My Poems

The Elephant Family

In elephant families the females are the boss                                                                              Choosing a matriarch they are not at a loss                                                                                   The older and experienced one leads the herd                                                                          Walking in a straight line no one gets deterred

The journey is a constant search for food and water                                                           Amazingly that task is left for moms and daughters                                                                                 Young ones hold on to the tails of mothers for protection                                                                         All the adults for there young have such great affection

When family or friends meet, they have such joyful greetings                                              Spinning around, flapping ears, touching trunks, then repeating                                       Surprisingly they love to swim, role around in the water at play                                                       To quench there thirst they will drink up to fifty gallons a day

All the elephants will circle around one that is hurt or weak                                                  Even though they are very large, their disposition is meek                                                  No other animal shares this kind of caring family interaction                                                        That is why we find the elephant such a wondrous attraction

Author Eileen Clark 2022

My Paintings

Digging To China

The Summers were hot in the suburbs of our city,   We had a small sandy yard, a few toys and a kitty.                                          It was just me and my brother ages four and six,                                             We tried to dig to China with a shovel and some sticks.

Into the hole my brother presses down his ear,                                                  Be quiet little sister for I am trying to hear.                                             Running to mom shouting, I hear people talking,                                                      Dig further down son, you might see them walking.

How grand our mother was, able to keep us entertained,                               Though times were hard, we never heard her complain.                                           My children live in luxury with every electronic game,                                          If I told them to dig to China, they'd think I was insane.

Author Eileen Clark 2022

This poem has a lot of truth in it, we actually spent hours digging a hole in our back yard and listening for voices. My brother Dickie who I called Red because he had red curly hair, was positive he heard Chinese people talking and had me convinced. He also really saw the Easter bunny take a bite out of the carrot mom left for it, and he really really saw Santa take a bite out of the oatmeal cookie mom left for him on a plate. My brother was a really convincing kid over his gullible little sister.

This delightful image at the top of this post was found on~

My Paintings


It’s an interesting thing that little children do,

Catching fireflies in a jar not thinking it through.

They cover the jar and tighten the jar lid,

Placing it in the bookcase from mother it’s hid.

Tucked in their bed of a very dark room,

The tiny lights dancing as if to a tune. 

Then slowly one by one the lights go out,

It wasn’t a good idea, of this I don’t doubt.

Author Eileen Clark 2022


Just Nice

What Do You See?

What do you see nurses, what do you see?

What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?

A cranky old man not very wise,

Uncertain of habit with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food and makes no reply.

When you say in a loud voice, I do wish you’d try!

Who seems not to notice the things that you do.

And forever is losing a sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,

With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill?

Is that what you’re thinking, is that what you see?

Then open your eyes nurse you’re not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,

As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I’m a small child of ten with a father and mother,

Brothers and sisters who love one another.

A young boy of Sixteen with wings on his feet

Dreaming that soon now a lover he’ll meet.

A groom soon at Twenty, my heart gives a leap.

Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.

At Twenty five, now I have young of my own.

Who needs me to guide and a secure happy home.

A man of thirty, I’m young now grown fast,

Bound to each other with ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,

But my woman is beside me to see I don’t mourn.

At Fifty, once more, babies play ’round my knee,

Again, we know children my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my wife is now dead.

I look at the future and I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing of their own.

And I think of the years and love that I’ve known.

I’m now an old man and nature is cruel.

It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles grace and vigour, depart.

There is now a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcas a young man still dwells,

And now and again my battered heart swells

I remember the joys, I remember the pain.

And I’m loving and living life over again.

I think of the years, all too few gone too fast.

And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So open your eyes people, open and see.

Not a cranky old man, look closer and see me!

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, They found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem. And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this anonymous poem winging across the Internet.

This picture is done by an Amazing 16-Year-Old Girl Named Shania McDonagh Who Wins National Art Competition With Stunning Hyper-Realistic Pencil Portrait.

Image credit,