Page 1

Old Star
by Harry Slocum Tordoff

Old Star and me, we’ve been around the ‘Bar X’
For more years than I care to count;
I remember the night that he was foaled
And how I wondered if he’d make a good mount.

He was a rough one – even as a colt,
Always wanted (and got) his own way;
And when the time came – to try my skill,
He sure gave me – an int’restin’ day.

He twisted and turned – he sunfished and rolled;
I showed daylight – under my seat;
But believe me Friend – I wasn’t ashamed
He was goin’ to be – a hard one to beat.

He wouldn’t give – and neither would I
And my bruises sure proved he was tough;
But at long last, I wore him down,
He knew when he’d had enough.

And as years flew by – the Love that began,
As horse and man – ‘Fought it out’,
Grew to proportions – seldom seen
And left no one – cause for doubt.

The Beauty of Life
by Harry Slocum Tordoff

I look into the heart of a Rose – in the morning,
Where the dew – like a diamond glows – so richly adorning.
The faint haunting fragrance – the petals so fair,
The whole glowing expanse – of color so rare,
Is proof in abundance – of God’s power – untold,
All life – in accordance – with HIS Plan – to mold.

My Grandfather
by Mrs. James Baldwin
Bennettsville, South Carolina 29512

Memories return – of days gone by,
When I was just a child;
A highlight to me – was a Dear Old Guy –
Gentle, even tempered, and mild.

I can see him now, as of old,
With white starched collar and suit so dark,
A tall hat, in the heat or the cold
And a cane to help him “toe the mark.”

He greeted my mother in the same, sweet way.
With a cheerful voice, he’d always ask,
“Daughter, how are you feeling, today?”
And in his sunshine, we’d always bask.

My sisters and I would gather around
And listen to the stories he’d tell.
Our eyes were wide, our hearts would pound
As his tales of war – would cast their spell.

James Furman Fowler was honest and brave;
To that – both friends and foe would allow.
And to others, so much of himself he gave.
No pledge did he break – not even a vow.

They can picture him such – each Lass and each Laddie.
All this he was – and maybe some more.
But to me, it’s wonderful to say “GRAND-DADDY” –
A name I respect and adore.

To Dad and Mom in Spirit Land
by Harry Slocum Tordoff

Don’t think you’re forgotten – Mom and Dad,
You’re still very close to our hearts;
The thought of how you played your parts
Makes us very proud – and glad.
Glad God picked you – Dad and Mom
To be our family – and make our home,
To guide us through our formative years –
Teach us right – and quell our fears;
In Short – Mom and Dad in Spirit Land,
We’re still reaching out – to grasp your hands.

Page 2

The Rubber Tired Wagon
by Imagene Lewis Harding
Harrison, Arkansas

Sometimes I can’t help but wander back
To days that have gone on before;
When Daddy and Mamma and we kids three,
And a rubber tired wagon – went on a spree.
It was our weekly trip to the store.

Daddy would yell – “Come on, lets go”
His message was most clearly stated,
Then little Si, with his big straw hat,
On the spring seat, ‘tween Daddy and Mamma, sat,
In those little short pants that he hated.

In our colorful bonnets and big straw hats,
I’m sure we put on quite a show.
As the wagon rolled, we’d swing and sway
Singing “Life is like a Mountain Railway,”
Down that dusty old road we’d go.

I’d rather have newfangled cars, anytime,
If I could have the power;
I’d go back once again
For one of those long dusty spins
In that rubber tired wagon of ours.

Daddy put a Springfield Wagon Onto the Wheel base of a Model “T” Ford.
It was a Classy Mode of Transportation for us.

2 Haiku
by Dorothy M. Craig

Red, brown, gold, and green
Trees all dressed in Formal
Wear, for Wintertime Fling.

Shimmerings of Gold
Through froth on misty meadow
Loathed dandelions.

Good Friends
by Rev. Rob. Parker
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Good Friends are the seeds of tomorrow’s
Moments of Happiness and Success.

New Day
by Ronald Grossman

The Blade of Dawn
Cut the sky in two –
Leaving a Crimson wound –
Dripping an orange red blood
On the Jade meadows.

Passionate Sun
by Leonard Opalov

The sun, like a passionate miss is,
Implanting upon us its kisses.

Page 3

These two were originally in Madine Maddox Johnson’s Bluebonnets and Silver Spurs of Texas some time back. Madine was called to her Reward a short time ago.

Designs of Life
by Harry S. Tordoff

If we let our hearts control our Will
And weave the designs of Life,
Then Love will keep our tempers still
While God controls the Strife.

As the intricate art of weaving
Brings out the beauties of earth
God the sender – man receiving,
Then we too – can prove our worth.

The most gorgeous designs we’ll ever see
Can be woven into our lives,
By simply letting love roam free
For with God and Love – a human thrives.

But there’s other designs – not near as pretty
When temper, greed, and hate take hold
“tis then – the Devil holds the ‘Kitty’
And our souls are cheaply sold.

This Design is not a pretty one,
For it shows just what we are,
Instead of following God’s Crucified Son,
We reach for Lucifer’s Star

Credits Earned
by Harry Slocum Tordoff

In the ever widening Sphere
Of mankind’s conquests – here,
Knowledge is accrued quite rapidly;
But it’s our job to take hold
Learn each day till we are old
And we’ll gain the credits earned by you and me.

But the things that man will learn
Must not teach him how to spurn
Things that guide him toward the Throne of God Above

Let him head out – ever learning
With a heart that’s full of yearning,
To be engulfed completely – by God’s Love.

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All work in Short Circuit 2 – from the U.A.P. Manuscript Bureau – Dorothy Craig, Bureau Manager.

Published in the interest of amateur journalism by Harry S. & Etna L. Tordoff, for U.A.P.
Cranston, Rhode Island.

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