothing to say?
I wonder how many would have tears in their eyes,
And how many would have their eyes dry?

I tried to help many and never asked for pay,
I hope they will acknowledge it, on my last day.
I'd like to think they would miss me,
But I'm not sure what they might say.

But it doesn't really matter, on this my last day

That Old Tree   by Richard Martin    430


In the backyard of my grandfather's house,
there was a large willow oak tree.   
Three of my brothers joined hands,
but couldn't reach around this old tree.

One day as my grandfather and I sat under that old tree,
we talked as we watched each leaf fall to the ground.
I ask how old he thought that tree might be,
he said I don't know but in its life, many a leaf has fallen to the ground.

He said it seems that life, is like that old tree,
and as each year passes, another leaf, from my life falls.
Until there are no more leaves, and I must sleep,
unlike that old oak, I won't wake again when spring calls.

Now he rests near that old tree as years come and go,
as I grow old, I remember what he said about that old tree.
Many leaves have fallen from my tree as years pass by,
now I watch the leaves falling, but now they are falling from my tree.

My Distant Star by Richard Martin         200

As I sit here alone tonight, just looking up above
Out of all the pretty stars up there, it's you I'm thinking of

I know your love is far away, but it feels so close to me
Like a beautiful star up there,  you shine so bright for me

        Then I'm reminded of the distance, between your love and I
I may never reach you, or should I even try

        So like a fool, I stand, with my arms reached to you
        Like a fool in love, I don't know what to do

So I'll keep reaching, for my distant star,
        With my arms stretched toward heaven, it don't seem quite so far