7]h@m@s S@IM'm?p ^i ^^^:^]^]^A^[&i^&j^^]^i^i^i^^i Beyond the Rim Thomas Dolliver Church Published By The Cora L. Williams Institute for Creative Education Thousand Oak<;, 'Jierkeley, California 1 92 1 ^ I w w ^ ^ ^ ^^^.^'% Copyrighted 1921 by Thomas T). Church ■©aA630989 DEC 27 132 OW SURPRISING the strength of young, growing things — the tender blades of grass piercing the hardened earth-crust, the sprouting tree cleaving the great rock, the growing mind breaking through the layer of con- ventional thought into the sunshine of new beauty and truth! "^ These poems written by a real boy are, I believe, a promise of what every youth could do, once our education becomes truly creative. Cora L. Williams. Beyond the Rim ♦ Voice from the silent mazes, Beyond the rim,, Struggling for shape, dimensioi In the dim Unconsciousness. Be free! We know the fearsome faces, The awe — the glory! In the unknown places We grasp, blindly , What force is this? — Or that? It does not matter. We are bound in one. Master! [7] The Wanderlust Trailing feet in the summer dust, The trees, the trail, the wanderlust — I follow away — I must, I must — Smoky buildings of brick and stone, How dusty and old you all have grown, I follow the trail — alone, alone — I follow the trail to the sunset's glow, I sing a song as away I go, Life is to live — I know, I know! [9] The Urge In the blueness of the sky On and on and on Seek I ! On wings I pass the haunts of man, I know the urge, and not the plan! In the void I hear a cry On and on and on Seek I! [10] Dawn The night slept; restless in the mist High clouds were kissed By waking day. A coyote wailed the coming morn, Night moaned, and paled — And dawn was born. [11] Beyond the Fears There's a song in the great unknowing; Walled by shadows and fears, With eager feet would my soul be going Among the spheres. On to the sea is the river flowing Shadows soften as evening nears; There's a song in the great unknowing Beyond the fears. [12] Inspiration The rising sun Spins a shining path across the sea To my door. . . . Can I still follow the path In the dark hours When the sun is gone? [13] ^ Content The night invades me. Like the tide, it flows Into the crevices And little worn places, Comforts me With its coolness — and depth. Tomorrow — light will blind Me from my dreaming; Warmth will sere this passion of content. Small wants will bind, And torture. But tonight I am wise With the weight Of centuries. [14] Johnny Cucabod Three men set out in search of God: A dreamer, a fool, and Cucabod. The dreamer, he sought a cell to pray, The fool bowed ever to feet of clay. These two — they swore that they found God ; 'T saw no trace" said Cucabod. The dreamer, the fool, and Cucabod. One told the truth — 'twas he found God. [IS] Eyes Bright as April skies Your eyes Were blue. I loved you for your eyes — Not you. Soft as August skies Your eyes Were true. But only your eyes were true Not you. [16] A Memory That was a wonderful image, Your hair Blown by the summer air; Your face And a bit of lace, Framed in the window there. It is a wanton sunbeam That falls On the soul's dim walls; A light That guides my flight When memory calls. [17] Dream Faces You scarce had come and stopped, and sighed Then gone away so soon, As a rift of some forgotten cloud Passes across the moon — I knew I had known you long before; Your face that looked from the crowd Was the pleasure-pain of a memory That wakes and would speak aloud. [18] To W , C, Morrow I raised some flowers in my garden Wonderful and fine; But saw others in my neighbor's garden More wonderful than mine. I sat by my neighbor's fireside, And talked of the world and strife ; In a few simple words he added More than I knew of life. [19] It is My Dream Rocks, sea-lashed at dawn ; white waves that beat Against the undertow about our feet; Spray-wet hair, and salty wind-swept sea — It is my dream that you come there with me. And we would walk in silence — hand in hand. It is my dream — you would not understand. A windless day, a shady tree that yields A quiet place in one of God's green fields; A meadow lark, and one white cloud above, The hush of noon — sky, beauty, wonder, love; And you'd caress my brow with cooling hand — It is my dream — you would not understand. [20] Longing I stood On a wind-swept hill And watched the birds Wing their way to the south. [21] My Masterpiece With great care 1 planned My masterpiece. With terrible accuracy I chose my words, my phrases — For it was to be masterful, It was to be vivid, delicate, Subtle, powerful. I would question the existence of things, I would tear down every belief of man and build again. I would thunder at the gates of the incredible And flood the world with a new light of understanding And it would be masterful. Men would be amazed, The world would be amazed, God would be amazed. And then — after weeks and months It was finished. I groped in vast untrammeled spaces, Found other worlds, other universes; Struggled with vague forces. Dared infinite gods — It was my masterpiece. I loved it and wept over it. [22] But men shook their heads. Here was an idler With nothing to do but dream, And to question the very foundation Upon which they Builded their existence. They did not see my vision — They saw me, And so they shook their heads. I laid it away. Then one day With nothing else to do I let my pen wander, Amused. It was — I forget — something about sun shine. And winds, and new-made nests. And singing flowers. An hour perhaps — and I forgot it. But men acclaimed a masterpiece! They depicted a subtleness I had not dreamed of. It was a vision, Daring, vivid, powerful. It was my vision — It was my masterpiece! [ 23 ] Sunset and Dawn The sun sets like a pageant Entering the gates of Heaven. I see noble chargers and valiant knights. Brazen trumpets, And pompous kings, Glory — victory — power! This is a sunset. But I love the dawn. I love its coolness — Its mystery. ''What subtle tie is there Between one's soul — And the break of day?" [24] The Moth A moth is beating itself Against my light. I wonder — Can this longing in me Be love? [25] She Smiled at Me Along the dusty way I strode, With a heavy frown and a heavy load, Until I passed her on the road; She gathered clovers 'neath a tree, She smiled at me, she smiled at me! Two laughing eyes that seemed to say, 'T'm lonesome too, come on and play," Then merrily on she went her way; My heart was very light and free. She smiled at me, she smiled at me! No roguish eyes meant to beguile, But just a true and trusting smile, Ah! We were pals for just a while! She was a lass of two or three. She smiled at me: she smiled at me! [26] To G. Y. H. I love your eyes, They bring me peace. At the subtle curving Of your mouth My heart leaps. A thousand voices surge And will not be still. At the softness of your hair I want to laugh — and weep. But in your eyes There is only peace. [271 Peace I sat among the ferns By the singing brook And, for a moment Forgot there was a world. [28] Isabelle Somewhere in her heart — a spring, Flowing bright and clear. Eagerly I drink, And learn from whence Her joy in life, her smile, her cheer. Somewhere in her soul — a light, Piercing the dark for those Who lift their eyes. Eagerly I follow To peace I dared not dream could lie, Except in Paradise. [291 To K, G, B, Thoughts of you go passing by Like clouds that drift in an April sky, Light and fleet and quickly blown Into a fanciful, vast unknown. Thoughts of you go passing by Like clouds in an April sky. [30] Indexing the Soul This, they say, Is good — this bad, This beauty — that love, Indexing the soul; This is God — this devil, Faith is such — Truth such other. And I, weary. Stand under the stars And bathe myself In the glory of living. [31] Vivian ♦J* When you look at me that way I forget That 1 am I And you are you And we are we; And only understand why birds Sing in springtime; And seem to know Why leaves wither and fall From the tree, When cold winds blow. [32] Peggy P^ggy let me hold her hand Blase and bland Was Peggy; So 1 felt no reprimand Just because of Peggy's hand. Peggy let me have a kiss, Daring miss Was Peggy; All the rest in ignorant bliss, Never knew of Peggy's kiss. Peggy said she loved me, too, Very true Was Peggy; But why should I be feeling blue Just because she loves me — too? [33] Ode to Mother s Sneeze Song of the siren, sweet, alluring, Shades of the feline, yowling, purring. Clang of the bells -on a Sunday morn. Trombone, saxophone, xylophone, horn; Song of the nightingale, soothing, slow. Canary-bird, mocking-bird, woodpecker, crow. A gentle strain from a minuet, A harsh refrain from a band — and yet, A softly sighing ocean breeze. The leaves arustling through the trees; Violin, flute, mandolin, lyre, Tornado, hurricane, thunder, fire. Mix them together, and if you please — A mild imitation of mother's sneeze. [34] Disillusioned I always thought that love would come On tiny feet, And whisper, though the lips be dumb, Things wondrous sweet. I thought that love was a little moth With dusty wings, A bird that flutters in one's heart And sings — and sings! Foolish mel At last I know The bitter truth — The happiness, the tears that flow, Are only — youth. [35] Vision I was alone. So much in solitude The dim vale Twixt life and death Faded, As night fades into dawn. Dim shadows That lurk beyond Blazed forth in sudden glory, And then were gone. [36] Loneliness I stood and watched A merry crowd go laughing by, Until the sound was lost In the din Of the city's street. [37] The Sign From a window it stared at me My very soul it taunted. Plain and simple and brazenly: "Girl Wanted." Alas! My life was bleak and bare, 1 made me a sign, undaunted, Over my heart I placed with care: "Girl Wanted.'' [38] LIBRARY OF CONGRESS