DO NOT CALL THEM HANDICAPPED

Today’s column is dedicated to June Waymire Pruitt, who passed away on August 2, 2022. June was a longtime member of the Saline County Branch of Poets’ Roundtable of Arkansas, who enjoyed sharing her poetry.

SPECIAL BOY

Special boy in Benton town

Name is Alan Edward Brown.

Loves his cars on the go

As he drives them to and fro.

Playing ball, then rides his bike; Carefully he takes a hike

To his backyard playing ground, Especially if his sister is around.

With a golf club in his hand

Hopeful that the ball will land

On the green and grassy mat

And not upon the Siamese cat.

All the things that little boys do Thank the Lord, he can do them, too. We know that he was sent down from above

To teach us the meaning of unselfish love.

The games were played.

Some in wheelchairs

Some barely moving

Some running fast

Giving their best ...

These children only loved by some. God’s humans.

They did not choose this life, or did they?

Winners they all were ...

The place,

Arkansas Special Olympic Summer Games.

LOST CEMETERY

A beautiful wooded, pine-covered hill

Lovely place I had never seen before Where trees are king, and reality is still That regressed me a hundred years or more.

And standing on the hill that time forgot

Walking into Kuhn Cemetery, I go

And with a very nice guide named Leo Precious tombstones were in bad disrepair

And names were read (long forgotten by some)

But a calmness was in the fresh air To this cemetery loved ones never come.

A memory is all most will ever be I remember for them this day, you see.

CONTEMPLATING – (touched by something unseen)

A quiet stillness pervaded the air Anticipation – everywhere

Suddenly, the sound of wings Something flying, but did not sing. Pressure felt upon left shoulder, very strong.

Paused for a second or two,

Then silently, (the wings) they flew ....

NIGHTMARE

The swamp and creatures in it were slowly closing in.

Why did I want to make this trip? I had never been so terrified in all my life and knew I might not return from the darkness where unknown eyes burned, around every corner, every curve in the trail.

Gloomy waters of the swamp closed in, as darkness fell.

I had been so safe not long ago in a soft, warm world.

Now, I am in peril while the dark waters swirl.

Oh, wait, this is not happening, this is not true, this must pass .... Wow! What a nightmare!!

Nice to awaken, at long last ....

THE LAST CAMPSITE

The water lay on the surface smooth as a satin sheet shimmering across the lake in the early-evening heat.

Campsite by campsite became deserted up and down the way, only the squirrels and birds chirping in each empty space would say gone, gone — each path that not so long ago held the footprints of happy people — and so, as the canopy is folded from over the table and the darkness is swiftly approaching, are we able to look at the beauty of the lake and trees and say,

“We were in a happy space...this lake called DeGray.”

UNTITLED

I stood beside the old homeplace this crisp autumn day, watching silently, as my childhood slipped swiftly away ....

To submit poems for publication, please send poems of 16 or fewer lines to Dennis Patton, 2512 Springhill Circle, Alexander, AR 72002, or patton_dr@ hotmail.com. The Saline County Branch of PRA is scheduled to meet at 1 p.m., at the Parkview United Methodist Church, 514 North Border Street, Benton, AR, on Aug. 27.