On the battlefield, the oponnent had the guns and the powder, but the huckelberry had all the balls ...

Poems below by David George:

RAINBOW

I saw a rainbow lift out of water and leap
Back into its origins. In one vast arc,
It cast a light that curved in falling back,
As if the sky were speaking to the deep
In mystical remarks. It spoke of hope:

The bright unraveling of what is bound
Between the flowing river and the ground.

It spoke of things that swim in myth and sleep--
Things rarely seen, things that began before
A rainbow came to illuminate in mist
The darker patterns of a valley floor.

I stood transfixed--a shadow in the grass--
Thinking the thoughts of a child in a candy store
Who spends his penny on splendor and stained glass.


THAT STAR

Where is that star we steer by, that shaft of light
Cold in the lens but tender in the heart?

And if it has drifted, has it drifted far
From where it flared upon the calendar?

The wise men said it was a star in fact--
And not a question mark, as when they asked

What searchlight probed the sky, what burning bright
Caught fire in the straw of prophecy.

Perhaps one night that star will reappear,
Cast fire down, consolidate its light.

Some say it will come to overpower the sky
Or lie in wait, with wise and open eye--
As if, in being, it were enough to be
A pinpoint on a vast periphery.