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I am so very sorry that I have not posted .  Many changes have been occurring  since my last writing.  My wife and I have been working to update our existing house so that we can have the privilege of moving to my Dad’s house.  In addition to the work that needed to be done at both houses, there was also the necessity of working with the Nether Folk who are wonderful beings but most cautious when considering the allowance of humans into their world.  In short they are indeed the most gracious beings we have ever had the pleasure of knowing.  We look forward to spending many hours with them.  The long-awaited move to my Father’s house should occur in the Fall of this year.  Susan and I have been doing the majority of the construction at both places.  Thanks to the wonderful genes handed down from my parents and Susan’s parents we have been able to accomplish remarkable amounts of work (considering we are in our early seventies).  There are more poems from Dad (many more).  I hope to start releasing them soon.  Best wishes to all and Thank You so much for the loyalty you have shown to my Dad.  The Nether Folk Story will continue as will his works as well as mine (although they are not the same quality of my Dad’s).  Til then,  Bruce E. Frost

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I truly have not forgot my Dad’s readers, nor will I.  As many of you know, my Dad was part Irish and had a love for Ireland that was very deep.  He always wanted to visit the Emerald Isle but circumstances never allowed that dream to be fulfilled.  My wife (Susan) and I traveled to Ireland this month to fulfill that dream on his behalf (I must admit it was also the dream of Susan and me).  We spent two (2) weeks traveling the length and width of Ireland and spreading Dad’s love of the country and letting the wonderful folk hear his words.

One of his favorite pieces from Ireland was Galway Bay.  We visited that beautiful place and I know that he was with us.  We also visited Dingle Bay.  Four young Irish lasses (none of which we knew) learned of Dad and his love for Galway and Dingle Bays.  Much to our surprise, one of the lasses blessed us and my Dad with the singing of Dingle Bay (of course this occurred in one of Dublin’s many fine pubs).

Later in our trip, our dear friend Joe O’Leary and our new friends Frank and Robbie (all three being true Irish countrymen) serenaded us with Galway Bay (of course this also occurred at pub, this time in the fine city of Cork).  Joe, Frank and Robbie exemplify the true people of Ireland – warm, friendly, helpful and just f..ing great.  We love you guys.

I am sure Dad was with us – every step of the way – and I am also sure that he would agree that every aspect of Ireland and its people exceeded our expectations many-fold.  We will be back.

And I must let all of you know, that I have not forgot my promise to Dad and to you.  I will soon start posting more of his works and will continue The Nether Folk Story.

Go raibh maith agat Éire agus míle buíochas le gach do chuid daoine iontach. Dia Bless agus is Fearr Mianta do na an chuid is fearr.

Bruce, Susan agus Charles Frost

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We have not forgotten Dad’s faithful followers.  There will be plenty more to come as many of his works have never been published.  In addition, The Nether Folk Story will continue on.  We will be celebrating the Life of Charles and Alma Frost on June 28, 2014.  Family and Friends will gather where Dad and Mom used to cut wood and picnic and honor their lives and toast to their rejoining.  Then we shall party as they requested. The tears we shed will be tears of joy and admiration.

 

Bruce E. Frost

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frost ceilidh

Frost Ceilidh

 

Alone on the winter road,
the New Year air bites,
sheets of snow
crunch,
as I tramp up the mountain pass,
a journey
to the old Ledgecrest home,
a walk to remember
the frost past.

 

Despite piercing blue sky,
ghostly squalls swirls among
the bone trees,
the rhythmic words of
Padraic Colum
in my head
enchanting flakes into
companionable sprites
among the still
and quietude,
urging and
pulling me forward.

 

Over silver water trickles
that winds
and tumbles
down
past the distant Ledgecrest home,
down among
crystal-crusted stones
and snowcapped boulders,
through paper birches
and mill blades,
murmuring forgotten
stories
and songs of near
and far ago.

 

Each step a memory,
a treasure breath
in my chest.

 

The climb steepens,
heavenward
toward graying clouds
thickening in the west,
each breath harder,
sharper,
sleety tears stinging
cheeks,
as old years
swallow the new.

 

Then upon the first summit,
frozen pond cupped
in mountain bowl,
giant breaths of wind
gusting unimpeded,
a stray slant of gold
sneaks prizmatically,
warming me,
and
I stand,
like a deer
caught in the light,
lost in moments.

 

A moment
lasting near a century.

 

Then the squall sprites return,
shake me,
spur me to the wild meadows,
beyond pond and woods,
where they join spirits
and multiply,
dance and fly
in a confluence
of flickering white
and golden light,
the world tilting with sun, cloud,
and sapphire sky.

 

I waver and teeter
during this rare
fairy ceilidh.

 

And as they begun,
they suspend,
they flutter and settle,
like memories,
I discover,
like frost words,
his late words,
on shifting pages
of sound and rhythm,
spinning tales of long ago
and future,
permeating skin to soul,
from toe to hair,
hair to toe.

 

Each six-pronged crystal,
a word,
puzzled together
into lines and stanzas,
lilting, meandering sentences,
crafting a spell
of living memory,
an everlasting tome
to celebrate the old and the new,
to make our own,
to add and to multiply,
to dance and fly
like sprites and fairies
in our own frost ceilidh,
as we all climb toward
each New Year’s Day,
now and
forever
in this poet’s world
he has spun.

 

Bruce Frost II copyright © 2014
January 2, 2014

dedicated to Charles E. Frost,
April 28, 1915 to December 31, 2013

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Staying Free

‘Tis a new day, yesterday’s gone with any sadness.
I’ve brushed all traces of disgruntlement away
And all are at one hundred percent. Please accept
And laugh it all off, if you will, may yer problems be nil.

I be shipshape and I be on even keel. That be me spiel
With the lesson I learned on that dae, I can sail any sea.
Be the waters smooth or unsettled, I’ll be certain to deal
With all that may come my way, I will sail the ocean free.

Through my reading and writing and living and listening
I’ve avoided hardships that could have put me on a spree.
Reading and writing are essential, living is all of your life
Listening is all important to learning, keeping you free.

There you be my friends. Take it for what it be worth
This be just a day out of me life that I offer to you as my
Say. Good luck, fortune fair. Sail your seas as you may,
Keeping in mind, those that come after, the game of life

You will teach them to play.

Copyright © 2013 Charles E. Frost
November22, 2013

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I’m back. It was quite a vacation I had. Now I have to get together with the little folk to see what they’ve been up to. As I mention them, they appear and seem to be some agitated. I hope they are not bringing problems with them. It is nothing unusual. Nether Folk seem to believe that their place is out front in whatever is going on. I have to admit, with them heading the parade, things most always go well. I guess it is part of their mystery. When it comes to whipping up something unusual or magical, leave it to the Nether Folk. The Little Folk certainly are adept in coming up with the unusual or magical.

As I have said, they seem to believe that if there is something unusual about to happen it is their faction that should start it by being out front. Several of them are standing around looking at boxes on the turf and poking at them with their feet. One of the Little Folk backed away when a box moved suddenly when he got in near proximity to it. That started a conversation and all of the little folk moved quickly to get a bit further away from that area. Well now, is everybody getting nervous over what may be in the boxes that seem to move of their own volition? Is there perhaps animal life in the boxes? Now, one of the Nether Folk moves out in front, leans down and appears to be talking directly to one of the boxes. The box, to which he is speaking to, now opens up and out steps a fancy dressed, unusually tall Nether Folk man holding a musical instrument in his hand. He raises it to his mouth and his cheeks form up like red balloons. A sound emits from it that sounds like a wild screech such as never heard before. All nearby jump and run in fear. Two more blasts are sounded by the strange looking Nether Folk and all goes unearthly quiet. This man, who seems to now take charge of all the others, waves his arms in a circle and like magic, all of the others form up behind him and the Nether Folk march away softly singing.

What a beautiful and unusual way to start a celebration, though of what no one seems to know. I was so excited, I forgot to mention that each and every box contained a Nether Folk person dressed in gold. What a wonderful time we’re having! Do not go away. Something else is about to take place like nothing I have seen before. The very air seems to be getting heavier tho nothing else seems to be changing. As for me, I have the strangest feeling that something is about to happen and it does. Explosions rent the atmosphere around us and everyone is trying to find a place to feel protected. Who knows from what? Suddenly a loud crashing sound seems to envelop the entire area. It comes from the forward part of the ground where most of the Nether Folk had been congregated in a group They have disappeared from view. All there is to see is a large slanted depression that seems to lead deeper into the earth. Where are the Little People, or as we know them, the Nether Folk? There is just a very deep silence. Bare earth is all one can see.

Time seems to be standing still, no changes have taken place for what seems to be, hours. Suddenly there is the sound of chains clanking and what was a slanted cavern of earth is changing into a flat table like a panel rising slowly and smoothly and filling the ugly hole in the earth, but, where are the Nether Folk? Are they lost to us? Will we never see them or hear their sweet music again?

A different voice fills the air now recognizable as that of the Green Man. It has been some time since we saw him last. The Green Man urges all of us to not be upset by anything that may happen. Well, we do know that whenever he appears, strange things do take place.. We shall see. The Green Man is a very friendly person as long as he is not upset. Now he has walked over to talk to a few of the Nether Folk who have called to him.
There appears to be a lot of hand waving between the two men. Under my breath I find myself urging the both of them to remain calm. All has been fine up to this point. I hope nothing goes wrong to upset things. Don’t you? If anyone can do a thing to stir up a fuss it could be the Green Man arguing with The Nether Folk. Stay calm men. All is running smoothly to now. I will be back tomorrow. I am tired.

Here I am once more. I am anxious to see what is going on. There is much milling around amongst the Green Man and the Nether Folk. It is very confusing to me as to what the problem might be. Wait a minute, a real large Leprechaun is pointing toward the Nether Folk group while at the same time talking to the Green Man. It appears that he is telling the Green Man that one of the Nether Folk is to be in charge along with him (him, the Green Man) in whatever is to take place. I hope everything is going to run smoothly. I fear that all this hand waving points to much discord between the parties involved. It now appears that everything is settled to the satisfaction of everyone.

The Green Man, Nether Folk, Leprechaun and some Fairies also, are moving together toward the large panel covering that cavern like hole made in the ground. Now it seems, the Nether Folk are no longer with the others. What is happening? They have disappeared completely.

All of these happenings have my mind going in circles. I must take some time off.

Copyright © Charles E. Frost
January 24, 2013

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(An Ode To My Sister)

Naw, fer me it’s not what it used to be.
There be sumtin missin’ naow ~ Why?
Ye say, why? Cuz one not be there
Anymore. No that be wrong. be there
But still be sorely missed, by all she

New or who new her, Glory be, wuz
she not, tha one, who partied most of
Of all. She danced wit anyone atall
or pranced alone across tha floor.
How old ye ask ~ don’t be nosey.

She wuz old enough ta be a smarty,
But man o’man, she sure could party
And put anyone ta shame. Her name
Wuz, O’ I forgit it she had an a-lie s
But answered to Aunt Bessie, naow

Wudn’t ye know naow, wudn’t ye?
Cum ten pm or eleven, more likely
Twood be neer midnite, ye mite hear,
Bed Lunch, come an git it, or git out.
O’ well, not quite but she wuz

Tired and slippin’ round tha room
ta say gudnite, tha party’s over, cum
agin anither time. O’ Aunt Bessie wuz
A hostess of reknown, loved by everyone
Who knew her and some from every town

Around. God Bless you Aunt Bessie,
Verna, sister mine, we, you and I, never
Had enough time together but we will in
Another place and in another time. So it’s
Bed Lunch for you and me. I Love You Sis,

God Bless, Good Night,

Charlie, Your Bro

Copyright © 2012 Charles E. Frost
November 2, 2012

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