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Jennifer Burgan

Bruce Burgar

of

Temple, TX, US

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Bruce Burgar passed away in September, 2000. We leave his poetry online as a memoir.


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Progression

by

Bruce Burgar

Do you share the brightened fullness of
Gold sunlight as it falls,
Do you sense the whistles of the birds
When to their mates they call?

Can you hear the squirrels go scurrying by
As they dance from branch to branch,
Can you smell the richness of the air
As it fills them with romance?

Do you see the richness of the leaves
As they turn from green to gold
And hear the creaking of the limbs
As the year begins to fold?

Do you feel the air enclosing us
As the stream goes trickling by?
Do you grasp the solemn wintry sense
Of the clouds up in the sky?

Experience these and finer things
In the life you have been dealt.
You'll find each day you're given then
Will bring to you new wealth.


Rewards

by

Bruce Burgar

They walked the woods one autumn day
Among the morning mist.
The fallen leaves from years gone by:
By sunshine they were kissed.

The days were cool, the breeze was calm,
Leaflets glittered down.
The wisps arose and touched her face
And wiped away the frown.

He stroked her hair, she met his eyes,
Their heartsouls beat as one.
His strengthened hands around her held
Till all was said, and done.

They looked back on the happenings then,
On days that were not dull.
They remembered now those early times
And moments that were full.


A Day in the Sun

by

Bruce Burgar

We woke from our nap in the plentiful shade
Of the old weeping willow tree
And gazed o'er the mountains at wild birds at play,
Their hunts and their wingings to see.

The simple green leaves slowly cascaded down
And waved in the soft winds that blew.
The swinging brown limbs slowly danced in the breeze
And swam in the light sky of blue.

The bees and the butterflies wandered the field
And paused on the petals of red.
The carpet of yellow and blue flowers 'round
Formed nature's own rich flowerbed.

The cattle that passed through the field at our side
Were silently making their way.
Their calls and the clanging now followed them home
To round off the end of the day.

Our horses awaited us in their corrals
Held fast with the duties of play.
The sun slowly settled off into the fields
And offered the last of its rays.

Our cattle were led to the stalls that await
Inside the tired side barn of red.
The horses that play to the end of the day
Once more to their homeplace are led.

The apple pie's airs slowly cascaded home
And led us away with its smell.
We supped to our fill at this time once again
Then into our bedding we fell.


The Return

by

Bruce Burgar

Our trip which was a lengthy one
Was nearly at its end;
We'd make it back just soon enough
With time alone to spend.

Tomorrow would be ours alone
Beside a roaring fire
For she'd be mine and mine alone
In her silky attire.

Her body would be within my arms
As through the day it passed,
Sharing holds with touch of love
'Till she was mine at last.

For yes, the day was ours to hold
When touching beside the fire.
And she could give a loving day
In her silky attire.


The Happiest Times

by

Bruce Burgar

As the breeze hit our face daddy told me of times
That he would play hookey from school
And sway to the stream on his granpappy's farm
On the back of Sweet Bertha their mule.

Daddy told me the happiest times of his life
Were spent catching fish at the hole.
He would rest by the side of the broken down shack
Making one simple cast with his pole.

Daddy sat 'neath the Sycamore tree by the dock
And gazed on the waters that flowed.
He found solace offered by leaves as they passed
And the long graceful leaps of the toad.

The sun glittered down in the afternoon sky
And showed sofr designs on the ground,
The beautifully sweet simple songs of the birds
Would fill the fresh air with its sound.

He recalled those times of days long ago
When fish were still leaping out high
And rich smells that came from the old kitchen stove
Of grandmama's sweet apple pie.

Now dragonflies no longer were to be seen,
The roads had become ones of stone.
No longer were gayest of times to be spent
There casting for fish at his home.


Memories

by

Bruce Burgar

The memories I have of the sea to this day
Are still coursing through my veins.
That's when I lost Vikki on September's morn
Bringing forth my teardrop stains.

The day was the fifteenth when we were to wed
In the church a mile away.
The aura that shined on her face to that time
Would have made the angels sway.

My heart was then joyful at what was to be
A most heavenly, gracious event,
But when she heard voices on that wedding day
She was sure just what it meant.

She stood at the waters of pier thirty six
To help shield our lives from storm
But winds had then called and caused her to fall
Pulling down her most gracious form.

Her body was swept then so far out to sea
'Neath the waves that tossed and churned.
The plans then were broken for this joining day
And our hearts would forever burn.

Quite later I heard of her death in the sea
And was then downdrawn by my tears.
The memories of her face alights in my mind
Throughout all these vacant years.


Remembrance

by

Bruce Burgar

I walked upon the shore
As the sun beat down on me.
I was taking my vacation
In a village by the sea.

I could gaze upon the waves
And see my lover's smiles.
This was ever so uplifting
As I walked for miles and miles.

I saw my lover's parting
In a way I'd always feared.
As I gazed upon my mind
The smiles, they dissapeared.

Now I only see the ships,
I see my love no more.
There are only my own footprints
In the sands upon the shore.


Love's Rewards

by

Bruce Burgar

The moon's soft rays gleamed from her eyes
As we shared a sacred touch.
Her gentle lips moved close to me
Giving holds that meant so much.

Her touch was placed with nature's skill
As the warmth emboweled my pride.
A finger's touch now warmed her heart,
Joyous tears showed forth inside.

She turned to cast her eyes away
And portrayed her hair of gold,
Now slender shoulders showed their grace
With each bend and graceful fold.

I held her dear with warm embrace
While smiles encased her cheek.
My eyes were cast upon the hills
For the moon had found its peak.

Sweet Cherub's dart had found its place
And our hearts now beat as one.
I'd never leave her holds behind
'Till the rising of the sun.


Doc Van Ness's Revenge: A Semi-fictional Tale of my Left Temporal Lobectomy

by

Bruce Burgar

I saw her walking through the park
And knew our hearts would meet.
I boldly walked up to her side
Then said hello to greet.

She didn't hear me at this time
But kept a hearkened pace.
I hastened up my step beside
That I might see her face.

"Now could we stop and talk awhile?"
I asked with joyous pride,
"And may I ask we have a round
And sit and talk inside?"

"And could we step into the bar
To have a drink or two?"
"I'd like to say what's on my mind
And share some thoughts with you."

She gladly turned to follow me
And took a wrought iron chair,
I shivered at the thought she'd come
To talk with me right there.

I sat that I might see her face
In shadows dark and dim.
The angels sang into my mind
A soft and joyous hymn.

I spoke to her my tale of woe
About my Z-L stay,
How doctors think that they can heal
When golf is all they play.

"Just hold your chair and brace yourself
For you may want to shout,
If you have not the strongest gut
This may just freak you out."

"I'd like to tell you of my brain,
The operation given;
How they chopped into my skull -
Thank God that I'm still livin'."

"Now this was back a year ago,"
I went right on to say;
"When they drilled into my head
Then said cough up and pay."

"It started when they hauled me in
And chained me to the wall,
And then they took the saw to me;
I thought that I might bawl."

"They slashed off all the golden locks
That beautified my head.
Doc thought that he would bash my head
Then leave me there for dead."

"They crammed my mouth full with a sock
So that I wouldn't scream.
They hit me with a wooden bat
And sent me off to dream."

"I think they used a greasy saw
To loosen up my cap.
It fell down to the kitchen floor
And made just one loud 'WHAP!'"

"The greenish ooze came flowing out,
They tried to wipe it up.
But then it dribbled down my chin
And so they got a cup."

"They played some knick-knack on my jaw
And cut my jowel loose.
Then Doctor Giller came to bat
And all went through the roof."

"Doc Giller got a rusty spoon
Then tied it to his wrist,
And then he dug the blackhead out
And flung it with a twist."

"And later on I almost gagged
While in recovery.
I couldn't hardly catch my breath
And no one heard my plea."

"But soon they hauled me to a room
Where I could watch T.V.,
And contemplate my life ahead
And all the things that be."

"Then there were times I'd call a nurse
When I might have a fit.
She'd loosen up her buttoned blouse
And press me to her ***(*)."

"I won't forget the seafood meal
They brought to me one night.
The crabs, they tried to claw at me,
The fish put up a fight."

"So know you see what they have made,
A big ol' hunk of stone
That only sits into the morn
And 'cites you out this poem."

"I want to thank you for the time
To have this talk with you.
At first I was just feeling bad,
Yes, I was kinda blue."

I looked back on my Lady Fair
And saw it in her eyes,
The tear that she had shed for me
'bout all my drummed-up lies.

So Doc Van Ness this poem's to you,
I hope you have the time
That you might read this final verse.
(I know it doesn't rhyme.)


A Moonlit Ride

by

Bruce Burgar

Now would you take me through the sky
For rides in your balloon?
Just flowing through the distant clouds
While gazing at the moon?

The ride would take us o'er the fields
As breezes start to blow.
We'll hold on tight to ride the winds
And catch the rainbow's flow.

Our homes would sit in fields below
And shimmer with their lights.
The trees would sway in silent winds
And usher off the frights.

And then my eyes will grasp your face
And find your graceful lips.
Your gentle hands then come to me
And cup my fingertips.

The night will then be ours to hold
While sailing 'neath the clouds.
Your lips sweet touch will find my heart
And make the angels proud.

Our quiet night will fill with loves
Sweet song amongst the stars.
My mind will smell the sweetened air
And hear love's rich guitars.

But then will near the break of day
And peaceful sun will rise.
The birds will call unto their mates
To join us in the skies.

We'll settle then into the fields
For now our time is done.
We'll share as one the thoughts we've had
Beneath a rising sun.


Sea Trek

by

Bruce Burgar

We were coming back home on this day ninety-four
Of our constant bout with the sea.
We were tugging a whale on each side of the ship,
Our Captain, my shipmates and me.

The winds blew horrendously into our sails
As we made the trek to our home.
The rocks up ahead plainly outlined the shore
With each rocking wave spitting loam.

Our Captain, he stood by the side of the wheel
And ordered the white sails brought down
As each man looked to the edge of the shore
And saw family members from town.

Our women and children had come back to us,
We were joyous this outline to see.
We had finally come to the end of our trip
Our Captain, my shipmates and me.

But then the rudder smashed and broke
While hitting on the rocks.
This had to happen close to home
Before we made the docks.

We'd have to cut our bounty free,
The trip was made for nought.
The oil and blubber from the whales
Would once more need be sought.

But then our captain shouted down
"Those whales, leave them be!
Let them the ship's own sides protect
In our fight against the sea."

"The whales will as a cushion serve
As against the rocks we're tossed."
We would never see our families.
Our lives, they would be lost.

And then we spied life boats ahead,
They rowed to us from shore.
They'd take us to the ones we missed
And we'd be home once more.

I remember days within the fog;
To our fight against the sea.
To days that we went sailing then...
Our Captain, my shipmates and me.


Shipmates We!

by

Bruce Burgar

"Ah, my boy," my mate said he
"Come join me at the kegs."
"We'll sample of the fine wines here
And drink it to the dregs."

Ye wouldn't want this drink to spoil
So hand me there yer cup.
Just guzzle down into yer crop,
I swear it fills ye up!

And give me here yer flask, I say,
I'll fill it to the top.
There's plenty more fer both of us,
I say we might just drop.

Say boy I say me head's alight,
I'm feelin' now the blues.
Won't ye help me to my bunk
And le' me get a snooze?

Its yers alone to finish off,
Its not a thing to waste.
The wine's too good to put aside
And lose its sparklin' taste.

My drinkin went into the night
And filled me up with spunk.
I have to stop this poem right here
Cause man, I'm blessed drunk!


Again?

by

Bruce Burgar

There were those times I'd listen well
To hear old George's tales.
He'd tell me of the time he fought
That bought with Prince of Wales.

He'd tell me of the crowd that showed
To urge the fighters on,
He told me of the fight they had,
A whole three minutes long.

The crowd would cheer when Bruce the Best
First stepped into the ring.
But then when George first showed his face
The rotten eggs did fling.

Upon the clang the fighters stood
And came to meet the test.
Bruce threw punch one... and then punch two...
I can't tell you the rest.

George heard the song of whipporwills
And fell down to the ground.
You heard the whistles and the cheers,
Then quiet... the only sound.

The poor old George had met his match
And waits for bruise to mend.
Just listen close and you can hear
His final word ... "Again?"


Thoughts in Flight

by

Bruce Burgar

"Soar upwards with me
Through the light blue skies!",
Said the snow-white crane to the dove.
We'll climb the airs and perch billowing clouds
Forever singing our songs of Love.

The earth down below,
Its gifts look so peaceful,
The waters, the trees, the fields.
And freely it gives, with just minor attendance,
Its varied and abundant yields.

The waters give joy,
The trees give their fibers:
From the fields, the fresh grains of Life.
And yet we ask of the peoples below
Why they seemingly long for strife?

Can't they look up at us
And see our happiness grow
Though we have no set sources for food?
Our coats aren't alike and we have parted likings
But does this affect our mood?

Weren't they once blessed
With such peace-seeking minds
Even as ours still remain to this day?
What caused them to err and lead seperate paths-
Every one in a nonagreeable way?

To think life anew
Have some set their minds,
Searching out basic pleasantries lost.
'Though talk comes aplenty they bind their fresh spirits
To words from the Holy Ghost.


A Captain's Fate

by

Bruce Burgar

The depth charge struck it's final blow
And sent the sub to rest.
The crew was sure they'd had their time
And now would meet their death.

The looks on all the faces 'round
Showed surfaced fear and shame,
For what would homefolks think of them
And how they'd played the game?

All eyes were on Our Captain now;
They hoped a second chance
To share a long-sought, well-earned time
Back home with their romance.

Our Captain didn't dare to show
His rapid welling fears
But searched his mind for what he'd learned
In all his prior years.

The years of his experience
Went racing thru his mind.
What he'd been taught just wouldn't do;
He left those thoughts behind.

His aim was now to save the Crew
So they could Rise to Light.
He'd give himself if just he could
That they might have life's right.

He searched the thoughts that came to him
Then realized his words;
"Crew... Rise... Light?", he knew it now!
Once more they'd eye the birds.

Without a word he turned to them
And said, "Now follow me!"
"You'll rise to see your families,
You'll evermore be free!"

"You'll have to do the things I say
And it will bring on pain
To rise thru pressures that surround."
"Please just think of my name."

"Remember me for all your days
And what I'll do for you."
Our Captain turned and led the way
To save his cheering crew.

What once were used to take men's lives
Would now be used for gain.
Then each man crawled into the tube
As Captain called their name.

He warned each man again of how
Some wouldn't make it home.
But each man sought their memories
And sought the ocean's foam.

When each were in he shut the door
And spun the handle closed
Then launched the men into the sea
And fought to stay composed.

Our Captain's fate lay with him now
As hours went passing by.
He sat alone still pondering
His final right: to die.

The crew were trapped but freed by him,
He gave to them a way.
But he remained within the sub;
A courage therein lay.

His thought of friends and family's glow
Went ushering thru his mind.
The thought of pleasures long time past
And what he'd leave behind.

But he'd keep watch and wait for them
And hold his family's love.
His soul would shine and light the way
From sparkling skies above.


For Mom

by

Bruce Burgar

My Mother taught me many things
Throughout the years gone by.
Like how to sleep within her arms
And how to laugh, and cry.

How to leap into the stream
When leaves went sailing by,
How to march the finest march
Beneath the clouds on high.

She taught me how to sail a kite
Into the bustling wind.
She'd always stop and kiss my bruise
To make the soreness mend.

She showed me how to bake a cake
To give unto my Dad,
To play with all the kids at school
And tell the good from bad.

Mom combed my hair and fixed my suit
For going off to church.
Mom rubbed my back and kissed my tears
When Bird fell off her perch.

Those times are gone but Mom's my friend
Throughout each passing day.
She'll stay a friend within my heart
I always hope and pray.


Days in the Woods

by

Bruce Burgar

My grandfather's cabin
Remains in the glen,
It brings on memories
Of times known as when.

When we saddled the horse,
When the wind blew our hair;
When we plowed through the land,
When we went to the fair.

When the daylight would break,
When the breakfast was served;
When dusk hit the land,
When our supper was served.

When we went for a swim,
When our backs felt the sun;
When we left behind gloom,
When we contended in fun.

When we ran in the woods,
When we joined at the hearth;
When we drew from the well,
When we joined at the heart.

Weathered logs still remain
By the stream to this day
To remind us of when
In lost days of play.