Maurer/Timm Quail Ridge UCD Student Endowment Order Books here Original Poems and Thoughts website Email Frank here: frankmaurer41@gmail.com

Poems and Thoughts by Frank Maurer

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Love

Flowing Thoughts by the Flowing River opus 4

There she was, seated facing the river!
I knew it was she, because of her white car.
I turned in to park and she turned towards me
I was glad to have found her.

She welcomed me with food and tea;
I threw in my hummus and Brie.
She is always perfect in her hostessing.
Then we started to talk for real, for the first time.

When it was time to depart
And I was driving home,
I felt cleansed and satisfied and washed clean.
She has such a wonderful effect upon me.
Contentment has invaded my being
From this magical river time.

Egyptian Lady opus 13

Most lovely Egyptian Lady;
The moment I placed eyes upon you,
I knew that you were special.
This does not occur often--
My being taken often by the female form alone.
You brought back so much of my past.
I resolved from our encounter
That I must have moments
To discuss together our lives:
Why are you here to reveal your Turkish to me,
When you said "Ben seni seviorum". (I you love.)
How beautiful such words
To one who has lost his love.
I reach out to you for
Some manner of interaction.

Aggression and Love opus 24

Love of country.
    Love of Another.
        Love of property.
            Love of possessions.
                Love of a food.
                Love of a pet.
            Love of a sports team.
        Love of a political party.
    Love of a religion.
Love of freedom.

Love of all these things gives one meaning
And a sense of belonging.
But when events are challenged and go awry,
Everything of Love might bring out
The strong human feelings of conflict and then aggression--
Another human emotion which often
Wells up in resulting human behavior:
We mirror the schizophrenic ups and downs of chimpanzees
When we might have evolutionarily followed the peaceful,
Loving interactions of the Bonobos, the Lesser Chimp!

Will we always be destined for an aggressive existence,
Or follow the better supplications for a loving reality?

Nora opus 225

On this day, seven years ago at 0115 AM, my wife of 31 years passed.
This was a dynamic marriage with ups and downs--with most of the former.
As with all long term relationships,
The memories become more poignant as time passes.
We met when Nora stopped by to purchase a Wood Duck,
One of many species of wild ducks which I raised on my farm.
She always joked that she came to buy a duck
And left with the duck and a share in half a llama!

As time passed, our experiences became more profound,
Commencing with matching our new kitchen colors
With soft orange-yellow hues of a very studied sunset.
We continually worked together to manage our farm,
Working with chicken and turkey harvesting,
To netting catfish, using our 100 foot seine-nets,
To gathering vegetables from our one acre chemical-free garden,
To raising orphaned emu chicks in our living room!

Nora was a world expert linguist in the Breton language.
She guided me through her conference trips to Scotland and Ireland,
Where I found my own genealogical genetic roots.
Her use of continual elevated vocabulary raised my speaking abilities.

Her encouragement and support for our Quail Ridge land trust was incalculable.
Together, we raised six million dollars and purchased about 2000 acres!
This area is now part of the UCD Natural Reserve System;
Many thought its success would be absolutely impossible--not so!
Beyond this, a Student Endowment is now in a very active, continual place.
Nora and I never had children, but she always nurtured my two boys.

Her end was finalized with a merciless plague of cancer
Which raged throughout her body--she worried most about losing her special mind.
This disease ended the life of a most talented person--
Such knowledge and love was lost to the world forever,
Except through all those remaining who knew her
And continually recount her productive and giving life.

(Also on this day in Texas 60 years ago, JF Kennedy was assassinated.)

Seta opus 704

She returned to me after so long.
I was dreaming, but there she was in a corner of a room.
White walls;  a friend-woman standing next to her.
I softly approached and we exchanged gazes.
I gently touched her cheek with mine.
It had been so long since I had longed to see her.
I was at last fulfilled with her presence.

Then, the dream shifted; she and I were transporting pigeons,
Passing them gently into coops to live and propagate.
As soon as it came to view, the dream beautifully ended.
Her softness lingers with a fragrant mindful perfume.
I am fulfilled and might now pass on, (to meet her?), complete.

To Hold on for Nine Years opus 714

Every holiday she strung lights throughout a room of our home.
Her last season for lights was November 2016.
She died soon thereafter--I left the lights on all that year.
Each year thereafter, the lights remained on in remembrance.
One November, almost to the day, nine years later, 
The lights dimmed to darkness.
The nights now are as deceased as the decorator herself. 

Valentine's Day, 2026 opus 760

Is Valentine's Day about a box of chocolates or a bouquet of flowers?
Do we really know the horror behind this 'holiday', 
As we send adoration to our loved ones?
This day is a mix of Roman rituals,
Christian martyrdom, and medieval poetry.
The roots of this holiday trace back to Lupercalia,
A pagan fertility festival held in February in ancient Rome.
Roman priests would sacrifice a goat and a dog for purification.
The goat hide was stripped into thongs, then dipped in blood,
And women would be slapped with them, making them 'more fertile'.
Young women would also place their names in an urn,
Pairing them with bachelors during the festival, perhaps leading to marriage.

As the Romans often did, Pope Gelasius 
Replaced Lupercalia with St. Valentine's Day.
One of the first stories recounts a 3rd-century Roman priest,
Who secretly performed marriages for celibate soldiers, until his execution.
Another claims Valentine fell in love with his jailer's daughter,
And allegedly wrote her a letter signed, "From your Valentine."
Chaucer romantically wrote in 1382 about birds choosing mates on that day.
In 1415 Charles, Duke of Orleans, imprisoned in the Tower of London,
Wrote his wife the earliest known valentine poem on that day.

Now, thanks to Esther A. Howland in the 1840s in America,
Mass-produced cards, adorned with lace and ribbons, were for sale.
In 1913 Hallmark Cards began mass-producing cards,
Declaring a 'Hallmark holiday'.
Followed only by the number of shared Christmas cards,
Billions of cards, chocolates and flowers are sent out
To our history-ignorant lovers on this misunderstood 'holiday'.