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Fran McClelland' Profile

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'Twas a long ride down the old country road,
where blossoms were fading and trees bare;
I often wondered why Dad chose to live,
... continued
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All is green and lovely,
on such an April day;
Lush and soft the grasses feel,
... continued
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The shells we gather at the sandy shore,
are memories of our days by the sea;
The colors of a sunset sky,
... continued
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October can seem mellow,
even as leaves are turning bright;
The last month of golden beauty,
... continued
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Whispering winds turn frenzied,
the oak tree sways to its side;
And on my bedroom window,
... continued
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Every day at the park we were greeted,
by the clown-faced balloon man at the gate;
He was lean and lanky holding colorful balloons,
and his smile was always first-rate;
He loved all the children passing by,
and gave out balloons all day;
He only charged a penny for one,
He was awfully nice that way.
Baggy pants with patches wide,
a crooked hat perched to its side;
A million times I saw him there,
someone who never seemed have a care;
But I read one day in the local news,
our balloon man had gotten the flu;
With cards and letters sent to him,
he felt as if he were quite the king;
A few weeks later autumn came,
and "off to school" our folks proclaimed;
We dashed by the park to see if still, 
our balloon man stood upon the hill;
"He passed away", so teacher said,
he died last night in a hospital bed;
We never got the chance to say goodbye,
I couldn't help but start to cry;
Arriving home mother comforted my tears, 
and reminded me that through the years;
" Your balloo man was surely a special guy",
as she wiped each teardrop from my eyes. 
When summer came I walked to the park,
it was late but barely growing dark;
And the carnival sounds were alive and singing,
with a different old fellow, not nearly as winning;
His face was somber not like our friend,
and I realized my childhood had come to an end. 
 

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We all seek the peaceful space,
which gives us precious time alone;
As we sit inside on a cold, rainy day,
... continued
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Wherever you look someone is struggling,
to find the way down their own path;
Though somehow it seems impossible,
... continued
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Oh, how I adore the autumn days,
the chance to cool ourselves after summer's stifling heat;
Like a honeycrisp apple the breeze is fresh and sweet,
... continued
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There's a place where only I can go though God is with me, 
that, I know;
The images of past and present whirl and twirl within my brain,
... continued
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