“On love’s dying” a poem by Gwen E. Campbell

Love languishes and dies

It leaves the mind

And then the eyes

But thanks my heart gives

For, he yet lives.


My love’s footsteps walked away

And will not return

To me another day

But his freedom my heart gives

For, he yet lives.


When loneliness becomes a way of life

I find that I

Can bare my strife

And a song my heart gives

For, he yet lives.

© Copyright 2015 By SoloPress 11



Homing Poems

A stamp, an envelope, into the mail
Another one goes winging somewhere.
My heart lifts, my mood glows
I’ve put another one in the air.

I send out mostly homing poems
Returning to my loving care.
Still, I’m not content unless
I’ve put another one in the air.

Heavy, heavy they weigh on my hands
And I must beard the editor’s lair.
I hear their little wings beating
And I must put another one in the air.

I’ve become addicted to mail time.
Will my homing poem be there?
But I know that even so, tomorrow,
I’ll put another one in the air.

I’ll suffer the agony, torture, pain
Of the damned, of this I’m well aware
Unless, when each poem comes home
I quickly put another one in the air.

Desert Wish


     This was written in 1952-53 while Mom was in California. She would be about 19 years old, and had spent most of her life in Texas.

Desert Wish

Have you ever walked in the desert at night?

With the snakes on the prowl,
and in the distance heard a coyote howl.
Or watched as the moon made soft sand shine
and stood transfixed at a cougar’s whine?

Well, I have.

I’ve felt the cold wind blow
down from the hills and over snow.
Snow lay thick and white upon sand,
now that’s a desert of a different brand.

Have you ever longed for a drink of water?

With your heart and soul a flame with thirst.
cursed sand til your lungs near burst.
Or with swollen tongue and face ablister
for a drink, you’d call the devil mister?

Well, I have.

I’ve crossed that desert from dawn to dark
and eaten dog down to the bark.
There’s an itch and a memory lingers
where I lost a leg and two good fingers.

Have you ever stopped in a gay saloon?
Drunk red wine, laughed, then cried
sometimes truthed, but mostly lied,
during stories told and re-told
How you lost your life-long gold?

Well, I have.

And I’d do it again for my love
of sand beneath and sky above.
for the feeling of quiet, man-forsaken space.
How I love this desert place.
Copyright Alexis Campbell-Jansky 2013
Edited by Richard Jansky