The Swashbuckler’s Quarters

Swashbuckler’s Mommy

April 23rd, 2007 at 9:46 pm (Occasions, The Swashbuckler Series)

ere’s a little something I wrote fo my mom back in 1989.  I placed it in an antique celluloid autograph book (circa 1909) and periodically “borrowed” it back so I could fill it up with more rhythmic musings.

I hope you enjoy it as much as she did.  Ya’know, she actually used to get a charge out of teasing me for the fact that I could never read the bloody thing all the way through without tripping over the lump in my throat.

So now you know where my odd sense of humor comes from. (hehe)

Thanks Mom;-)

Swashbuckler’s Mommy

by Dave Franzwa

Each day as I would fall awake
you’d say “good morning dear.”
Like sunshine on a rainy day
you’d shower me with cheer.

And as I dressed,
my mind impressed
with all the day would bring
the things I’d do
time spent with you
my life a song to sing.

Then breakfast you’d make sure I ate
and send me on my way
to kingdoms only I could see
I’d venture off to play.

The lands I saw
struck me with awe
I saved a maiden fair
the dragon knew
his dad I slew
so cowered in his lair.

It made no difference how I went
by land or sea I’d roam
but driven by an emptiness
by lunchtime I’d be home.

And there you’d be
with food for me
and milk to quench my thirst
my trusty steed
you’d also feed
then all my wounds you nursed.

You helped me get undressed when I was
oh, so tuckered out
and as I bathed you’d smile and sigh,
as you turned my pockets out.

The treasures there
beyond compare
you guarded with your life
a cork, a bone,
a smooth flat stone,
a broken pocketknife.

As twilight closed the covers on
the pages of the day
you’d kneel with me beside my bed,
my prayers we would say.

God bless the rich,
God bless the poor,
the young, the old, the lame
thank Jesus Christ
who paid the price
and took away our blame.

Then I’d slip in between the sheets,
and you’d turn down the light,
and kiss me gently pon the cheek…
I knew that all was right.

Then as I slept,
the smile that crept,
across your face spoke love;
from God through you,
a love so true,
my blanket from above.

Those days are now so long ago,
my hair in spots has grayed
you’ve gotten somewhat older too,
memories seem to fade.

But I still feel
that when I kneel
you’re with me when I pray
and heaven knows
my love still grows - Mom
Happy Mother’s Day.

 Say - If you’d like to get yer hands on the pdf complete with poem and graphic before Mother’s Day, just take a poke at this link right here:

==> Swashbuckler’s Mommy

Please feel free to comment.

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Leprechaun’s Visit

March 16th, 2007 at 11:22 pm (Occasions)

ere’s a little St.Patrick’s Day treat.

My sister sent me an article about a prayer composed bt St.Patrick in 433 AD.  As usual, this inspired  me to venture into my imagination and come back out trailing the following verses behind me.

Happy St.Patrick’s Day   (and thanks, Sis. This was fun;-)

Leprechaun’s Visit

~ by Dave Franzwa

As I walked through the woods in the back of my mind
I spied a wee man `cross a glen
I’d met him before, and knew I was in store
for a tale, “Shamus, where have you been?”

He said, “David, me lad, it’s adventures I’ve had
I’ve a story to you, for to tell
won’t ye settle yer rump on this old walnut stump
and make ready to listen ye well?

You see, this was McGee, t’was a Leprechaun he
who’d been given the first name of Shamus
He had stature, this man, of the little folk clan
and by our mortal standards was famous.

Though large for his kind, I’m quite sure that you’ll find
and imagine with me you’ll agree
to look into his eyes, a short squat would be wise
because Shamus was just 2 foot 3

He related a story of old Irish glory
and of magically vanquishing foes
I could barely sit still for his words gave a thrill
and his voice with intensity rose.

T’was the tale of St.Patrick that wee Shamus told
to speak mercies of God and good will
to the king of the land, led his band, oh so bold
as the Druids lay ambush to kill.

Though they’d set up a snare, it would harm not a hair
as their deaths weren’t written that day
for dear Patrick aware, that the ambush was there
with his men knelt and started to pray

When they were done, they had victory won
as they knew that the Druids were pawns
with the shield of the Son, Druids saw nought but one
tiny doe and her family of fawns.

I bid Shamus good day, then turned back just to say
that I doubted if ere I could tell
the story of old and St.Patrick so bold
not like Shamus could, nary so well.

But Shamus McGee was nowhere to be found
so I went to the place I’d begun
what he’d told me about, left my mind with no doubt
even Leprechauns worship the Son.

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