The following poem was selected by the National Library of Poetry as one of THE BEST

of the year 1995. THERE WERE SEVERAL OTHERS SELECTED AS BEST ALSO.

The old Windmill

What sweet and loving things its creaking old voice could tell,

As the leaves, the moon, and the Mockingbirds cast their spell.

About the boy and girl who came that moonlit night,

They came to talk, to hold each other so very tight.

The rustle of leaves in the wind the Mockingbirds sang

Words that were spoken never ended they just seemed hang.

The old mill turned in the breeze so lazy and slow.

Neither wanted the visit to end neither wanted to go.

She told him of her feelings He was to shy to speak of love,

He went far away, when he wrote He called Her Turtledove.

He knew He loved her, he thought she liked him a lot.

But later he was so sorry, He knew there would be no Camelot.

The mill turned, the Mockingbirds sang, the moon was bright,

He told the old mill his shyness lost her forever that night.

While He remembered her last night and how sweet it had been,

You must keep my secret old mill the reason must be lost in the wind.

This poem was also selected by the American College of Poetry as one of the five best in the U.S.

I also was made a member of the International Society of Poets based on the poem. A Sustaining

member which means I never have to pay any dues to keep my membership. I still wonder why.