POETRY AND WATERCOLORS BY ALICE
Alice Gale aka Alice Brady aka Maryanne O’Connell Crowley. Alice died in 2016 ~ wife, mother, orphan, artist.
Given ~ Taken for adoption in 1931 ~ Bronx Maternity Hospital. First residence New York Foundling.
All records of her early life sealed by the courts.
She was named “Mary” after the Virgin Mary as many girl residents of New York Foundling were given this name.
Entirety of life affected by abandonment.
Only found out her real name in 2000.
Alice ~ mother Regina Gale, father John Brady
Strange to muse that had she known her parents, I, my brothers and sister would never have been born.
Also, Alice’s inclusion in Historia is for the merits work she produced over a lifetime
~ in every sense she was self taught ~
Enjoy her Art
The Night Of All Nights!
On the ‘eve of all hallows, all over the land,
Ghosties were gathered, mostly mischief was planned.
The bats and the spiders crept out of their caves
And very old ghosties slipped out of their graves.
The goblins and ghoulies slid down to the glen.
Left the forest behind filled with polties and then
A great witch and grand warlock zoomed down from on high
In a blackened chariot through the bright sky.
Come Felix, and Puffy, come Scruffy and Slick
Come Tabby and Toodles…go Tiger and Pick
A tree that is dead, in the moonlight all mangled ,
The one on which, last night, the scarecrow was strangled
Are you sure there are pumpkins…Jacks great and small
All ready to roll on the whippoorwill’s call.
Gather the ghoulies, bats, goblins and spiders
Send along ghosties as wispy night riders.
Oh, winds howl and shriek! Leaves fall and boughs break!
Let all windows slam shut and all shutters shake!
Shut the lamplights down low, let the garden gate creak…
And then, for good measure, make the grey mouse squeak.
As soon as the children peek out left and right
Have the very old ghosties hand them a fright.
“Come out little kiddies, come out, Trick or Treat…
Great witch and grand warlock await down the street.”
Oh my, then they’ll steal you…right out of sight
That’s if you’re not careful…this Hallow’een night!
Beloved Child
A sharp intake
A sigh
A small quick glance
Let go
Must not embrace
Destroy
But must secure
A bond
And now goodbye
Know you
Look back little one
Know me
Colorado Sky
The 2 a.m. starline is ready to use
Strung out ‘round the moon in that oh so black sky
The 2 a.m. starline is primed for the blues
Or some clues…no time for goodbyes
Grab hold of the starline, awake so awake
No sleep for the spirit
Grab hold of the lifeline…and
Know that you are loved
And will always be
The light, my life
The 2 a.m. starline…is mine.
Beach Bum
Forget the tree, bush, bud and flower
It’s rock debris that holds the power
Pine cones, needles, moss,
and grass?
If it’s not sand, well, I’ll just pass.
Don’t mention the lure of
the limpid lake
Or babbling brook – for Heaven’s sake
I want the heat beneath my feet
To sear this soul, make it whole.
Then there’s the rolling golden plains
And you can bet they’re not the grains
Trickling from this outstretched hand
It’s sand – you understand.
Another and another mountain peak!
But I love you sand.
It’s you I seek
In sunlight, moonlight, nothing more
That wandering ribbon by the shore.
Two – Way South
Do you love me?
Do you love me?
If you love me,
Let’s get goin’
Hit the road, the’ll
Be no slowin’
Down on this trip…so
Snatch up the pink slip,
Pass up the air strip
And roll on out.
Are you comin’?
Are you comin’?
If you’re comin’
Let’s get crackin’
There’s no backin’
Out tomorrow.
That past is gone…so
Hold on and come on
Look up and be gone.
We’re ridin’ two-way south
Yeah, two-way south.
That’s the way to go…
Where the sun and the moon
and the stars
All shine together
At the same time.
And whether…yeah, whether
You like it or not
It’s the spot
For something to begin.
Our Beach House
He carried the old rockers
Out back to the shed;
Dismantled the green hammock,
Funky summer bed.
She folded quilts and blankets,
Napkins, tablecloths;
Put them is a cedar chest;
That will fool the moths.
He swept the sand from the house,
The porch, steps and walk.
All this was accomplished with
Very little talk.
She gathered up the sea shells;
Put them in a box;
Closed down all the windows,
Locked up all the locks
He pulled the tiny sailboat
From the water’s edge;
Put it in it’s little home
Behind the privet hedge…
She filled up the big cooler
With food, wine, and such.
He carried out the take-homes;
As usual, too much.
They stood there in the evening
As the dusk fell down
And with a sigh, decided
To go back to town.
“Wait!” she said. I know, he smiled
“Couldn’t we just stay?”
“The summer’s over, Pet, not
Even one more day.”
Sandy Beaches
Sandy beaches
Outer reaches
A tide that teaches
Inconsistence
A waxing moon
A waning June
A mental tune
Heard in the distance
Oh summer breeze
Ease this unease
Pleas that say please
Bring me somewhere
Salt on these cheeks
A midnight that speaks
To a soul that seeks
Release from despair
The Prize
Imagine!
My design
For the new Fine Wine and Dine
On the corner of Gollywood and Vine won!
Please, confine your applause to two minutes or more.
And, even MORE imagine!
It’s a sign of the times
They have selected
My divine line called Nine (after my shoe size) for interior appointments
I’ll have to resign myself to accepting all the accolades
Simple sublime, my climb to the top.
The Friend
I’m gonna run away
Today – that’s right – today
I’ll hide out in the park
Then wait ‘til it’s black dark
And race across that park
To Daddy’s house – to Daddy’s house
Oh, he will be so glad
I’m his girl – he’s my Dad
But Mama musn’t know
She wouldn’t let me go
Well here I am at last
Perhaps we’ll fix the past
Me thinks I’ll ring the bell
It’s gonna be so well
He’ll open up the door
‘Cause that’s what doors are for.
Oh, look it’s opening wide
Can’t wait to get inside!
“Daddy, Daddy – who is this?”
“Now just hold on there little miss
She’s a friend of mine.”
“Oh-“
The Friend
I’m gonna run away
Today – that’s right – today
I’ll hide out in the park
Then wait ‘til it’s black dark
And race across that park
To Daddy’s house – to Daddy’s house
Oh, he will be so glad
I’m his girl – he’s my Dad
But Mama musn’t know
She wouldn’t let me go
Well here I am at last
Perhaps we’ll fix the past
Me thinks I’ll ring the bell
It’s gonna be so well
He’ll open up the door
‘Cause that’s what doors are for.
Oh, look it’s opening wide
Can’t wait to get inside!
“Daddy, Daddy – who is this?”
“Now just hold on there little miss
She’s a friend of mine.”
“Oh-“
The Smell Of An Empty House
Is sad
Silent
Concealing
The smell of an empty house
Could be revealing
Compliant
Glad
It is to me
I’ve come to stay.
To The Artist
I walk the lonely shore
Unhurried, unafraid
I want for nothing more.
There’s need to see the sea.
Decisions to be made.
I walk the lonely shore.
Once more I’ll make my plea
Dues have long since been paid.
I want for nothing more.
Is it pure fantasy.
Lord, let me make the grade.
I walk the lonely shore.
What do I have to be
To get my music played
I want for nothing more.
Though success eludes me,
This life I would not trade.
I walk the lonely shore.
I want for nothing more.
