ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Mason Cole is an Oklahoma author, 17 years of age. He attends the Oklahoma School of Science and Mathematics in Oklahoma City. Mason's favorite authors are Ayn Rand, William Shakespeare, Homer, and Orson Scott Card. His dream is to recieve a Ph.D. in History and then teach, writing novels and short stories on the side. [October 2000]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (10) Beyond The Fence (Short Stories) When a mysterious stranger wanders into a small Nebraska town, its citizens are forced to make a choice between the Eden they live in and the Eden that is possible. [6,840 words] Teaching Mindy (Short Stories) A New York private investigator and his assistant are handed the case of a lifetime. But will it turn out to be a career-making mystery, or will the killer get away with the perfect crime? [11,186 words] The Box (Short Stories) When two boys from the future cross wits with a man out of time, the world's future lies within...THE BOX. [5,497 words] The Form Of Poetry (Poetry) Peotry is an undefinable thing in technical terms. This piece is meant to help describe just a few of the purposes of poetry. [318 words] The Greatest Of All (Poetry) A work of triumph about a personal hero of mine. [381 words] The Stars (Poetry) A short philosophical piece. [219 words] Thoughts From A Prison Camp (Poetry) A Jewish prisoner's thoughts after years under the cruel government of Adolf Hitler. [535 words] To My Blooming Rose (Poetry) A short work of dedication to a very special someone. [113 words] War Chess (Poetry) An allegorical look at the Civil War, espcially Lee and Grant. [548 words] 'twas The Night Before X-Mas 2k (Poetry) The real meaning of Christmas condensed into poetry form. [371 words]
Grandfather Mason Cole
As I sit in the chair, he stares off into space, Unaware of my presence so near, I hold his hand tight, this man once full of grace, Who would help me and say not to fear. A terrible illness has stolen his mind, Gone are all of his worries and cares, But if he needs me, like I once needed him, Grandfather, I still will be there.
Heroic and dashing, he was in his youth, But Alzheimer’s took that away, A shell of him who stood for courage and truth, Now living in hell day by day. Although I don’t know him, we still are close friends, And though the pain I cannot bear, If he should need me, like I once needed him, Grandfather, I still will be there.
The battles you fought in, one after the next, But here is one you cannot win, So I wish you the speediest, happiest rest, Your penance end met with a grin By Saint Peter, who will open those bright pearly gates, And the heavenly robes shall you wear, Until then, if you need me, like I still need you, Grandfather, I still will be there, Grandfather, I’ll always be there.
[This poem is dedicated to my grandfather, John Dwayne Cole, who has suffered from Alzheimer’s for well over a decade. Even though I never really had the chance to meet him and the only memories I have of him are blurred, I am still very grateful to him for the opportunity to live my life. This poem is the finest tribute I can render him.]
[AUTHOR’S NOTE—After over twelve years of suffering, John Cole passed away the day this poem was published on Storymania.com, on March 26 of the Year of Our Lord 2000.]
READER'S REVIEWS (2) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"Very sad and very powerful. My commendations to Worthing on an excellent piece." -- Jack Filantio, in Al buquerque, NM, USA.
"Much "better" than your previous piece. Both show the raw material of a poetic gift,the difference is important.It is one thing to be empathetic with a prisoner, and another thing to experience the pain of seeing someone you love locked away in the ultimate gulag of dementia. Howl at the injustice of both, that's what youth is for,but remember that poetry is at its best when it is torn from broken hearts, or joyously crowed from pinnacles. It is a craft that improves with practice,and is best appreciated by those who know what it feels like to be unable to NOT write it. " -- Feather, Columbus, Ohio, usa.
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