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Home Poetry by :Roy: Thompson 1

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Poetry by :Roy: Thompson

:Roy: Thompson
803 Splane Drive Apt. B
West Monroe, LA 71291
Home 225-612-9713
Cell (318) 348-4182
LOVE AT MIDNIGHT        What Happened?

Yesterday, you worked hard, got home at seven, 
supped on crackers, and tuna fish, leftovers, bathed little bodies, which lie tucked in, showered the long day, from your, warm & soft skin, and fell asleep.... 

You'll find at waking, I made good to your intent, to pots & pans, and folded, the few clothes, your body's clock, 
ran out on.... 

Your face, under windowed moonlight, brings to mind, our last conversation, skin to skin,  

But, I'll speak love tonight, by sliding easy, 
between our covers, and lying light in, our bed.
5/07/2018 Editing Underway
Where Forever STOPS.... (Starts Below Dedication)
....I'll be embracing your heartbeat. 1st Published in 1987

In 1987 with the publishing of "Where Forever Stops... a collection of poetry and performing "Poetry Concerts" I briefly experienced what it is like to order anything I would like to eat, stay a night in a hotel rooms that cost more than my annual rent today, drive the sports car popular with doctors, have women waiting to meet me at a local club (Thanks "Mike  Roberts".), more dates than a sane man needs, doing book signings, being treated by businesses like a VIP, & others trying to control & pimp me. I learned this Fame & Fortune for me, was not bringing me "Coherent Satisfaction”. Last I was offered advertising as "Americana's Christian Romantic Poet" and preforming with popular singers and groups. (Thanks Mickey Humphreys [deceased] & Dr. Kevin Finley] I left this "America's Romantic Poet" behind me to pursue "a journey that could bring me Coherent Satisfaction, searching for the most rewarding Clearly Defined Worthy End Goal there could possibly be ". A journey that ended at the beginning of a new journey the day I looked into the reality of Pure Love & Pure Truth, Loving Myself, Loving Everyone Connected Directly to me and Loving All My Neighbors. 

This collection is dedicated to the one whose love  diligently sought me through darkness to show me what mercy is...To Our Almighty Creator of All/Everything who wants to relate to you and me as our Loving Father, Abba Father, Daddy and His only natural son, Our Savior from Condemnation, Friend and Brother, The Creator of All Things in Immortalized Body Human with us.   

In finishing this collection I hope to honor my earthly dad, W.L. Thompson, Jr. who loves and prays for me in heaven, and to honor my mother, Carmen (Elsie) Thompson, who loves and prays for me from her little house in South Louisiana. 

Words by Roy Thompson
Photography by Cindy Lindstrom
Published by: PARAGON PUBLISHING HOUSE, INC, 805 North 30th Street, Monroe, Louisiana 71201 Ph (318) 329-8040

All works in this book, suggesting or expressing the romance of a physical relationship between people are to be understood as a relationship of a husband (a male) and his wife (a female).

The Story behind the Book WHERE FOREVER STOPS
News-Star-World Sunday, August 30, 1987 Section B Poet loses treasures in robbery Friends try to find unpublished works By ELEANOR RUSHING Staff Writer.

ELEANOR RUSHING, Roy Thompson says the worth of his romantic poetry books can't be measured in terms of money. 

That's why friends are offering a reward and a private investigator is searching for them."If the books are published and they sold, they could be worth as much as $100,000." The 39-year-old construction worker said with me asking him to guest. 

I admitted to ELEANOR that I really had not thought about my writings worth in terms of money but was in love with writing something others enjoyed reading and listening to being read to them. At her insisting I came up with a figure she seemed to be happy with. 

The completed manuscripts, 2.5 months away from publication, where stolen July 29, from Thompson's faded blue pickup truck while he waited tables in a downtown Monroe,restaurant."The poems where old friends. I can't replace replace the loss." 

Thompson said. Investigator Kevin Smith said it will be difficult to find the manuscripts because they have no commercial value. "They have probably been discarded, We're hoping someone has found them and will come forth. We're offering a reward ($330) and not prosecution." 

Kevin figured any more of a reward would just be over the top for the person(s) that would have broken my window residing in community around the down town area. And if you made it to high if it would not work at all as that might scare them off. He offered little hope of their recovery and his experience was right.)  

Smith said Thompson is not paying him. He said a mutual friend asked him to help Thompson, whom he has never met. "He sounds very nice. It's a terrible thing to have creative work taken from you. It's hard to replace. I haven't asked, but I do hope to get a free copy of his book when it's published." Smith said. 

(Roy's note: He did with much gratitude) Thompson, who is a slender with curly salt and pepper hair, started writing about four years ago while recovering from a construction accident. His first poem, "To Be A Man," was inspired by a friend. He said he hasn't written anything about the theft, nor has he thought much about who stole them.

Thompson said friends have returned copies, but the stolen ones had been edited and revised and were almost completely different.

He said most of the poems, which where in a briefcase locked in the truck, were composed in local restaurants. 

Works stolen include "Where Forever Stops." a collection of romantic poems, "Blue Heaven," a romantic novel; and "Places, " a synopsis of a collection of poems about people in Monroe, West Monroe, Downsville and Ruston. There were also lyrics that had been written as background for poetry readings. A typewriter, a Bible, and a case of Coke also were stolen. 

The works were to be published by Paragon Publishing House Inc. Paragon owner Dr. Henry A. Harbuck said Paragon will publish the poems and book as soon as Thompson finishes restructuring them. Harbuck said he is publishing Thompson's work free. "I've been knowing him for quite some time. I wanted to help him. I felt he needed this one chance. When you're unknown it's hard to get someone to publish your works. 

"Another of Thompson's friends, Dr. Marty F. Beasley, who has won several state and national awards including the New York New Dramatist Award in 1970, volunteered her time to edit Thompson's poems. "It's a shame they were stolen. They were a treasure in a sense." Beasley, a retired Louisiana Tech University professor who is now a member of the Lincoln Parish School Board, described Thompson as sensitive. "He looks deep into the heart of what he's trying to write about. 

He looks more deeply than other people and he articulates it so well. "Despite Thompson's lack of education - he drooped out of school in the ninth grade and earned a GED about 10 years ago - Beasley said Thompson is comfortable among intellectuals. 

MY EDUCATION; dropped out of Pride High School when I was 17 and began trade school which classes I was in closed down before I had finished the course in Electronics. I went to work at a local sand and gravel pit and when I was 18 joined a union my grandpa, dad and uncle belonged to and began making more money than my pears. When I was 19, I went to Spencer Drone Business College where I learned to type and met Emma R., Miss Nicaragua of 1969. 

I road a bicycle 21 mile to college and 21 miles back home to Dearford Louisiana five days a week until I moved into Baton Rouge.     

I was attending North East University when Paragon Publishing House told me they needed the manuscript finished in a month. This was my first semester and I was taking a creative writing course and had not told anyone there about "Where Forever Stops" and as it turned out no one had read Eleanor's article or put me and the article together in their minds. 

I left North East University with a 4.0. But as soon as the article had come out I began to get invitations for dates from some of the most beautiful (Mass Media's Idea of physical beauty) girls on campus working on their BA's Masters and PhD's. I was quit overwhelmed by this. And began to realize how my sisters and many women must feel almost like a piece of meat cooked up for their dinner with no grateful thankfulness or consideration for the animal just physical hunger lust to satisfy an appetite. 

I wanted desperately to find a connection with a woman's physical beauty and the beauty of her heart mind and soul, but there was none to be found. Many of the women whom men find less attractive (according to the brainwashing propaganda of Magazines, Movies and  Television Media) to them where some of the most beautiful to get to know. 

Meany of the less physically attractive girls to men where seemingly more capable of a lifetime of committed and genuine love.

I know now that the beauty of a man or womans body or their money and social status and education pales and fades within the corridors of time while the beauty of their hearts and souls and minds last forever and those are the treasure to build a life' and love with. 

And I know now that the world is filled with women who like me longs for committed love with complete acceptance of who I am at my worst, and my best is a blessing to both of us and visa versa.)     

"He is a likable person," Beasley said, "He almost has a Peter Pannish type approach to life. "He's not moody or explosive. He's almost charismatic in getting people to do what he wants."Reprinted by permission of News-Star-World

Within two months after the robbery, while friends were distributing reward posters for the return of Roy's stolen manuscripts, typewriter, Bible and briefcase, Roy was constructing the last lines of this reconstructed and now publishes manuscript "Where Forever Stops". As he says, 

with editing by :Roy"
The key to my success in reconstructing "Where Forever Stops" is that friends helped me through long nights to recall fragments of poetry. They returned old unedited poems, encouraged and prayed for me. My success is a story of Love from those who trust in Our Almighty Creator of All/Everything Father, Abba Father (Daddy) and his only natural son, Our Savior, Friend and Brother The Resurrected Messiah. ROY'S AFTER THE FACT NOTES:"And they will know me by your love for one another".Our Savior from Condemnation (John 3-17), Friend & Brother The Now Pure Love & Pure Truth Resurrected Creator of All Things with Us provides me and everyone and everything else a future of "Pure Love & Pure Truth" (Ephesians 1:7-10). 

Note: 2018 It is very interesting today that 70% of all scientist both from the Atheist Religionists and Christian Religionists believe The Creator of All Things "Pure Love & Pure Truth" was Resurrected in physical body. Of course they most of them, refer to him by the only, the less than 500 years old name "Jesus" which seams to have 1st belonged to the Serapis Cult for 2,000 years? See Coherent Satisfaction Page 2 of 2 for more Investigative Research Musings on these and other subjects. My conclusion is that Love Is What Truly from the now to the forevermore, Matters, "Loving Ourselves, Loving One Another & Loving All Our Neighbors" and it all begins with Loving Yourself!.             Dr. Joel Wallach Nutrients Consult 360-837-1080

CREDITS The following gave of their time and talent in the search of the stolen manuscripts and construction of "Where Forever Stops....

Bill Reagen and Cory Thompson Channel 10 KTVE

Elinore Rushing News Star WorldChuck 
Redden - KNAN - Magic 106
Kevin Smith - FM 94
Lorinda Jordan - KARD TV
John DeGiovanni - Ouachita Citizen

Thanks to our Models: Ray Cartwright and Barbie Chavers in "On Thomas Road"

Nona and Pual Ledford in "Blue Heaven"
Nona in "One" 
Vicki Valentine in "The House of Carla"
Tracy Borden in "September"and "Just You"
Yvonne Ferguson in "Three"
Sharon Lindsay in "A Kiss"
Special Thanks to:Bill Austin and Staff, El Chico restaurant, Ruston Louisiana
Glen Smith for the use of his farm on weekends Valerie Chase Thompson for use of "San Lou" and Easter Hill. 
Mary Fowler (Marty) Beasley, Ph.D., for the critiqueing.
Dwaine and Jean Jordan, Snuffy's Grocery in "Country Store"
Joy Mitchum's rocking chairs In "April Rain
"Huddle House in "June 10th"La Hacienda in "Thomas Road"
A very special thank to Ann Jackson for her many hours of hard work and dedication in the promotion of this book.
KLove (Rachel Selena Crain) who's poem 
"A Birthday Card for Daddy" I love...

Thursday 10/03/2013, Friday October 25, 2013, Wednesday October 30, 2013, Monday September 07, 2015 / 11 th Month 2017

Glen Smith for the use of his farm on weekends Valerie Chase Thompson for use of "San Lou" and Easter Hill. 
Mary Fowler (Marty) Beasley, Ph.D., for the critiquing.
Dwaine and Jean Jordan, Snuffy's Grocery in "Country Store"
Joy Mitchum's rocking chairs In "April Rain
"Huddle House in "June 10th"La Hacienda in "Thomas Road"
A very special thank to Ann Jackson for her many hours of hard work and dedication in the promotion of this book.
KLove (Rachel Selena Crain) who's poem "A Card for Dad's 65 Years" I love... 
KLove Is The Largest Blessing Any Man Could Ever Want. This Work & My Life Is Dedicated 2U. I Love You Daughter, "KLove :Rachel: Selena-Crain".


Thursday 10/03/2013, Friday October 25, 2013 Wednesday October 30, 2013, Monday September 07, 2015, 11 th Month 2017

Poetry by
KLove :Rachel: Selena-Crain

We are all forever 
        children with
        endless amounts
                to learn...
Dad's :Roy: Thompson's 65th

& Some of the most Beautiful things in life have a way of making you feel like a child again though like the trees we grow & grow 
with each new days sun. 
Inside us all still rest the restless child we each were when life begun. 

We are all forever children with endless amounts to learn.

So although I may grow, & travel lands vast and far, change my hair, my cloths,
my job, my home, or my hobbies I will always be a little girl, never forgetting her roots.

On this day you grow one year older, we each age a day,  lets remember that we all forever should find time for play...        happy 65th year

Where Forever Stops....



If I can catch
     the silver thread
     of friendship
             the flows
     from your heart
          through time
             and space,
     I shall follow it
      to my life's end
      and hope
      it turns to LOVE


Let's go with friends
of yours and mine,
chat over dinner,

not paired as dates...
nothing heavy
        like romance...

Let's dance,
and let our eyes
and arms
be friends tonight
-- friends in song
-- friends in laughter
-- friends in love,
       with friendship

before there were
cars with backseats
and drive-in movies
when all went home
       feeling fine

when there were
-- gentlemen
-- and ladies
And gallantry
and chivalry
were full alive

Let's be friends,
with friends of yours
and friends of mine.


And Friends
can fall in love--
stranger things 
   have happened--

But only a friend
can love,
and only friends
can make love--
but they don't 
          have to.

let's be friends
and see
what adventures 
friendship brings
           to you and me...


It is not
a cheap affair
        I want,

But a life-long
     holding on
     and loving
through the good
        and sad,
and making more
         of love
   than you or I
 have ever had...



As if it were not
the millionth recital:
from my lips

(The Eaglet's
first fall
from it's nest:

With each flapping
trees grow taller--
a heart 
beats faster--

its own noon shadow
shrinking to its size

Educated feathers,
cupping air,
begin to rise.)

Their sounds launched,
their weight gone,

strong is the joy

of my first


Return my love,
and our hearts, joined
as a pair of wings,
shall fly.

There is a longing
in everyone's heart
to be loved
and to love,
but there is a loneliness
still deeper
that only Our Creator Father
Abba Father, Daddy can fill.

I know you understand
your heart
is not different 
but I believe
its ability 
to feel Our Creator 
Father's presence
may be greater
than my own.

draw closer,
to one another
               and to Him.




Beauty and Burden
Tension and Fulfillment
Deep Longing and 
Feelings of Anger 
and Rejection 
and Hostility Overcome
Gladness and Pain...

The Art of Giving, Often
What You Want to Get;
Of Saying No
To Our Own Selfishness:
Of Letting Go, 
Of Setting Free.

Whether married or single,
the task is still the same:
to live a fulfilled life
with unfilled shallow 
desires and dreams.

A Feeling, to be Learned...
Love is a feeling to be
and Love is More
Love is Growing Up
Love is Trusting
Love is Commitment
Love is Understanding
That We Can Not Love
Until We Have Accepted
The Real and True Love 
Provided for us by
None Other Than
The Almighty Always Loving
Creator of All Things and
His Extension of His Always 
Loving Self to you and me 
and everyone else . . . . .

The Now Resurrected Creator of All Things
In Body Human with Us!!!!.... (Prince of Peace)

Together they are
the embodiment of Forever Love

Cast All Your Cares of Him,
for He, The Almighty Always
Loving Creator of All Things
Is Pure Love and Pure Truth
Who Cares for You & me!!! 

(a tribute to Walter Trobisch)

IF I exclusively 
cling to you
and you to me, 
when death comes to one,
           it will still come
                to the other,
But if 
we cling
to the 
wholesome dream

trusting all 
our cares to 
The Almighty, 
Always Loving
Creator of All Things,
our Abba Father, 
our Always Loving Daddy

we'll walk 
behind death's door
              arm in arm 
              once and again
              forever more...




IF I exclusively 
cling to you
and you to me, 
when death comes to one,
           it will still come
                to the other,
But if 
we cling
to the 
wholesome dream

trusting all 
our cares to 
The Almighty, 
Always Loving
Creator of All Things,
our Abba Father, 
our Always Loving Daddy

we'll walk 
behind death's door
              arm in arm 
              once and again
              forever more...

Since we met,

I have seen the sun shine
a little brighter every day
         in your soft smile- -

       and it is warming me
                with blankets
                 of your love.


This farm 
in summer
and in the absence 
of you   is hot...

every man and beast
who plods earth
with mouth drawn
from thirst
longs for breeze
and shade...

Heat so thick
it falls in sheets...
slowly, ever slowly
through the ground

until it is joined
by heat from hell
and burst forth
in waves, sucking
from the pond and 
it once had.

The earth is parched,
dry, still,
and quit,
save for the sounds
of frogs and insects
crying for the rain,

and the longings
of my heart for you... 
12)    HOLD ME

        I would like 
        to shed a tear...

        I feel the sad
        but I won't cry...
        Please hold me...
               I'm just
        a trembling man...

 13)   attractively energetic
         and enthusiastic




      No roaring fire
      no bearskin rug
      no blanket or hot mug
              could warm me
      like your presence

      And no one
                loves you
                like I do.
14)    Husbands and Wives


Break the wraps that wrapped around your growing up--
spread you silk tapestries
                    and fly!

Be not afraid:
the warmth and rhythm 
    underneath you
    is love pulsating
    through my open palm.

Launch a new life
       of adventures 
          in the the sun,
          and in between them
          use my body
                 to rest on.



         it is you...
         all my days
         and nights...

         you i see,
         in windows
         behind my eyes
         closed tight...

         you i hold 
         in daydreams
         while living 
         out the day...

         you i want,
         and long for
         to come with me
         and stay...


     When I met you
     I thought of you
     only as a person
     later as a friend,

     But your wanting me
         was irresistible--
              more charm
     than I have ever known.

 17)    Husbands and Wives

          JUST YOU

         The rose's

    delicate symmetric

    petals, holding color

         in a bud

      or opened flower,

       in comparison

        it's beauty
      is insignificant
        next to you...

        next to you


          in soft 


        or just you...
   18)    ATTRACTING


Our Father, Abba Father, Daddy
help us
strive for understanding
of each other's   humanness
and overlook
        each other's faults.

       we cannot cuddle
          within our arms,
          teach us
          to cuddle them
          within our hearts

Let all
who look into our eyes
    feel the friendship
    of your presence
    and reach for you
        with both hands.


There is a time you'll sow,
and a time you'll reap,
but you will never grow
                   a rainbow
   from a watermelon seed...
nor will you grow happiness
         by planting frowns,
         or harvest joy...    
 ambiguously standing round.

But since you met Our Savior,
Friend and Brother
The Resurrected Messiah
you've been sowing 
seeds of kindness...
watering them with care,
growing colorful,
sporting a sunshine smile...

If you'd   introduce us,
           do you think 
           He'd do as much
                   for me?


I do not want you
I love you
because you are colorful
from head to toe

You are a butterfly
and I, a man in love
with the variations 
of the spectrum
splashed across your wings 

Another butterfly 
may want you for his own;

A zoologist 
may want to catch you
            in his net,

But I am just in love
                 with you
          for who you are...

21)     A KISS

          The way
          to make a kiss
          more special 
          than all the rest
          is to wait
          in the expectation

         AT ITS BEST

To get the most of life,
you must respect life...
in whatever from it's found

A good man regards the life
of animals and people,
whether enemies or friends

A wise man is humbled 
   in the presence of
the lilies of the valley!
no human raiment
is as beautiful as theirs.

Sometimes a gentle man
can feel
the heartbeat of a rose,
He is kind and cares.

A man's destiny...can change
with the first glance
            of a lady
I've changed since you,
and as life moves
            toward the son
from here to there
I'll be in love...

           I'll be in love
                   with you. 

         JUST CARING

There are more things
     that touch you
     than you can touch
                  or handle.

Then it is sufficient
           just to care.

More things touch me
     than I can touch
          but I go on caring.

The Butterfly lay wounded,
              in between 
            the yellow lines
              in the midst of
               heavy traffic
            at the center of
               the road.

Who is more helpless,
    in need of Our Father
    of All Creations help?
 ...The butterfly 
        that's loved,
        or we who love
           the Butterfly?

         BELIEVE IT

that every teardrop springs
     from happiness or pain...

in being friends
in love
in marriage
and all the joy
and hurt they bring...

in walking heart in heart
   through the heat
               of summer
               all of fall
               and winter
   and thoroughly enjoying

in traveling
   arm in arm
   with eyes focused
   on a common dream...

Believe, Believe,
         in you and me
         in love,
         in love Forever
         Throughout Eternity



I should have never told you
         that I love you,
but the poetry I write 
        betrays my heart...

I should have kept
              my poetry
              to facts...
facts like 
love is more 
than warming someone's bed...
that love is unselfish,
often giving
what you want to get;
that love goes on loving,
even in the face of rejection
that love is kind
             and never pushy;
not a closed but open hand;
you love like that; 
since I met you,
I can not think 
or write of love
and not think 
or write of you.

To define love
is to write your name...
   But who else would 

  26)     FOR THIS DAY


The man your heart 
             longs for...

The only one whose 
             patience never

He is the one that, invited
will enter
and forever
make a home
within your heart...

The listener, who
will always listen...

The comforter, who
will always comfort...

The securer of life
in life,
through life,
and beyond death....

And any good in me 
                you see,
    you can be sure
    it is not of me,
    but He...

    He is the lover
    our hearts look for,

    He is the one
    that can make
    my love for you
    and yours for me
    a committed love
    grounded in reality...


        Day by Day

Day by day

is the only way

to face

this life's 


But the solace comes

when daytime is done:

for night by night

my nights 

are ever sweeter

because I am

          with you.

 28)    FOR THIS DAY


I see love and beauty
  but I feel them most
        holding your
                close to mine.


Oh Beautiful Strangers,
falling down in darkness,
sometimes for just a night,
taking, for
        your pleasures,...
the child
    within you is dying.

Beautiful Strangers,
never staying long enough
to build empathy and trust,
to bear the other's burdens,
or hear the child
            within them 

Oh Strangers,
filled with romantic notions
to fulfill your 
           master (lust)
The child within you died.
You're old now (alone)


Oh Beautiful Committed Love
holding us together
           through valleys
           where lilies

Through deserts
        where palm trees

Through rains
where every plant is soaked,
            then kissed 
            with sunshine...

Beautiful Committed Love,
          keeping us
          from strangers,
and in each other's arms,
          while strangers
          grow old with

Committed Love
beautifully intrinsic
through all our days
            and nights...

31)    Husbands and Wives


It is not as if I lie in bed,
spotting cobwebs on the 
while you finish your
                 woman's work
                 and are ready 
                       for me.

We both have jobs...
You wash clothes and do dishes
I weed-eat, and mow
(or vice versa)
whatever needs be done,
we've done together.

It is just the sun 
               goes down
               so soon;
our bodies, working,
use our hearts' 
        energy, reserved
        to enjoy each other.

I think we should 
           sell the house,
           the land and cars
           buy a tent,
           two horses,
           and a piece of
                 Indian Lake
far out and private.
Then, like natives,
run naked on the beach
                 and love...

But you can't
        air condition a tent,
                     can you?

I guess not...I love you.

I love you to...
           Good night, 
              my love

32)    Husbands and Wives


We don't keep 
the church alive!

We are the church,
and it is Our
Savior, Friend & Brother
who keeps us alive,
And we are alive!
And shall be alive,
now in the flesh
       and then immortal...
because He lived a man, died,
and lives again for
                you and me...

It is because of Him
that our work,
our play, and our bed
are so enjoyable today...

It is He I see in your eyes,
behind your soul
at the beginning 
of our skins' touch...
joining into all 
the pleasures He bestows...

33)     Husbands and Wives


I see Our Almighty Creator
Father's hand everywhere
but I feel Him most
holding your heartbeat
             close to mine
             and watching
             our children play
34)    Husbands and Wives

        TO BE A MAN

A Man, A Man, I shall be
a man of great love 
               and loyalty

a man of great honor and

a man of great courage
         and heroic deeds...
But, Our Almighty Creator
     Father of Everything
     Abba Father, Daddy
What is this 
you are telling me?
That the Greatest Battles
I might fight 
are not on horse 
with armor bright?

But in my home both 
          day and night?
Against my own lack
               of caring.
lack of empathy, 
and lack of sharing...

That my rewards of victories
--land and cattle may not be
--but a share of 
--dishpan hands
--dirty babe's behinds
--and clothes to be 
hung out on the line.

Can't I just work 
      and buy the bread?
      Pay for a place
      to lay our heads?
Must I help make the beds?
     Knead the dough?
     Listen to my wife
     and children's woes?

But this can not be...
    this far exceeds 
    My Self Interest
    and Macho Image
    --Can't You See?

My Abba 
Help Me!
Or a real man 
I shall never be...
35)    Husbands and Wives


you worked hard,
got home at seven,
supped on crackers
and tuna fish,
bathed little bodies
which lie tucked in,
showered the long day
         from your
         warm & soft skin
         and fell asleep...

You'll find at waking,
I made good to your intent
            to pots & pans
and folded the few clothes
your body's clock 
            ran out on....

Your face,
under windowed moonlight,
brings to mind
our last conversation 
         skin to skin,

I'll speak love tonight
        by sliding easy
     between our covers
and lying light in 
                our bed.
36)    Husbands and Wives


Silent and slow, 
    snow drifted
through her hair 
      and lashes...

Winter has settled
    on each temple,
covering the spring
    we use to know,

a silver-throated
nightingale's song
              from deep
within a December forest...

more beautiful 
          than poetry
    about the corners 
    of her eyes, say, 
"Love Is Everlasting."

37)    Husbands and Wives


She is no longer
       "The Flash Dancer"--
   but uncovered undercover,
       she is the ballerina

Not just my woman
But the mold-Being molded
         almost completed
         to mold angels--

the one who brings heaven
               to my life...

38)    Husbands and Wives


If Our Father 
of All Creations
Our Abba Father, Daddy
should grace us
       with life and age:

Weather our car
is a late or early model,
with new or faded paint,
is not the point:

When we are seated,
and our eyes meet,
will you still be the Poet?
The Poet that looks
past the shallow make-up
           into my heart?
Will you still scratch words
                    on paper
                    that say
                    You see
                  me as the, 
                   of love"?

I do not wish you and I
become one, Merging to
where you could not see me
(The individual) 
(in the undividable us).

Will you still 
         find new words?
and ways to surprise me?
Will you still desire me?
I hope always it is so!

Please, don't 
        run out of 
        poetic lines,
free verse or rhyme;

Please, always be 
The Poet That Loves Me...
and the 
quivering of my aging
will pass with gentility
               and grace
         from this earth
into the arms of Our Abba
         Father, Daddy...
         Forever More....

39)    Husbands and Wives


I have embraced 
love and pain
Through them both,
The beauty of 
Our Creator Father's Joy...

There is peace
in the thought
of our reunion
in the presence 
of Our Creator
Abba Father, Daddy's joy...

But all of life I need now
surrounds me in His Creations
our children, grand children,
and the friends I love.......

40)    Forever/Eternally
          IN AETERNUM


In a world 
   of artificial flowers,
   I have found a rose
   who is alive and real--

A rose,
whose roots run deep
      into the heart of life
      and fill her with
      poetry and song...

A rose,
whose leaves and petals
      dance gracefully in
      the gentle breeze 
          of age passing by..

A rose,
who passes 
    across the sight of men
    like an oasis in a desert

I could drink forever
of the inspiration
       of her eyes and smile,
share every word
      the world has known
      with her
      and still 
          not have touched 
          all the beauty
          of her soul...

41)     Forever/Eternally
          IN AETERNUM
       Is it forever?
       or just
       the glorious moment
       I look into your eyes 
       and see your soul?
42)    Forever/Eternally
          IN AETERNUM


I feel you heart
missing me--
fearing I might sink
death's great divide...

Don't fear!
I'm coming
we'll embrace once more,
I know the Way...

The Way is Our 
Savior, Friend and Brother
The Resurrected Messiah...
and He will carry me...
till I am by your side....

43)    Forever/Eternally
          IN AETERNUM


I saw you with someone else,
looking quite happy
although his car 
             wouldn't start,
             and someone had
             to jump it off.

Your happiness doesn't 
               make me sad,
               the friends
               you keep;

But you never knew me
              or loved me,
              the way 
              I love you...

I Love You
for inspiration 
    for writing poems
    for the writing
    was my dream
    all along...

44)     JUNE 10TH
           In The 
           Huddle House Cafe

I am in a Monroe cafe 
on Thomas Road, 
in one of five chairs at the corner of an "L" shaped seating arrangement, while others fill booths of four and high stools by the bar. 

Outside rain is still pouring down-the fourth day in a row. 

People are crowded in for lunch. Someone punched the juke box: "I WANT TO BE-BOP WITH YOU BABY" plays loud, mixing sound with people's talk, dishes being stacked on dishes; cups, saucers, forks, knives, and spoons shuffled for the wash, with scraping of the grill, and the ice box being open/shut.

Scents of perfume, cigarettes, a cigar, steaming coffee, hot waffles, all making up the aroma of the Huddle House Cafe on this, another bleak and sunless day.

Pushing my imagination to the first draft of this poem, the juke box is now playing "WHY NOT ME" and I think "WHY NOT!" As I spot two cute girls looking my way. I know I've seen them here before. We exchange smiles. As they get up to leave. I glance at my watch and notice it is 12:34 and they are walking toward me. "Hi, I'm Brenda" - - And I'm Sharon." Hi, I'm Roy." 

And I think to myself, "It's going to be a nice day after all." 


In fall, 
with leaves falling,
we walked on these
fallen tapestries 
beneath our feet...
and blacktop trails
and over bridges
above Kiroli Creek
we kissed
with our eyes and smiles
while throwing coins
into the water...

wishing wishes
thanking Our Almighty 
Father of All Creations
for our togetherness...

We gathered samples
of nature's beauty,
now pressed
between memories
        and pages 

In summer's heat, now
I venture to the center
of our favorite bridge,
throw pennies
      that disappear
      in moon light...

Wish you were here,
with your hand in mine
our gazes caressing
instead of our
familiar voices
once and then again
too far apart
filtered strange
through air and phone lines
and the reality 
        of our distance,
        chilling me 
        sultry nights...


A sunny Sunday evening, 
October 26, 1986...

I pulled off I-20 on to the road to Farmerville, then into a parking space at the Cotton Patch Cafe. 

She pulled in beside me in an old worn painted car, dressed in an intentionally tear-ridden tee shirt, patched old blue jeans, rumpled thick pink wool socks, in half-tied, once retired shoes. 

She pulled a garage sale sweater over her rat-ta-tat blouse and soon stood at the restaurant counter beside me--the counter that today stands (for me) a monument 
to my momentous shame. . . monumental shame built by my misuse of words.

This is how the conversation went: "You must be dressed for a masquerade or something." "No, these are just my clothes." "Ho."

I said nothing kind, just threw a dagger into a young girl's heart. 

I said nothing true, like: "You are beautiful, with a creative flair for dress and I think that's great." I could have, But I had nothing kind to say. Thinking back, I cried."

To the girl,
I am the man who was dressed in a white shirt (three years old with a tear in the back) with sleeves rolled up, a brown vest (which belonged to a suit six years old) over that, brown pants that barely matched, socks with holes you could not see and black shoes seven years and counting (polished with cordovan wax - saved from a war long past). 

I am the white skinned man with gray and black curly hair, mustache, and beard, who drove the 77 Honda wagon, with brown faded paint, and torn driver's seat. 

I am the man who is sorry. Please, for give me?

I have shared this with all of you, in hopes you will help me remember to always be kind and forgiving: a way to avoid monuments of shame...



   Inspiring Words of Hope
   See My Testimony Below

The House of Carla

The sign outside
sported some Spanish name
A lover of fajitas,
I pulled in and stopped.

A waitress, voicing 
greetings in Spanish, 
French, and English--
a brunette - - 
An Angelic Attractive
took my order and 
brought me plates 

We had spoken before
in another Cafe in 
West Monroe, we talked
of her past friendship 
with a guy who wrote poetry
who broke her heart - - -

This girl encouraged me. inspired me in my writings
yet I know her not... and 
she was smart, really smart!
An attractive former model.

To this day lasting past
the satisfaction 
of Mexican Cuisine
is the memory
of the warm and friendly
the pretty face
with chiseled chin
the waitress shirt
slight bulged at pockets
tapered around thin waist
tucked into black pants
legging down past calves
to shoes warn for comfort...
the loving smile 
and brown eyes of: Carla

The Story Behind the Poem

   Inspiring Words of Hope

Now let's go back back to the moment that kindled the thirst in me for my words approval...

I had no idea except in my most recent years that I lived with some disabilities... Handicaps that disguised themselves for many years... making the conventional way of learning hard for me... and my sometimes feeling like a slow learner...  Continued Below Left<....

Near your border, 
Ouachita Parish, Louisiana
on Highway 151
there is a 
Snuffy's Grocery and Hardware
Store where your phone line stops.

People come from far and wide
who live beyond your AT&T lines
to drop a quarter in to lose, 
and wait-impatiently
with another quarter to follow at the tone...

Yet they come,
They come to buy feed for animals, food, drinks, 
and supplies for doing jobs
around their homes and farms

But for their money,
they get more than 
bartered for...

They get a smile
and loving friendship
if they want

in Snuffy's there are chairs that line a corner
like 'round the old time pickle barrel where old timers used to spend an hour,

a morning or an evening 
to talk and see who is OK, 
who needs help and who can give it. . . 

or tell the best story ever told...

Today, though, they're more empty, for everybody is out chasing dollars in a storm.

But Dwain and Jean have not forgotten the source of their love for others...

Often you may catch them singing, rehearsing 
to Dwain's guitar 
and Cary's Drumming,

Rehearing in their studio (between the store 
and feed storage building);
Rehearsing for Sunday's
which they spend with older folks in communal homes...

Come on, come on down and listen to Dwain, Jean and Cary sing and play at
Snuff's Grocery and Hardware Store on Ouachita Parish, Louisiana's border 
on Highway 151. 

Maybe I will be blessed 
and see you there...
at Snuff's Country Store... 

....Continued From Above By listening to a conversation I had taped with me and someone else, I discovered, I sometimes say things just opposite of what I believe I am saying, and sometimes I say things quite totally different than what I think I am saying all together and that was disturbing...  

Evidence from friends suggest I may not cognitively register all the words others speak to me either...

OUCH! As it turns our I seem to have a reading, writing and speaking dyslexia and there is evidence I may not cognitively register all the words spoken to me either. This means I have trouble reading, writing and speaking. 

Boy could this explain some loss of friendships... 
LOL/ NO Not Funny At All /LOL

A friendly lady with a PhD in Education helped me for a while and verified some of my disabilities to me and told me I was much like one of her grandsons who had problems similar to my own but could put a Adult LayGo set of building blocks together in just a few days that was designed for adults to complete and I think she said a month's time. 

While her grandson could do this with building blocks she said I seemed to have an aptitude for putting dots together of what is the hidden pieces, what is going on and what fits together for making things dysfunctional or could help make them be more functional. In other words the deceptions in the world, Reality and Truth behind all the smoke screens of deceptions. 

I think differently and my disabilities made schooling judge me as struggling, slow but smart. 

Two of my most relevant memories at nine years old where 

1) being an asthmatic, small and not athletic facing the neighborhood bully and hitting him to protect my sisters resulting with him having a jaw broken in two places.

2) a argument with my dad about the wooden model fling toys I made for myself with my Creator Daddy's help  
and how they would fly. 

Dad studied aviation in the armed forces. He was sure they would not fly and said something to me about Einstein's theories to which I replied, "Einstein's theories would not hold and my toys will fly. 

I always believed he was proud of me for facing the neighborhood bully but shuck his head with me who could not pass my grades at school telling him Einsteins theories would not hold. 

At age 36 in a Television documentary almost all my toys where flying. 

With the discovery of Quantum Mechanic Einstein realized his theories would hold. 

So I discovered that our educational system was wrong labeling million of us children who where smart but think deferentially as rejects. 
Now to the point. 

Not knowing the above after three years on crutches form some construction work related accidents (taking all the dangerous job others or whole crews of men would not do proving my macho and believing I was smart and careful enough not to get hurt/Stupid!) my wife of 15 years wanted a divorce. 

She is the one who deserves a metal for staying with me for 15 years.

Valerie was and I am sure still  very smart, 
and also very attractive...

Before we went our separate
ways on the little farm she
always wanted, with horses,
a pond, a dog and ducks,
and trees and flowers...
We Named, "Easter Hill"
she asked me if I know what
I wanted to do with my life?

My reply was I wanted to be
a writer. To which she
replied. You are stupid!!! 
And something like, "You
cannot even spell you name!

Valerie is not to blame, 
an alcoholic dad programmed  
her that way. 

I am sure as a counselor she is not at all the same today. But an even a more beautiful soul...

Almost one year latter Valerie was at one of my
autographing but her words
"You are stupid!" still 
rang so loud in my ears 
that I, (all though I desperately wanted to), could not respond,
Ho! How I Wanted To...
She was my wife for 15 years.

And this left me in search for "Inspiring Words of Hope"
that I heard from Carla college student waitress about my writing.

NOTE: What is a poem or any words for, if not as believers and opportunity to encourage by being real and vulnerable to show that all of us are in need of each others prayers and love and forgiveness. That we all do things wrong and virtue is not over covering our humanness but bringing it to light and forgiving with letting go of all self condemnation, and loving ourselves (not our selfishness) and each other. 

When I have been in the middle of a wrong attitude, thinking and doing wrong and someone calls for prayers does Our Almighty, Ever Living, Always Loving Creator of All Things, Abba Father, "Always Loving Daddy^ not listen to me. "NO!" 

"YES!, Of Course He dose and You and I continue to see Him answer our prayers. 

He is always totally attentive and supportive and everything with Him toward us is good thoughts! Never, Never, Never Condemning!!!!!!

He is My, Our "Always Loving Daddy^" and does listen to and answers me and you in our wrong & right. 

No more am I dependent on others approving words. 

I am no longer on a performance bases with 
anyone and Our Almighty Always Loving Creator, 
Abba Father, Daddy^ does not and has not put me or you on a performance basses either.  

SEE: "Freeing Female Dignity",
"Am I Believing A Lie and The Search for Significance" and 
"The Cornerstones of Biblical Faith" in the navigation bars at the top of this page.  

Thank You, 
Be Blessed:


On the farm "Easter Hill"
On highway 151 three miles
south of Downsville...

The sun squints over
the woods and field's
(a shine on dew drops)
a million 
tiny stars grounded

One morning at pasture
two colts played 
shadow kicking in the air

Lou "the old mare" grazed
unimpressed by
the younger pair...

Sam a German shepherd
lay in the yard   sleeping

a dachshund once "Puppy"
within the Hill  resting...

a mallard hen "Henny" 
voiced greetings
to incoming friends
as they splashed down 
in the pond so near...

A memory of beauty...
A trailered house, a yard, 
a pond, and a stable sold... 
a thinking man now rides
- celebrating - a walk 
into life through fear...

Easter Hill 
a little farm
once died, now shared 
(with friends) - - - 
Is alive
and beauty in the minds
of rational feeling minds,
feeling eyes 
and feeling ears...

         BLUE HEAVEN
        (a love story)

Bluff Creek's white sand
the grant magnolia stands
your blue blanket
covering pine straw 
              on the ground
you and I 
lying shoulder to shoulder
flowers in the tree

The time 
I was counting 1, 2, 3
and you
on top of me
and with our arms
and legs entangled
         we rolled
         into the creek

The forest 
    held the highway
    miles away back then
Keeping our Eden
            (we thought)
from all other men...

Blue Heaven    Blue Heaven

A Story Lost / Stolen
one day to be reconstructed               


I walk the "One Mile" trail
  at DeGray Lake Reservoir
     where a tree is downed
             upon another...

The other is bent
    from the fallen's weight
    but at its hight
    it it growing, stretch-
    ing it leaved arms
           to flag the sun.

Another is sharing limbs
        and trunk with
        green fern parasite,
        paying for 
        plant companionship
        with half 
        and all it life...

Gideon has been down this
sheep wool fleeces still
lie on rock and ground...

I am near one, 
     sitting cross
             gray softness
     with my open palm...

listening as a whippoorwill
fills the air
      with sounds of
          "I am alone..."

I was half bent,
but I am standing now,
    giving my life for words,
    for romance, and love,
    looking for an answer,
    an answer, to
    word the feel and feel
    the symmetry and rhyme,

    the symmetry and rhyme,
of the universe and time...

I am,     a man,     alone,
who needs someone
          to look with him
          into the heart
          of poetry
          and join him
              in the walk...

       If you ever-need
       to spend a life with
       or share
          a cup of coffee
          or a poem -
          remember me.


Where Forever Stops...
     I'll be embracing 
       2nd Edition
       by :Roy: Thompson