Friday, December 12, 2008

The Beauty Of the Forest Is Enthralling

The beauty of the forest is enthralling
With luscious sweet air always calling.
The breadth, the height,
The coolness, the might
And great sloping depths appalling.

This carriage I ride
May put on my side
An advantage which we take for granted .
But no carnal hand
Can waive o'er the land
And match the green splendor God planted.

The creator of earth
Knew of your worth
A home for both man and his charges.
But above all of that
While just gazing at
His kingdom in my mind enlarges.

The story of love
As told from above
Is grasped in your soft evening spectre.
And could but the earth
share of your mirth
We too could know peace as our sceptre.

Linda Cooper

Note: This poem was found among Vester's papers. Later, Linda Cooper found the original among her papers bylined by her.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Heaven

Heaven! How beautiful the sound.
Shout it all the world around.
The place where the creator lives
From whence to all his blessings gives.

A place where all the angels sing
And honor to the Lord do bring.
The place where the redeemed shall dwell
And of their victories shall tell.

O'er sin which once did tempt them sore
But hath this power o'er them no more,
Of how old Satan tried in vain
To win them to his fold again;

Of how their God in mighty power
Did lead them on each day and hour,
Of how they used to plead the blood
When Satan came in like a flood;

And like a lion did roar loud
With countenance like a thundercloud,
A place where God shall dry the tears
Of those who laboured through the years

To bring the light unto the lost
To save some soul at any cost,
A place where all shall live for aye
Rejoining in eternal day;

A place where evil cannot dwell,
A place just opposite of hell.
Let us go tell to all creation
That God inviteth every nation.

Oh Father when I sleep tonight
Let me dream of heaven's glory bright.

Vester Cooper
c 2008. Vester Cooper Trust. All rights reserved

Ah, Ghostly Pine

Ah, ghostly pine that stands alone
In barren waste of mountains.
Where once grew forests green and rank*
Where once gushed crystal fountains.

There are no branches on your trunk.
From you they have been taken.
They could not stand the strain you stood.
When by winds you were shaken.

The water down the canyons roars
When heavy rain is falling.
All filled with muddy sediment,
The sight is quite appalling.

The mat of leaves and straw and grass
When forests here were growing
Absorbing the rain as it fell
Kept rivers from o'erflowing

Along came man with saw in hand
Destroying game and timber.
With him came also forest fires
With glowing flame and ember.

The flames spread o'er the forest floor.
The dry leaves burned like tinder.
And leaping up into the trees
It burned with none to hinder.

The wind came whistling through the crown
Each dying blaze renewing.
Ah ruthless man your carelessness
Has been your own undoing.

The forests were a gift of God
With wildlife in them playing.
Now man for your destructiveness
The penalty is paying.

Vester Cooper
c 2008, Vester Cooper Trust. All rights reserved.

*This may be a different word. The handwriting is unclear.

Ah, Ghostly Pine (early draft)

There are multiple versions of this poem in Vester's hand. A draft which preceded the final version appears below.

Oh, ghostly pine standing alone
In barren waste of mountains
Where once grew trees so tall and green
Among the bubbling fountains.

There are no branches on your trunk.
From you they have been taken.
They could not stand the strain you stood.
When by winds you were shaken.

Old Pine you tower like a spire
While slowly you're decaying
Someday you will crash to the earth
The elements obeying.

The water down the canyons roll
When heavy rain is falling
All filled with muddy sediment
The sight is quite appalling.

The mat of needles, leaves and grass
When forests here were growing
Absorbing raindrops as they fell
Kept rivers from o'erflowing

Along came greedy, wasteful men
Destroying game and timber
With them came also many fires
With glowing flame and ember.

The flames spread o'er the forest floor
Its cover burned like tinder
Then leaping up into the trees
It burned with none to hinder.

The wind came whistling through the trees
ach dying blaze renewing
Ah ruthless man your carelessness
Has been your own undoing.

This forest was a gift from God
With wildlife in it playing.
Now man for your unthoughtfulness
The penalty is paying.

Vester Cooper
c 2008, Vester Cooper Trust. All rights reserved.

Jared

Jared was a little guy.
He lived with Mom and Dad.
And boots just like his Grandpa's
Were the only kind he had.

He was tough like the knotty oak
When with Grandpa he did play.
"Just spank me harder Grandpa,"
The little guy did say.

"Now run and play," Grandpa would say.
"I think I spanked you red."
"It didn't even hurt a bit,"
Is what he always said.

He played with all the kids around,
This plucky little guy.
And even if he did get hurt
Would seldom ever cry.

He knew about the plants and seeds
And liked to see them grow,
And if he saw a new one,
All about it he must know.

He played about so happily
And never ran away.
Somehow the laces in his boots
It seemed would never stay.

He said "I think they are too hard
To get on that away.

" 'Sides, Grandpa don't have none in his.
I like them right this way.
And if I wear them just like this
And wear Grandpa's hat too,
I can walk around and look about
Just like my Grandpa do."

Vester Cooper
c 2008. Vester Cooper Trust. All rights reserved

Old Jolly

I am a jolly pumpkin,
And I grew up large and round
In a little backyard garden
In a pleasant little town.

As I lay there turning yellow
And gazing at the sky
I was dreaming of the day
That I would be a pumpkin pie.

Vester Cooper
c 2008, Vester Cooper Trust. All rights reserved.

Twas A Quarter Past Eight

Twas a quarter past eight,
The wife still in bed
"Another late breakfast,"
The old man said.

That woman can sleep
Like a polar bear
At the Arctic Circle
In an ice cave lair.

She was sleeping well
When he arose at six
With things to do
And things to fix.

So he got busy
With many things
And the clock ticked on
As time took wings.

He cleaned out ashes,
Built the fire up good.
Then he went outside
And packed in wood.

Made a pot of coffee
And drank it down.
While the sun did rise
On the sleepy town.

Fed the cow and calf
And the bunnies, too.
And tried to think
Of other things to do.

So he lay on the couch
And read a bit
And thought of his woman
Who was sleeping yet.

So he looked at the clock
About a quarter til nine
Said, "Surely my woman
Will rise and shine,

"And make my breakfast
before I croak
Or before her ribs
I have to poke

"And say, 'Look woman,
Get out of that bed.
You have a good man
Who has to be fed!' "

Vester Cooper
c 2008. The Vester Cooper Trust. All rights reserved