Kisses at the Turnstile Gate

Transcribed below from "Choir Practice," A Chorus of Contemporary Poetry, conducted by Ellen M. Carroll" in the Charleston Evening Post of November 13, 1936. The original poem "Kisses at the Turnstile Gate" is by Clare Harner, not "Horner" as misprinted in the South Carolina newspaper.

KISSES AT THE TURNSTILE GATE

I'll ride this way again, irresistibly drawn
   To travel once more the lonely road from the sea
   That you and I explored, glad just to be.
And I'll get off my horse to watch the dawn;
   I'll sit on the log beneath a maple tree
   And laugh at memories of you and me
Who sat there once and gave our hearts in pawn.

I'll listen to crickets, and hear the noisy trills
   Of jays. I'll trace the changing carpet, inlaid
   With leaves in rich mosaic, light and shade.
I'll watch the lizards hunt where the sunlight spills.
   I'll watch the twisting, silver brook invade
   The trees that rise beyond the farther glade,
And farther yet the distant blue of the hills.

I'll see all this again, and mock the past
   Because my pride is stronger now than hate:
   But when I pass the broken turnstile gate
I'll look the other way and ride by fast
   For I might see a phantom lover wait.
   My pride is strong—but I shan't hesitate
Lest I recall your kisses, which could not last.

Clare Horner [Harner],
Kansas.

Charleston, SC Evening Post - June 11, 1937
Found on Genealogy Bank

No Need for a Band

From "Choir Practice," A Chorus of Contemporary Poetry, conducted by Ellen M. Carroll" in the Charleston Evening Post, November 13, 1936:

NO NEED FOR A BAND

In my little rut
   I serenely go,
Without swagger or strut
   Or fanfare or show.

No need to doubt
   The way I take . . .
I couldn't get out
   With less than a quake!

The path is fair
   I can't go wrong:
Without worry or care,
   I travel with song.

— Clare Harner.   Kansas. 

Charleston, South Carolina Evening Post - November 13, 1936
Found on Genealogy Bank

With Song

From "Choir Practice," A Chorus of Contemporary Poetry, conducted by Ellen M. Carroll" in the Charleston Evening Post, Friday, April 10, 1936:

WITH SONG

So little
Impression my life
Has made—like a rock skimming
The water, leaving series of rings
Widening, fading, gone. Yet—
Pebbles hum gay tunes
While they skip.

— Clare Harner.

Kansas. 

 

 

Charleston, South Carolina Evening Post - April 10, 1936
Found on Genealogy Bank

Three poems by Clare Harner

Shown above, page 274 from my personal copy of Important American Poets, ed. Edith Warren (Valiant House, 1938) with three poems by Clare Harner, later Clare Harner Lyon:

SCARECROW

(Hokku)

Hate is a scarecrow
That frightens all singing birds
From the fields of life.

PURITAN 

Corseted are my emotions
       Till I'm unwholesomely slim;
I'm laced with prescribed devotions --
       By nature, I'm not so prim!

SHE WALKED WITH THREE 

Three were the hounds that followed her,

       Though never far behind.

Relentless their walk as whispered slur --

       Illusions of harried mind.

And all who saw her thought her queer

       As she measured her hunted pace;

She looked as if a presence were near,

       With fright a veil for her face.

And only she knew the curs were there:

The hounds of envy, pride, and despair.

Challenger

 

Challenger

Where does he go,
       The daring one?
He follows the road
       That leads to the sun. 

Is the going rough

       The highway wide?

The road is long--

       But so is his stride!

And does he guess

       What lies ahead?

He only knows

       That he is led . . .

Drawn by a will

       Greater than his

To look for the sun

       And a Power that is.

--Clare Harner.

From Cycle Vol. 7 No. 2 (June 1941) page 14. Devoted to shorter poetry and reviews, Cycle magazine was then published in Houston, Texas and edited by Lily Lawrence Bow (1870-1943).

Dianne Scott tells the story of How Bow Channel Got Its Name.

 

With No Ring

 

With No Ring

People pass with averted eyes--
For I'm the sort their creeds despise.

No one believes I'd send you away.

Everyone thinks I begged you to stay.

The nicest women pass me by.

With questioning brows they wonder, "Why?"

They hold their skirts aside with care

Though the walk is broad with room to spare.

For a lady must wear a wedding ring:

A woman who can't is a leprous thing!

Why did you leave me alone like this?

An outcast because I loved your kiss.

CLARE HARNER.

As published in Eros (Henry Harrison, 1939), edited by Lucia Trent.

Let the Surging Waters . . .

From "Choir Practice" (a monthly column of contemporary poetry selected by Ellen M. Carroll) in the Charleston Evening Post (Charleston, South Carolina), February 15, 1936:

Charleston, SC Evening Post - February 15, 1936
via GenealogyBank

LET THE SURGING WATERS . . .
Give him a rugged voyage, Lord,
As he comes to Death's uncharted fiord.

In Life, he loved the rampant gale
   And laughed to watch the jagged dart
   Of lightning tear the clouds apart,
And shouted with joy at the wind and hail.

He never thought that calm was right . . .
   Quarter was given but never sought,
   Nor peace desired by him, who fought
And thrilled to feel the urge to fight.
Lord, give him a plunging ship—
He would not rest on a quiet trip.
—Clare Harner, Kansas.

And There Was Light by Clare Harner

From "Choir Practice" (a monthly column of contemporary poetry selected by Charleston poet Ellen M. Carroll) in the Charleston, South Carolina Evening Post, August 14, 1936:

Charleston, SC Evening Post - August 14, 1936
via GenealogyBank

AND THERE WAS LIGHT
Because I knew the day had passed,
I did not see that the shades were fast:
   For there was no light within
      To keep from shining out.
   Nor light outside coming in—
      And my heart was filled with doubt.

And then one tiny ray, from where
It came, and how, I do not care:
   In whirling, brave advance
      It marched across the floor.
   By some uncanny chance
      My room was dark no more.

Then I lit a candle, pulled the shades
And practiced some lilting serenades.
All at once, my heart was light.
Queer to have been afraid of night!
—Clare Harner, Kansas.

Where You Go

Sat, Aug 8, 1936 – 4 · The Central New Jersey Home News (New Brunswick, New Jersey) · Newspapers.com

WHERE YOU GO
By Clare Harner

I am tired of wandering;
I would have a fire
And I would have a window
Where I could view a spire.

I would have a cottage,
A dog, a Persian cat;
And I would have some chickens
And sparrows' friendly chat.

But I love your restless spirit . . .
You shall never know
That I would want a garden
Where yellow asters grow.

—From The Gypsy
Reprinted from The Gypsy poetry magazine, volume 12 (June 1936) page 15. This is the second of two poems by Clare Harner in The Gypsy. The first was Clare Harner's Immortality, published in the December 1934 issue.