Field of Dreams

Field of Dreams

by Jerry Blaton

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Beautiful and creative, Field of Dreams goes beyond and above the ordinary to explicate life and experiences to the extreme. Field of Dreams is a compelling and loving image of good times and memories told in a wonderful way. Field of Dreams will hold the attention of young and old as they read and dream and ponder on the clear definitive prose and powerful expression of Jerry Blaton, the new credible author of this most amazing anthology. Buy a copy for each of your friends, as you will enjoy years of harmonious reading, hope, and cheer, and gloat over Field of Dreams in conversation. Jerry Blaton – what is new, exciting, and "hot off the presses" – Buy your copy today.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780759695566
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Publication date: 11/02/2002
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 124
File size: 146 KB

Read an Excerpt

Field of Dreams

By Jerry Blaton AuthorHouse Copyright © 2002 Jerry Blaton
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-7596-9557-3

Chapter One Favorites

By The Seashore

Oh what a gracious breeze The water rises high to the knees Its big, bad and blue So much to see, so much to do Play ball, surf or walk Shop, tour or talk Feel good by the seashore The ocean fills giving you more and more Peanuts and taffy sweets Pelicans, Seagulls, people to meet The boardwalk a long road Amusement park a pleasure mode By the sea shore such a gift The sand, the water what a lift Cheer good times Fine meats, fruits and wines Passion, vigorousness, elegance Excitement, fulfillment, exhilarance Fun, sun and adventure all in store When you're by the seashore

My Glasses Be Dirty

I wake up and cry, Why did he have to die? I search for a dream, How pathetic did it seem! I wonder and ponder Remembering, when me and the earth was fonder The grass was green, My glasses were clean. The birds chirped, water in the stream Flowers bloomed now a dream The planet flowed with milk and honey No greediness, no pollution for money. Melons, berries, grapes, Bananas, tangerines and dates When these died, so did I Now I only ask why? The answer is that my sight is blurred Cleansing my glasses, will it cleanse the earth? It still looks dirty that way. How long do we have a century, a decade, a year, a day?

Field of Dreams

Field of Dreams Poetry created by me I can't understand how it be Conceptually written by thee Personal one which is exceptionally New, not faked but stated Quaint yet right on point not debated Sometimes I look at a mirror, what do I see A man, a monster or a celebrity Topics of speech Verb phrases, synonym, antonym I teach My English creatively used to sound terrific My metaphor nothing less than prophetic I look to the ceiling Down to the floor then my pen starts squealing Not imaginatory or a myth But line by line a perfect fit Like a field with flowers Like staring at roses, tulips and carnations for hours Like a dream Abstract I mean A writer, I guess lyrics With motion, sound and spirit With elegance and grace With savvy, style and taste What should I write Assemble on paper and make it just right Puttin the pen to the paper An entertainer, prophet, life savior When you say this, poetically a gift Not slow but swift, Appreciative, designed to uplift smooth and sweet like a kiss Prose is the greatest expression and I know this So close your eyes and make a wish Your dream may come true A field of words wet with morning dew The field of dreams The field of dreams

End Of The Road

As Palm trees spring, the wind do blow. As the seasons change things come and go As buzzards soar the shovel hits the gravel. Time can only tell the fate, death's mystery to unravel. Is it fate or is it great. A last gasp of breath, my debate. Streams flow, birds chirp, time passes. The earth recycles itself for all the masses. Elder trees begin to die, baby seeds sprout to bloom. But are old trees weak, fearful of their doom? Or is old Priceless, Experienced and Wise. The young so confidently distant from their demise. But Young trees don't be without their elderly. The old tree has lived on through many a trial and misery. You see the old have traveled too long a road, a frigid path. They have seen many a birth, been in pain, had many a laugh. Regretfully the trip must end before too long. For it's a road in which we all wish to prolong. As our thoughts pass years of time may we note. We may begin young but finish strong at the end of the road.


A walk in the park A book to be read a beat of the heart Nature illuminates the day is yet through The sun shines, companionship I yet knew Hour after hour tick after tick The evening has come darkness is thick The electronics are worn for them I don't care For companionship I wish so I deal a hand of Solitaire For love is not like a leaf It does not fall from a tree nor bite like teeth It can't be learned not can it be taught It can't be fooled nor can it be bought Like gold it shines on for good A stare of approval between two sets of eyes, for which it's understood One pair of eyes that is how I stand No affection or kiss so I deal another hand I lie low but my fingers get tired I lay back my head and dream of the person I admired My family and friends visits allow me to love and care But it is only temporary and soon I sit and gaze from an open window and deal another hand of Solitaire

Chapter Two Melodic Poems

Heart Of An Adventurer

Make a dream So that you trepid life may seem To float away With purpose each day May you shout with vigor in the fall Hibernate and study in the winter if anything at all Run and play in the spring Shout with joy in the summer as you do your thing Because for the heart of an adventurer nothing is not new May you let your adventures expand, be you young or old, they many or few

Every Day

Make a dream and float away Sing a song almost every day Take a walk in the park Watch the stars in the dark Hop on an ocean cruise Bath in sunlight, a daily snooze Fly high in an airborne plane Read alot to exercise the brain Go dancing with your mate Keep appointments on the proper date Ride a boat along the river Be a philanthropist, a daily giver Stay happy for each and every day Live a long life the "special" way

The Preacher

Take a dream It may seem Feel a flow Just that you know It's only little Hard tapered and brittle Just good I've only, yeh I could make it understood That I should So its right Just last night Have a fight Say he's alright Just enough You know he's tough So get up Before I interrupt I make and buff More of this stuff


Feel the air Make it fair Race a goose A life lover on the loose. Now relax On your back Now concentrate Breathe easy and contemplate Your day Death no way Life may attack Just relax.

A Long Summer Night

Melodies in the moonlight A long summer night. Playing cards laughin and joking reminiscing, telling stories, no smoking Hear the beat of the African drums See the road, the roses, carnations and even the mums The air is clear and just right A long summer night. Outside is cool and Fresh We talk about everything until nothing is left Then we sit and stare at the stars Or compare homes, animals and cars We're different races, backgrounds and even heights A long summer night.

A Sunny Day

Hum a song Sing with the birds all day long Dance to the river Speak praise of the life giver Take a chance In a lovely spring romance Relax with cheer Celebrate with good food while family is near Stare at the sky To each season say good-bye Jump up and down Exercise and ride about the town Ride high on a horse Or canoe, on water, of course Travel hard Walk the boulevard Make a quick choice Listen to the howl of the owl's voice Lay down to sleep to rest Close your eyes, relax there's nothing else left.

Chapter Three Deep Poetry

Tree Top

Scuttle, move and wander Look what branch he's under Like the wind it flows Like a horn it blows Like trees its sweet Like brittle it's tough like meat Wander a razzmattaz Feeling life before it pass Like the flick of a wip Like a clog in a sink, every drip Like steel hard and full Like a truck mac pull Like from under a desk Not secondary, the best Like a whistle real cool Like a model nobody's fool Very, very extraordinary Like a witch mean and scary This is what is atop A tree, like a train nonstop

The Poet

With style and grace Hurdling any obstacle that face Pure and majestic With a style terrific Enhanced by a very last hold Players of card, the ace that fold Physical exertion, power of the mind Love giving, peace not hard to find A whisper, a diaper of sayings A picture neat for a treat, detailed displayings An artist, a poet, English A sand dome, freedom to accomplish An owl, a whistle Abstraction, a nuclear missle Destruction, devotion, construction, emotion Whithering sadness, frenzy, explosion With those words a poet must sit Create and assemble the ultimate Way, abstraction for the day Contoured, exquisite deposition, no way

The Pond

Drip, drip, drip The day has come Drip, drip, drip My mouth, is outlined Drip, drip, drip The way is wise As we do, from dusk everyday Holding on for an eternity This way I can comb my hair This way when dawn comes to dusk I don't have to err The sweet nectar A taste from the past Drip, drip, drip Yes, we must start that again Like inside of a crowd Meaning is so consistent At this point I can't find a way The bones have dried up My mouth is open wide Chills overcome me And I get scared But that's the way it is Drip, drip, drip

The Flower

Graceful, greatful, full of life Under satisfaction, sharp as a knife Really vigorous, graceful and true Slicing the spine from the mind and do Flowing, exasperated, done Glorious, bright and one Gigantic, consuming, desperate Glowing, knowledgeable, better yet Feeling, invigorating, stable Tall, elegant, youthful fable Stunning, wet dripping, just right Incarcerating and full peaceful night A breeze, gushing, galactic Tight, curvy, correct in tactic Homogeneous, rapid, gushing Water flow, great and rushing Petals, seed, stem, weed Metals, Breed, gem, Feed Tree stump, life dump A redwood pump, death bump

The Words

The poetry, the laureate The words, ace verbatim as good as it may get The wisdom, the honor The rhythm, too much to ponder The melody, the creation The love, the sensation The devotion, top choice The rise and fall of the poet's voice The end, the completion Immortalized words without deletion

The Movement

As winds blow The day do go As the birds flock The writer doesn't stop As passion blooms The author sits in his room Makes and creates Thinks and concentrates Like the swoop of a crane Like the whistle of a train Like a lion with full mane The smooth flow of a brain Then he rationalizes, really good Like the beat of drums, the saw on wood His mouth speech like a razor The spoken word poetry, a life savior And the duck on the pond Collecting words in an order that is fond As the sun shines from above The fleeting of a pigeon, the saunter of the dove

The Mamas and Poppas

History making, time stand still Relativity passion love to fulfill Exaggerated feeling and life on the vine This is what a mama and poppa do all the time Exhilarating refreshing like the shore Intimidating forever grateful and more Containment, theology and instruction Washing, cleaning, chores and construction Very pleasing, full and divine Quintessential, elegant, all mine A fade, a shade A blade that's made Great, don't wait Debate, a clean slate Punishment, a new stance Excitement, heat before you get the chance Extraordinary like a tulip Singe, a twin, a movie clip Wonderful, strong and exact The mamas and poppas are just like that

The Emerald

Fully shining precious and small Although tiny its value is tall Strong graceful and expensive Radiant its glow extensive Calm cool and vibrant Shining and colorful its talent Unique, heavy and great Smooth and silky its quality people venerate.

Dresser Mirror

Semantics, an actress a dresser a drawer Baits the shore Feelin love and amnesty Got a feel for what It wants to be Exaggeration I feel alive It's getting bigger all the time Yes second before first Yes the end of the worst


littler little then Bigger Big memories will always last

Four Students and a Stranger

And we came together as if by chance And we have not known each other long but we enhance Our relationahip and it is good We may have just met but now our mutual respect is understood And you looked at me as if to ask "What are you doing here, are you ready to complete the task, at hand?" I said "I'm just a wayfarer here trying to learn" We would sit and drink, hope and think for hours in turn We would share our cultures Our bodies at a stand still like sculptures At other times we would exercise And be up fresh each day at sunrise We would smile at each other But were nervous on the inside our fears we cover We worked side by side For weeks our curiosity we could not hide When the weeks expired and our like for each other solidified, that would send Us to tears when the visit did end May all your dreams come true Although fourteen days it seemed like fourteen years, may our friendship never be through

Imperial Baths

Old and imperial Made of superior material Old also means wise Wisely constructed to comprise Of a wall With your armed soldiers, you made invaders fall Protected around the clock, you were undefeatable Although, you looked like to an invader as beatable Your users was of the highest echelon But as years went on you were just a pawn Retired before you usefulness had come to an end Now I marvel at your beauty and say good-bye my friend.

German Glory

O' lord how you have made This land and with it, lives you save Oh so glorious, clean and real Leafy and green, even the birds squeal The vineyards oh so straight and perfect The vines run high rising just below the neck With towering sticks, keeping them in place Its location on the hill, affecting its taste. Oh the sun, how it shines on this quiet region Making people happy and the grapes grow by the legions Buildings and houses hanging from the slopes of the hill Although quaint, a quiet place with time to kill. The water encased by land A castle on a hilltop by itself it stands. Oh let the river flow Oh see the boat on the go A sky, a parade of loneliness But sweetness ceremonious Of life, health and beauty A bridge in the center with no duty.


Excerpted from Field of Dreams by Jerry Blaton Copyright © 2002 by Jerry Blaton. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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