The Welbourne Papers

By Cliff McDuffie

I lost my father when I was 7 and did not have the pleasure of knowing much about him and would rather my children not have that experience.
Over the last twenty years, with the advent of personal computers, I began saving my poetry, official letters, letters to the editor and things that have come to mind for what ever reason.
In the last year I have determined that rather than have a drawer full of papers for my children to throw away, I would attempt to gather them all and but them in book form so that they may, if they ever read them, have a better understanding of who I am.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503530355

Cliff McDuffie

About the author Welbourne Clifton McDuffie, Jr.”Cliff” Raised in Florida during WWII. Served with the US Army Security Agency at NSA, Ft. Meade, MD. An A.V.Pres. of Exchange National Bank of Tampa. Employed at the Tampa Chamber of Commerce for some 20 years then Executive director of the Zephyrhills, FL. Chamber of Commerce for 7 years. Elected Mayor of Zephyrhills in 2002 and retired in 2012. Two sons, “Trey” and Michael, three adorable grandchildren, Cassidy, Julian and Olive and daughter–in-law Wendy. Married to Joyce Burton Hatfield in 2001 and consider her sons, Mike and Roger and their wives Karen and Nena also as my own. A published poet and award winning photographer and enjoy wood working and carving. I hope you enjoy this book as much as I have enjoyed the remembering.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Cliff McDuffie.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 01/23/2015

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

553292

Contents

POETRY

Angels in Green

Teachers

Christmas Eve Remembered

A Birthday Rhyme

Spirit Waltz

Mornin Time

Retired, They Say

You are my love

Brown Eyes

Scots Forever

Old Leaves

Who I Am!

Home is Calling

Gently, Please

Poor Rhymes

Lily

Spring Oak

Betwixt And Between

Day Dreams

Homecoming

Thunderstruck

What If

Huggy

G’bye Mom

Love in May

Old Glory

Someday, Somewhere

Spring and St Patrick

Spring

Sun Time

Thoughts before sleep

Tomorrow? I Wonder.

Tree

Untitled

Valentine

William Wallace

Wind in Her Hair

Macfie International

MacFie Clan of America

Wedding Vow

Fenton, MI

The Gate

We Are

Spring Leaves

Rugged Cross

High on a Hill

Under Your Wing

New Years Thoughts

The Garden

Frowning Lady

Fall

A Shepherd Lad

Dreams I have

More Light

Blairsville Games

Moon Light on the Terrace

The Side of the Road

From memory

What We See

The Road Taken

Fairy dust

Mind Trips

Maxwell Our Yorkie

Thief of Day

OTHER WRITINGS

Why Write

Yes it’s True!

What’s happened to America?

Mom’s Service

Dad……….what I remember. Welbourne C. McDuffie Sr. 1903-1940

Zephyrhills News

It’s Time

Our Bowl of Cherries

Sun

Sundown

Time Past

Awake

Mornings

Full Moon Rising

The Diamond

Joyce Elaine Burton Hatfield

A Birthday Rhyme

State of the City of Zephyrhills

City Government 101

Resignation as Executor Director, Zephyrhills Chamber of Commerce

Snowed In

Ref: ALPU Annexation

Re; Planning Commission meeting

The Blue Danube Trip Grand Circle Travels, Inc. October 2004

RE: 5-foot setbacks

Memo to: Zephyrhills Charter Review Committee

Zephyrhills City Charter Revision 2005

Costa Rica Trip

Alex Gottlieb

Thoughts for PATRIOTS DAY event 2005

Kmart

The Thrill of the race………..

Robert Stoetzner

Note to Tom Jackson Tampa Tribune reporter June 2006

From Planning Commission meeting minutes August 8, 2006

Christmas on the Rhine Grand Circle Travels, Inc. December 2006

My Living Legends

Good morning Mr. Blackburn

Six days on the Amazon Overseas Adventure Tours September 2007

Opening talk for Zephyrhills High School FBLA May 2008

Greece and the Greek Islands Overseas Adventure Travels July 2008

Community Covenant talk

Thoughts for Patriots Day event 2008

Thoughts for Veterans Day event Nov. 2008

Community Thanksgiving Service

Statement concerning LES

Linda Radtke

Thoughts for Eagle Scout award presentation

Zephyrhills City Volunteers

Ref: Long Range Transportation Plan

Millage Ordinance Veto—Aug 2009

Egypt Trip

Thoughts for Veterans Day event 2009

Department of Transportation

Representative Ginny Brown-Waite

Honorable John L. Mica

Marilyn Whitney

HHS Alumni Association

Family

Amendment 4 talk

Thoughts for PATRIOTS DAY event 2010

My thoughts concerning our USA today!

Hogar de Niño’s Mission Trip

Opening thoughts for 911 event

Opening talk for Veterans Parade Nov 12 2011

Founders Day

Religion and the government

Opening thoughts for Special Olympic event

Student of the Month Banquet

Why we salute our flag?

Re: Renaming 6th Ave. Martin Luther King in Zephyrhills, Florida

New firehouse building for Zephyrhills

Thoughts Concerning Police Chief

Planning Commission

Re; City Manager search

Agency for Health Care Administration

Farewell to City Council

Letter to City Employees

Email to Linda Boan, City Clerk

Zephyrhills Economic Development Task Force Report To City Council

Why Have a Mayor?

Pasco County Why?

It’s Time

Mrs. Tichner’s Eggnog

Short Story exercise June 2006

RELIGION

Christmas and the Christmas Tree

A Thought for the Christmas Season

Patriots Day prayer

Every Day Is A Gift From God Sermon….First United Methodist Church, Zephyrhills

Thoughts for Community Day of Prayer Event WHO DO YOU CALL COMMUNITY?

Mayors Prayer Breakfast October 12, 2002

Sermon October 2003

Community Prayer National Day of Prayer May 6, 2004

Layman’s Sunday prayer

Opening thoughts for Christmas Parade 2009

Community Day of Prayer

AWARD WINNING PHOTOS

Arenal Costa Rica

Jericho well Jordan

Olive Rose McDuffie

Passau Germany

Pigeon Forge Tennessee

Victoria Lilly Amazon River Peru

Vilshofen Germany

POETRY

The poems contained in this section were originally written just for my own pleasure and with no thought to publishing them.

Over the years I have written my idea of poetry on scraps of paper, napkins in restaurants, backs of church envelopes (during church service I will admit) and on just about anything that would take pencil or ink.

I kept these for a long time and when computers became accessible, begin entering those bits and pieces into my computer and using the computer as my writing tablet.

I still put my thoughts down whenever they come to me and then transfer to this instrument of modern day.

Most of these poems have already been published as I did that myself using a local printer to do the printing for me. A few have been published in national poetry books and local newspapers.

I sincerely hope that you enjoy reading my poems as much as I have enjoyed writing them. There may be no rhyme nor reason for some, just a little whimsy.

ENJOY!!!

Angels in Green

Not all angels have wings,

Not all angels can fly.

Some wear white caps,

With a twinkle in their eye.

The green suits they wear

Are a far cry from white,

Tho they laugh and cajole you,

You’re handled with care

These angels in green

You can find in health care

And if not for them,

There’d be no fun there.

The next time you visit

To the place they command,

They’ll be there to help you,

And extend a loving hand.

So be kind to the angels,

You see in green garb

And your stay at their place,

Won’t be so very hard.

Teachers

They stand before us,

most of our life.

They teach us to read,

to spell and to write.

Oft times they’re forgotten

as time rolls by,

but they’re the ones

who taught us to try.

They come in all sizes,

both short and tall.

They grade our papers

and monitor the hall.

They blow our nose

and dry our eyes.

In time, most become,

the ones we idolize.

Some are warm,

gentile and kind.

Others are tough.

All teach us to mind.

Their pleasure in life,

comes not from their earning

but to see a youngster,

in the process of learning.

These special people,

who cheer from our bleachers,

are known world round,

simply as TEACHERS.

Christmas Eve Remembered

Twas the night before Christmas,

and I’m without a spouse.

So I wander around,

alone, in this OLE house.

I’ve wrapped the presents

for the grandkids you see,

with bright colored paper

and then had some tea.

No stockings to hang

not even a fireplace.

No jolly red cheeks or twinkling eyes

but thinning gray hair, wrinkled face

and a thickening waist.

I settle down in my favorite chair

and at the TV vacantly stare.

Those visions of sugar plumbs

I had as a child

are replaced with a mischievous smile.

That noise on the lawn,

as I shuffle to the door,

is the neighborhood kids

and nothing more.

I wonder aloud as others may do

what happened to the Christmas we once knew.

With jolly St Nicholas,

presents on the tree

and Mom reading the bible

as we sit at her knee.

There was a feeling

that seems to be gone,

of sugar cookies and a sweet smelling home.

One of family and joyful song

Of singing carols,

Out on the lawn.

Of longing for the days

to be shorter to see,

what St Nick had left us under the tree.

We bought for our sisters

and brothers too. It mattered not what,

except that it was new.

Then we wrapped all the gifts

with tissue galore

and placed them carefully

under the tree, on the floor.

All night we tossed

and turned in our beds

and it wasn’t sugar plums

dancing in our heads.

Alone, is not for this time of year.

You need your friends and family near.

But isn’t it wonderful

to look in your minds eye,

remembering those days long gone by.

They can’t be replaced

with all this glitter,

frenzied shopping

and everyone in a twitter

So I rise from the chair

and slip into the kitchen.

Put out the cookies

and a small glass of milk.

Then very quietly

as in days long gone,

steal off to bed humming a song.

Now, as I slide

under the quilt,

I smile, as I remember

who used to drink all that milk.

So, on Donner, on Blitzen

and all the rest,

for I know in my heart

my life’s been blest.

A Birthday Rhyme

A loan of a Gargoyle

to protect your life.

So place it by your door

he’ll protect you from harm.

Some glitter for your ears,

though really not real,

they’ll last for years

and add to your charm.

The egg is a symbol,

of a new start in life,

but with this one I’m asking

Will you be my wife?

PS She said yes!

Spirit Waltz

From across the floor,

our eyes meet and hold.

A feeling flows across the space.

Music begins as she slips

across the floor

and into my arms.

We begin to glide and sway

with the sounds of a waltz

flowing over us.

We are one as though

we have danced

in each other’s arms forever.

Her hand, so lightly in mine

is the touch of soft feathers.

Our eyes never leave the others

As we dip, float, soar

with pulsing music pouring

over and around us.

The music no longer plays

As we twirl to our own beat

never missing a step.

Sounds and the electric aura

slowly dissolve.

We stop, she moves against me

Brushes her lips to mine

and is gone.

Mornin Time

Got up this mornin

‘bout half pass five.

Thanked the good Lord

I was still alive.

Sat on the porch,

coffee in hand

a listenin to the sounds

of natures own band.

Crickets were fiddlin

while the birds got in tune,

dogs in the distance

was howlin at the moon.

Now I heard a lit’le shuffle

neath the porch, figur’d

t’was a coon, nuthin much.

Them roosters was start’n

their cock-a-doodle-do,

so now t’was soundn

more like a zoo.

But thas alrite,

I says to myself

watchin the sun

akissin the dew,

as ole Bess, the cow,

came out with a moo.

I knowed deep down

t’was meant to be

as I sipped the last

of that hot coffee.

The Lord knows how

to start a day.

Now its up to me

to get on my way.

So I say a Howdy

to all God’s critters,

thanked the Lord again

for the day and

ambled off to earn my pay.

Retired, They Say

Sittin’ on the bank with my fishin’ pole,

a hoping that worm will do it’s thing

and pleased I ain’t gotta listen

for no phone to ring.

Done retired or so they said,

still it’s 5AM when I crawl outta bed.

No longer do I havta shave

and if I don’t want to, don’t havta bathe.

Worked all those years so I could roam,

but just seem to sit around here at home.

But that’s ok cause the little lady’s here

and what she brings is a lotta cheer.

So I watch this line, a danglin’ there

and if a fish bites, I don’t care.

I read my books and work with wood

just like anybody in their right mind should.

My life’s ok I’m here to say, as

I thank the good Lord for another day.

You are my love

You stand by my side,

Though you are not here,

As our lives are entwined

In this, the eighth year.

We’ve climbed the mountains

And flown the skies,

Walked the land of Heather

And visited where royalty lies.

Of beaches we’ve walked

And the shopping galore,

I don’t know which

I’ve enjoyed more.

Warm memories abound

Of the joy we’ve shared.

I hold you close

Though you‘re not around.

Seldom together,

More often apart.

You are my love,

I give you my heart.

Brown Eyes

The trail is long and hard,

Leaving their lands behind.

Brown Eyes crying,

Cast upon the ground

Their forefathers knew not this way

Had never traveled this path.

Tribes forced together, day after day.

Brown Eyes crying in the rain.

Struggling to Oklahoma

Where most have never been.

Never to hunt their lands

Or roam their forest glen.

Brown Eyes crying in the rain.

Some break out and widely roam,

Most are weary of the test.

Their spirits broken, seeking rest.

Brown Eyes crying in the rain.

Trail of Sorrow or Trail of Tears

Displaced from their lands

For the rest of their years

Heads downcast

Brown Eyes crying in the rain.

Scots Forever

Oh Scotland, thru you our lines run deep.

The Mother Shores we often seek.

We revere our past.

The land of Argyle, thistle bloom and

rampant Lion holding fast.

From Celts and Picts our fathers came

to stand upon your shores,

forever to roam the Bens and Moors.

Culloden rose and smote the Lion

and spread us to the winds.

We come together as before,

seeking clan from every shore.

Hold dear the Clan, keep it strong

Sing your songs oft and long

Of the land wince we came.

It’s future is our past.

We pledge our love to Scotland,

till we’re home again, at last.

Old Leaves

In the spring of time

we waved in the breeze,

full of color

and life if you please.

Covering the tree

with shades of green,

waving in the wind

and loved to be seen.

We played in the rain

and fed the trunk,

sometimes the wind whipped up

and we really felt drunk.

Waving and sighing

on the least little breeze,

so green and lovely

in the tops of the trees.

Alas, fall is now upon the air,

the sun is less and we despair.

Still laughing and swaying

as we begin to change.

Green is gone,

replaced with red,

gold, and orange instead.

Now the winds blow

and it rattles our stems,

as one by one

we depart from the limbs.

Our fall is so graceful

gently swaying to the ground.

Our tree is still sturdy,

it stands tall and bare,

it’s limbs now rattle

in the cold winter air.

So now we are brown

and oh so still,

just old leaves,

lying on the ground.

Who I Am!

The width and breadth of me,

is all my fellow man can see.

The depth and measure that I am

is how I choose to be.

I cannot stand in others shoes,

I can only answer for how I choose.

When I have passed

and the roll is called

I must answer and stand tall.

For those I leave behind,

I do not wish to be

someone who is not me.

So the width and breadth you see

together with the depth and measure of me,

is who I am and that’s who you see.

Home is Calling

I stop and listen carefully,

head cocked to one side.

There’s music playing

in the fields of forever,

calling me home to reside.

The time is not for me, I’m sure,

though loudly the music rages.

The metamorphosis of my life

has been like crystal

butterflies on ragged pages.

I have more time. Of this I’m sure.

But then again,

there’s music playing

in the fields of forever.

Gently, Please

If I should fall upon the floor, asleep,

Please, my body, under the table sweep.

But please, gently, not to break

and God forbid not to wake!!

Poor Rhymes

Oh, the lass at rhyming tries

To make like Bobby Burns.

Her rhymes to me ears draws flies

And how me tummy turns.

Oh wee Bobby in the earth

You’ve waken him from his sleep

Some 200 years from his birth

And made the poor fellow weep.

Lily

Lilies, all colors and shapes,

long stems, reaching for the sky.

Yellows, reds whites and purple of grapes,

all so beautiful they make you sigh.

Not in a garden for all to see.

but as beautiful as any I know.

Lily, as lovely as she can be,

more lovely than those that grow

A crown of black with almond eyes

that twinkle when she smiles.

A smile that warms the heart

and wipes away the miles

She is a lady in every way,

from far across the sea.

She brightens my day

When she smiles at me.

Spring Oak

Brown leaves floating to the ground

Tiny green buds burst on limb

Suddenly green leaves all around

Golden tassels at winds whim.

Betwixt And Between

One more year we’ve seen go by

another one, ahead does lie.

We’re here between

the two of them smelling like a rose.

Betwixt, between, it always seems

we’re sitting in the middle.

It’s push and shove come and go,

no time to sit and diddle.

So stomp your feet,

clap your hands and join in the beat.

Call your tune, choose your piece

Will it be horn or fiddle.

Day Dreams

She wonders, as she reads by the stream,

of knights of yore and damsels in distress.

Her hansom prince on steed of white,

bravely galloping into the fight.

Her long blonde hair, shimmering in the sun,

as she awaits her secret one.

He’s bound to come, she whispers aloud.

Oh may that be him behind that cloud ?

Oh no, she shakes her head

and opens the book

to the page she just read.

She sits alone by the flowing stream

A lovely sight to behold.

A far away look covers her face

as she longs for a lovers warm embrace.

Strains of Brahms, Mozart, Beethoven and Bach

swirl through her thoughts.

In her minds eye she dances the waltz,

swirling and dipping in Vienna’s best style.

Warmed by the sun, her eyes she closes.

Then sees her arms, full of red roses.

Her Knight has arrived on a lively white steed.

Bringing her gifts of silver and gold.

Pearls he places round her neck

diamonds on her fingers, to flash in the sun.

Look beyond the gifts, she’s wisely been told

for the true self of a man comes from his soul.

Smiling wistfully, she slowly awakes.

Her Knight was a dream, as she well knows,

but it made her tingle, from her head to her toes. Her head is clear the book is closed

but in her minds eye, a lover, she knows.

Homecoming

He came home today.

I only know his name.

He was an honored person.

Saluted with water cannons

as the plane rolled into place.

A cordon of soldiers awaited.

Straight and tall they stood,

then marched grandly,

heads held high

as the planes door

opened to the sky.

Lifted high so all could see

but this was not the way

we would want it to be.

He returned from Iraq,

this fine young man.

He had given all

for his Mother land.

His family wept, their sorrow plain,

we all had tears and felt their pain.

Then through town for his final ride,

flags flying high at curb side.

Thunderstruck

When dark of night covers my bed

the storm rages and I cover my head.

Those thunderbolts flash and light the sky,

I am so frightened I start to cry.

They flash and crackle all over the place,

for the life of me I don’t know why.

First there’s the slash from sky to earth

then the loud boom that shatters the quite.

Not once does it bring that sound I hate

but five, six, seven and eight.

I roll in my cover afraid for my life

wondering why the good Lord

puts me through this much strife.

Suddenly the thunder rolls over my bed.

I cringe again and shiver with dread,

fearing the noise that shakes my bed.

Then a calmness flows o’er me

which I cannot explain,

It’s gone! I can now hear the rain.

The rain is much needed to make things grow,

the thunder and lightening is part of the show.

I need not fear just be concerned

so I’m not caught outside and get a bad burn.

It’s all arranged by our Maker I sense.

Knowing this I am less tense.

Night is passed and the dawn is breaking

I can feel my body slowly awaking.

As I look out the window and see all the green.

Rain waters our crops and fills our wells.

waters the roses and those dainty bluebells.

Now I think, as I see the light,

To be afraid of all that noise

and hide my head is quite alright.

But always remember when the storms come by,

that it’s all programmed by that Man in the sky.

What If

Sometime it happens

and you don’t know why.

You’re not looking and

a special person comes by.

You talk a while and

laugh and smile then

start to seek that person out.

Throughout your day,

you think of them

in such a special way.

You start to wonder,

how they are today.

You send a kiss,

through your minds eye,

you long to touch her cheek

and hear her tender sigh.

To hold her in a tight embrace.

To share a glass of wine,

or cup of tea

happy, with her, to be.

Or just sit by the fire,

letting her know of your desire.

To see that smile that

lights up her face

Knowing your hearts belong

in the same space.

As time goes by,

someday you meet then

you know your heart

will miss a beat.

Sometimes it happens

but they are out of reach

You find that special one.

What if?

Huggy

I drew a hug

then gave it a smile

and set and looked at it

for a little while.

There seemed to be

a missing part

to show a warm and loving heart.

So I gave it hands

on either side,

loving arms opened wide.

Then I sent this hug to you

just in case you were feeling blue.

I’ve sent it to so many places

oh how I’d love to see

those smiling faces.

A hug is needed,

from time to time,

so I’m sending you mine

along with this rhyme.

G’bye Mom

I watched my mother lying there,

in her final bed

and wondered just what thoughts,

were swirling through her head.

Was she remembering the times

before Dad died? Or just

the wonderful life with

all her children she’s had.

We’ll never know just

what she’s thinking,

as she goes her way

without blinking.

We know she loves us all

and of that we’re sure.

She knows we gathered round

to bid her farewell.

We’ll turn her loose

to go her way, to

join Dad on her final day.

We love you Mom

and always will,

though you lie there,

so small and still.

2003

Love in May

Her lips soft as rose petals brushed mine.

Warm, sending shivers up my spine.

Legs entwined, bodies warm and satisfied.

Beginning to relax with the softness of sleep.

She whispers I love you gently touching my cheek.

Happy Birthday I say you are just as wonderful

as from that very first day.

Old Glory

In the dark of the night,

the fires he could see.

Fog and smoke thick

as pea soup could be.

There! As a rocket lit up the sky,

Old Glory’s still waving

and he wondered why.

The battle had raged

all through the night.

He could tell from the glare,

the fort was a frightful sight.

As he set with his pen

the words begin to flow,

describing the sights

he beheld in that glow.

From the rockets red glare

and fires burning bright.

Yes, she’s still waving there,

what a beautiful sight.

Red and white with stars on blue

as morning softens the night.

Tattered and torn against the blue sky,

Old Glory how proud

still waving on high.

As the smoke lifts he exclaims aloud,

Oh, Say can you see?

Someday, Somewhere

Sometimes you find someone

in a far away place.

Someone you never knew

and had only seen their face.

They come to you across the air

then slowly it takes place.

Your heart begins to open

in a very special way.

You start looking for

that special person

every single day.

That feeling goes

from just hello

to Sweetheart I love you so.

One day you may be free

to fly across the sea.

Then the two of you together

forever may be

Spring and St Patrick

She plays with us from day to day.

Creeping up ever so slow.

We wonder