FALL 2011




Solidus Online

Charles Frost

Dad's Silver Buckle

Its a fine old silver buckle
And as you can plainly see
By the lettering there upon it
Its most surely meant for me.

It came to me as a surprise
And brought me most to tears
Because to me it made me think
Of those many missing years.

Why anyone should be deprived
Of love from kith and kin
Turning that love to others
For their hearts to win.

Yes, its a plain old silver buckle
If Id only been there as a lad
Perhaps to shine it up for him
You see
The buckle belonged to Dad


I Look East

I sit at my computer, restful, looking East
Thinking of all the wise ones ~ the seers
That have shared knowledge from their minds
And how quiet now ~ they lie there in their biers.

There was no guessing at their window
Should they say rain, then rain we'd get
But thru my window, that's not all I see
I do not gaze out there and fret.

I see trees, some, of a different nature
Limbs waving, leaves wafting in the breeze
Thru it all the sun is winking
Wanting, wishing all the world to please.

In my house, there is no one window
That gives more pleasure to me now
Than that lonely single Eastern pane
As I see the beauty our God bestowed.

Each day that is where you will find me
As dawn peeps oer the mountain rim
Sheds some light out thru the trees
shimmering thru each leaf and limb.

Look for me there, at my computer
Which is idle now ~ not something that I need
All that I see thru my Eastern window Is like getting the weather from the seed.

Thinking back to the wise, the seers of yore
perhaps, they had a window, all their own
Thru which they viewed all the future
Writ it all down, in sand and stone.


Charles Frost

(currently 97) spends a large portion of his time writing and enjoying the woods of New Hampshire. As he has a wont to say, always give an honest days work to whatever and whoever you are with and be ready to give a bit more. If it is worth doing, it is worth doing well. Those maxims are followed to this day by his children.