Bill Meilen

One of people who was a friend and mentor to Dale was poet Bill Meilen.

We recently found one of his books he lovingly assembled in our kitchen drawer,

What a wonderful surprise!

I will share a poem:

March of Hours

Boxed into time by ever-marching hours,

We seek the grace of Muses, that hot spark

The one time from he smiling Moon did come

The cool blue cube of creativity.

Oh, how the marching clock such urge devours

Now at the lastgrain run before the dark

How to unleach the rhythms of the drum:

The song hat comes of deep simplicity.

Bring our the forging hammers, heat the coals!

Tong in the metals gathered by the mind!

Bend them and forge them to the shape you will

Shaping our future on the brain’s anvil

Things that ne’er existed are our goal

Things that will lift the scales from eyes once blind.

Artists alone all suffer in the still

Seeking that fountain where we drink our fill.

Poems by Bill Meilen in the “Old World Suite”

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