As on the mind of a sleeping child
A ship floated on the sea
Beneath the dark or whitish clouds
Astride a dormant storm
Suffused throughout the sea.
A maiden's pocketful of jewelry
Adorned the slipping sky
Whence dark had rained
to fill the land wet azure overlay.
Embraced by wind the sails strained
through a night that cut like ice
Away the Lady from an earthen world
No freedom could entice
The bow would beckon; the sails strained
to a horizon at once unfurled.
So through a slowly breathing ocean
He steered his ship to sail
And as a drowning coin descends
up rose the petals of the sun
In faded scarlet, white, and orange
And with the currents, so went she
And drank the light of morn.
He drank of love of life and breathed
the wildness of the air
The wildness that frocked the sails
The air that filled his lungs
Through which in peace his lady sailed.
A ride along the bridges of the Nile
Before a fire of autumn trees
Wherein a man can only live
So sought a ship that foreign land
Where all ye need to know on earth
Runs through and by your fingertips,
As on a hill as in a plain
there floated on the sea
In light of evening waning dim
Ahead of where they were
A thing of cut, engraved oak wood.
It drifted near reflecting back
the shades of scarlet orange
that fell in drifts from the disc
that warmed the seaman and his boat,
She swept nearby the thing of wood
He delivered it warmly from the sea
And held it like a fragile photograph
fading from his memory.
Ahead were more; he took them too
And held them even so
Four wooden sculptures on the deck
All shivered in the salty wind.
As on the edge of a cobblestone wall
There grew atop horizons vast
Another ridge of ridges dark
That sailed like shadows in the earthly black
And now the sun would rise and fall
Across the bridge nowhere to go
A month gone by
A season changed
was all that spoke of how much time
A sailor and a sleek white ship
Were all that went through waters warm
Where anything passed through your fingertips
and slipped away but time.
But here in ancient Western waters
No wooden sculptures wept or shivered
The New World called to one or other
Ahead he saw the land of life
It stretched around and came behind
And here in a pale, cool winter light
Beneath the dark or whitish clouds
Coral hands stretched up to reach
And here she ran aground.
As on the eyes of a crying child
His eyes gazed back upon the sea
And washed the mast from bottom to top
With water that rose the salty sea
The land was here, the sacred land
The one he'd sought for all his life
So gazed the man for many hours
Upon the stuff of paradise
Till like a snowflake bathed in dusk
Falling from the dark above
He dropt to sleep at last. --MH

My Friend Norah was written by RMH in the 1930s or 1940s. It is a collection of verses for the entertainment of children. This is the first publication of selected verses from the set.


There never was
A nicer nurse
Than Norah!
She's lots more
Fun than
Sarah, Sue, or Cora!
She's patient as
A snail,
And what's more,
Can wag her tail!
Which can't be said
Of Lena, Lou, or Laura!


Oh, I shall have a garden
such as was never seen,
where canterbury bells will toll
the Angelus at e'en,
with lilies-of-the-valley tinkling
at the break of day,
and little Johnnie-jump-ups
jumping up in proud array.

Ah, I shall have a garden
where larkspurs fly about
and many kind of climbers
go climbing in and out,
and flowers red and white and blue,
in patriotic rows,
will ripple like a banner
with every breeze that blows.

And I shall make my garden
a joy to eyes and ears,
wherein there'll be no space at all
for sorrow or for tears.
Yes, I shall have a garden
to soothe the bleeding heart.
Oh, how I wish I only had
the energy to start!


I love to walk in flower beds
It's fun to pick a rose
And digging in the lawn is nice
Or sprinkling with a hose.

But here is what I'd rather do
Than anything I know.
I love to pull up little plants
To see what makes them grow!


Kitty Brown, Kitty Brown,
Just keeps sitting there.
You can call to wake the town,
Kitty doesn't care.


What is sweeter than a flower
Bathed by every passing shower?
Dancing with each gypsy breeze,
Sharing secrets with the bees;
In the summer, wearing gay
Party dresses all the day--
Gowns of pink or violet
That won't run when they get wet;
Drenched in perfume and cologne
That a fairy queen might own;
Brewed of sunlight, earth and dew
Flush of dawn and heaven's blue.
Oh! Such beauty stirs my tears:
Put away the garden shears.


Kitty's face is oh, so sweet,
Kitty's fur is clean and neat,
And each little mark and line
Makes a wonderful design.
 But in country, town or city
No one is as sly as kitty.
What a shame a thing so pretty
Has so very little pity!


Brown food,
Yellow food,
All so fresh and bright,
Every plate a picture,
Red and green and white.

All shapes,
Odd shapes,
Mountains, trees and brooks--
Yet it all tastes even
Better than it looks!


The North wind is a snow-man
who'll never, never melt!
The south wind is a pirate
with pistols in his belt!
The East wind is a Chinaman
in silks and satins dress't,
But the West wind is a cowboy,
and I think I like him best!


The moon comes out
on the blackets of nights
and sits all alone
in the sky.
And if he's not afraid
to come out in the dark,
then neither am I!
Neither am I!

Let only the eager, thoughtful, and reverent enter here. --Inscription on the gates of Pomona College

Of eager there are many,
Of thoughtful there are few,
Of reverent there are none.

They enter the machine and
are de-moneyed, stamped, filed,
welcomed, tea'd,
dressed and served,
lectured, quizzed,
oversexed, revolted,
bearded, queered,
cliqued, hated,
administrationed, expelled,
TGFO'd, SL'd, ASPC'd, BA'd,
groomed, fellowship'd,
Tea'd, de-moneyed, and

Their minds are cigarettes
which the machine lights.
They suck in and blow out the smoke of knowledge
while flicking away the ashes of uncertainty
as their tribute.
When they leave after four years
they take with them
not cigarette smoke nor ashes
but a brown filter. --DAH (Pomona College Student Life, circa 1958)


The Universe is vast and far:
Comets ’round a double star,
Pinwheel galaxies that spin,
Holes so black you can’t see in.
Moons that rise by threes each night,
Trees that glow with purple light,
Cosmic rays and asteriods,
Dog-star boys with hydrant toys.
Tri-lobed Grelbs that have no brothers,
Two-toed Fleebs, and many others--
All these worlds 'neath far-flung skies:
Reflections in a child’s sad eyes.
Oh! To find that place sublime,
Beyond the end of space and time!
To venture wide, to travel far,
To journey to the Wishing Star!
Escape velocity is swift--
Wings of thought provide the lift.
She slips past Saturn’s ringèd noose,
Beyond the blaze of Betelgeuse!
Her mind has warped through time and space;
She's visiting a kinder place.
She’s fled our sphere of toil and pain;
She’s living on the astral plane.
--RPH (preface to The Planet Goochin)


Desert squatting vigil,
hard against night freeze, a little
close to fading coals.
Eyes scan deceptive calm,
numbed fingers toss
new sticks to
hungry flames;
three a.m. and counting--
scraps of wood consumed
till dawn.
I'm hungry, it's
too bad the apples froze,
tomorrow back to town, and
try again. --AAH


The stars are bright when you see them, this is what they'll look like:
They'll look like Milky Way dropping,
  but except they won't drop and you can pick the Milky Way.

And the trees are bright and when you see them bright they'll shine with you,
  and if you have any mean dreams you can give up all
  and when you give up all you'll have nice dreams after all.

You can dream about you're a princess in a garden growing roses and daisies.
You can see what they look like; they'll look so pretty.

And when they look pretty you'll see the flowes blooming
  and when you seem them blooming everything will sparkle
  and you'll like your dreams very much.

And when you like them the sugar plums will dance with you.
When you dance with them you'll see them when they're nice.

Pretend you're Cinderella and that's only a dream.

When you see it's only a dream everything will look pretty
  and when you wake up from your dream in your house
  you'll be suprised, you'll see a design
  and you'll pretend for real and see the flowers blooming in your house.

And the trees will bloom in your house today.

And when you see the flowers blooming in your house
  you won't believe your eyes.
And when you see your surprise
  you'll look all around your house.

The flowers will be good to you and you can smell them as much as me,
  and when you smell them you'll see some beauty-full sparklng bells,
  and they'll be hanging on eveything.
Everything will be so bright; they'll hang on the walls and everything.

--AMH, 1973 (age 4)


Use of the breathalyzer, a device to detect drinking drivers, has dramatically reduced traffic fatalities in Britain, but churchmen are unhappy over the results. The problem is "breathalyzer backlash"--young men spending the night in bachelor girls' apartments rather than risking a breathalyzer test by driving home. "This may set the scene for moral lapses and result in blighted lives and lifelong regrets," warned the Christian Medical Fellowship. --news item

Whilst British drivers maim and kill
  When liquor doth inebriate,
The churchmen fear a graver ill:
  Proclivities of youth to mate.
With gore the drunks incarnidine
  Each quiet English country lane,
Whilst churchmen warn of concubine,
  Who causeth blighted lives of shame.
They praise a life of rectitude,
  Too soon with death on highway met,
For one of moral turpitude
  Is often lengthy with regret.
"Better Fate than mate," they say,
  And, "Better dead than bred!"
Must British churchmen have their way
  When streets with blood run red?
'Twere better youth should stay alive,
  Though filled with longings to seduce:
The British race shall not survive
  If it does not reproduce!
Words of churchmen oft remind us,
  Sober thoughts can trip our minds;
And, departing, leave behind us
  Sitzmarks on the sands of Time. --RPH, 1967

Website Design, Hosting and Maintenance by User-Friendly Computing
505 River Street, Santa Cruz, CA 95060  • Tel:  (831) 423-9653
Copyright (C) 2008.  All Rights Reserved.