In San Francisco, it’s the summer of love,
Long-haired hippies, peace signs, and doves.
In Vietnam, the soldiers are dying,
Back home their families are crying,
And Sergeant Pepper taught the band to play.
Jim wants to “Light My Fire,”
While Grace’s rabbit only flies higher.
The evening news shows the war isn’t cool,
This week I started high school,
And “All You Need Is Love” is what The Beatles say.
Written by Jimmie Aaron Kepler
Schertz, Texas, August 1967
Grace Slick today at age 79
The photos are of Grace Slick. She is an alumna of Finch College where she majored in art. She is an accomplished artist. The artwork is hers.
Note: This is the oldest poem I have written by me. It was in notebooks and papers my mother gave me a few months before she passed away in 2014. Aren’t parents great about keeping things and then later in life returning them?
I wrotethispoem as a freshman at Samuel Clemens High School in Schertz, Texas. Samuel Clemens High School was two miles outside the main gate at Randolph Air Force Base, San Antonio, Texas.
Impressing, my English teacherwaschallenging. Theassignmentwas to write a paper on “What I did on my summervacation.” Instead, I wrote about whatwashappening in popularculture. Instead of prose, I wrote a poem. I failed to follow the rules. Shecalled me a “beatnik hippy poetweirdo.” I viewed her insult as a compliment! I gave in, complied with her orders, and wrote five pages of drivelavoiding a grade of “F” on the assignment. I wrote about hitchhiking to the San Francisco, California and the “Summer of Love.”.
“Starting High School” is from the forthcoming book “Jimmie Aaron Kepler: Selected Poems” from Poetry and Prayer Press.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and his wife Fanny Appleton Longfellow. Longfellow is pictured as a younger man without his famous long, white beard. He grew the beard because the facial injuries from the fire that killed Fanny prevented him from shaving. Photo source: https://civilwarbookofdays.org/2011/07/08/henry-wadsworth-longfellow-and-the-civil-war/
Christmas Bells
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said:
“For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!”
Written Christmas Morning 1863
“Christmas Bells” is a minor, yet well known, poem written by a very melancholy Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Christmas morning in 1863 during the midst of the Civil War. It is an anti-slavery poem as well as a seasonal favorite.
Mourning the Death of His Wife Fanny Appleton Longfellow
The poem was written six months after the battle of Gettysburg where 40,000 soldiers lost their lives. In addition to despairing over the bloody war, Henry was also mourning the death of his beloved wife Fanny Appleton Longfellow. Fanny died in a tragic fire the same year that the Civil War broke out. In November of 1862, another personal tragedy added to his pain. His son, Union Lieutenant Charles Appleton, was wounded in the Army of the Potomac.
Written at Craigie House in Cambridge, Massachusetts
On Christmas morning in 1863, while sitting at his desk at the Craigie House in Cambridge, MA, Henry was inspired to write a poem as he listened to the church bells pealing. Their constancy and joyous ringing inspired him to write “Christmas Bells.” In spite of his sadness, Longfellow expresses his belief in God and innate optimism that indeed:
God is not dead; nor doth he sleep
The Wrong shall fail;
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!
Adapted into a Christmas Carol by John B. Caulkin
Sometime after 1872, Longfellow’s poem was adapted into a Christmas Carol. John B. Caulkin (1827-1905) was a famous English composer who set the lyrics to a gentle, melodic tune that is reminiscent of bells ringing. The carol is entitled “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.” Alternative tunes have been written for the lyrics but Caulkin’s melody remains predominant.
I lived in Portsmouth, New Hampshire from February 1966 – the last day of April 1967. I was in the seventh and eighth grades. My father was in the United States Air Force at the time. As a student at Portsmouth Junior High School, I took field trips to both Bowdoin College in Brunswick, Maine and Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Longfellow was a Bowdoin College graduate and was a faculty member before moving to Cambridge to teach at Harvard.
Classical Education with Understanding and Appreciation of the Arts
We placed great emphasis when I was in junior high school on classical education with understanding and appreciation of the arts including poetry. Only my university and seminary education had a greater impact on me than my short two years in New England public schools.
What if there were no “C’s” to say with our A’s and B’s? What if all the C’s went out on strike? Tired of being seen by you and me as just average unlike the letters A and B. Now here is how your life might be if out on strike went the letter C.
You begin your day with a ‘up of hot ‘offee while in your lap is your ‘urled up ‘at. Then later you ‘ould take your dog for a walk While wearing your favorite ball ‘ap to keep the sun out of your eyes Unless of ‘ourse, dark stormy ‘louds filled the sky.
On to the park where the ‘hildren and ‘anines go to play Where you li’k an i’e ‘ream ‘one bought from a man pushing a ‘art. While sitting in the park table’s ‘hair you ‘arefully observe the ‘ars Driving down the street wondering about the driver’s worries or ‘ares.
A gust of wind makes you need to retrieve your ‘ap that just blew off your head. Your hair now a mess needs ‘ombed but instead of ‘ombing it the ‘ap you wear The favorite team’s ‘ap does its job of hiding your unkempt hair. And you let your dog lead you ba’k to the house.
Ba’k inside your ‘ondominium a box of ‘andy ‘alls your name. The temptation is too hard to resist so you pi’k a ‘ho’olate that’s ‘herry filled Get a ‘up of hot ‘appu’’ino and sit on the ‘ou’h. Then into your lap jumps the ‘at and she quickly ‘urls up.
Finally, resting in his home he re’alls his manners, And remembers to remove his ‘ap, and loves on his ‘urled up ‘at. Now you know how it would be if there were no “C’s” to say with our A’s and B’s Because you’ve seen how your life might be if out on strike went the letter C.
Jimmie Aaron Kepler Written for my granddaughter Aurora Written during November – December 2017
Have you ever had your heart broken? If so, here’s some help for a broken heart. I wrote the poem about fifteen years ago. It was originally published in “WORDS…RHYMES…POETRY & PROSE!” in 2008. The poem has also published in: “Writing After Fifty” and in the book “Gone Electric: A Poetry Collection.”
Your Best Friend
If ever you find yourself being broken apart,
Because the one you trusted has broken your heart,
And all the time you find yourself crying,
While on the inside you feel like you’re dying,
Call me if you feel lonely,
Come to me when your life needs to mend,
From time to time you need only,
Someone with love unconditional – your best friend.
One time life gave you a fright,
Existence was as black as a moonless midnight,
You were feeling so out-of-place,
With no one to hug or embrace,
Then you saw the light,
You came to me in the middle of the night,
And you ran to me to give your heart,
And that’s when your new life did start
Call me if you feel lonely,
Come to me when your life needs to mend,
From time to time you need only,
Someone with love unconditional – Jesus, your best friend.
Psalm 34:18 English Standard Version, “The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”
The setting was an old wood-framed church house.
Built by a tree on the crest of a gently sloping hill.
Its wood siding all faded and weather-worn.
The brass church bell for years had been still.
He walked up the hill to the church house.
With each step, old long-past years reappeared.
Soon in his mind, he could hear the congregation singing.
Then down his cheeks streamed the warm, wet tears.
Once again, the old song leader was his Grandpa.
His young Mama on a pump organ played.
Packed on the third pew were his mischievous boy cousins.
Standing by the back door to the music his dear Daddy swayed.
And old remembrances flooded his being.
A grand family reunion was well underway.
Hearing again the stories of King Jesus,
He couldn’t hold the tears at bay.
Then he moved from the little wooden church house.
Walked down the hill on the path just ahead.
The music and memories slowly fading in the distance.
He arrived at a cemetery with the graves of his family long dead.
There will be a great reunion in heaven in the future,
They’ll all be reunited one wonderful day.
They were all Believers in Jesus,
He’s the Light, the Truth, and the Way.
Jimmie Aaron Kepler
December 2015
The poem “Family Reunion” is in the forthcoming book, “Selected Poems: 1967 – 2021” by Jimmie Aaron Kepler and published by Poetry and Prayer Press.
Picture Credit: William Clarence Breeding, Sr. The church is in eastern Oklahoma near Ida Belle where my late father-in-law, William Clarence Breeding, Sr, and his family attended reunions.
He sat on a rustic cabin’s front porch.
Mountain peaks in front for him to see.
Back and forth moved his old wooden rocker.
The view framed by pine and juniper trees.
Some dog’s bark echoed in the distance.
An engine wails, straining to climb the pass.
A western tanager lands on top of a telephone pole.
And a deer looks both ways before crossing at last.
Jimmie Aaron Kepler
September 2, 2020
Written in Alto, New Mexico
What if there were no “C’s” to say with our A’s and B’s? What if all the C’s went out on strike? Tired of being seen by you and me as just average unlike the letters A and B. Now here is how your life might be if out on strike went the letter C.
You begin your day with a ‘up of hot ‘offee while in your lap is your ‘urled up ‘at. Then later you ‘ould take your dog for a walk While wearing your favorite ball ‘ap to keep the sun out of your eyes Unless of ‘ourse, dark stormy ‘louds filled the sky.
On to the park where the ‘hildren and ‘anines go to play Where you li’k an i’e ‘ream ‘one bought from a man pushing a ‘art. While sitting in the park table’s ‘hair you ‘arefully observe the ‘ars Driving down the street wondering about the driver’s worries or ‘ares.
A gust of wind makes you need to retrieve your ‘ap that just blew off your head. Your hair now a mess needs ‘ombed but instead of ‘ombing it the ‘ap you wear The favorite team’s ‘ap does its job of hiding your unkempt hair. And you let your dog lead you ba’k to the house.
Ba’k inside your ‘ondominium a box of ‘andy ‘alls your name. The temptation is too hard to resist so you pi’k a ‘ho’olate that’s ‘herry filled Get a ‘up of hot ‘appu’’ino and sit on the ‘ou’h. Then into your lap jumps the ‘at and she quickly ‘urls up.
Finally, resting in his home he re’alls his manners, And remembers to remove his ‘ap, and loves on his ‘urled up ‘at. Now you know how it would be if there were no “C’s” to say with our A’s and B’s Because you’ve seen how your life might be if out on strike went the letter C.
Jimmie Aaron Kepler Written for my granddaughter Aurora Written during November – December 2017
After the crowds were dismissed
And all started going away
His disciples gathered ‘round Him
Listening to the few words He had to say.
I’m going up on the mountain
I need alone time to pray and meditate.
Get onboard your boat and cross the lake
Before it gets too late.
While on the mountain top, eve changed to the night
While the Father and Jesus were all alone
And the disciples’ boat moved toward the other shore
His followers heard the tempest as it began to groan.
Now the wind and waves
Increased all through the night
And as a black fear gripped the men
The wondered would they survive to the morning light.
Sometimes between 3 and 6 A.M.
Jesus came to them walking on the sea.
But they feared he was but a ghost
They were terrified and wished that they could flee.
And immediately Jesus spoke to them
His words cutting through the violent storm
It’s me, take heart, don’t be afraid.
His words were full of love and very warm.
But Peter wasn’t so sure it was Jesus.
His grave doubt quivered in his voice
He yelled. “Let me walk on the water out to you.”
Was his verbalized faithless choice.
With kindness in His voice
“Come,” the Master said.
And Peter walked on the water towards Him
Without fear of drowning or becoming dead
But then He took His eyes off Jesus.
He looked at the wind all around.
And suddenly he began to sink.
Peter feared he would drown.
Lord Jesus save me!
Was his faithful cry
Jesus reached out taking his hand
“Why doubt me? You’re not going to die.”
Then they got into the boat
And the disciples began to sob.
For the wind and waves and tempest had stopped.
They worshipped and declared, “You are the Son of God!”
“You Are The Son of God!” by Jimmie Aaron Kepler
is a retelling of the biblical story found in Matthew 14:22-33
where “Jesus Walks on the Water.”
It was written in April 2020.
What If There Were No C’s?