Rebecca's PenThe creative works of R.E.W.

About R.E.W

I am author, artist, history buff, wishing to share these three passions of mine with anyone who cares to read this blog. The main drive between these three deep interests of mine is imagination.

History isn't just people and events in a dusty book. Writing isn't just words in a tome. Art isn't just random images in a photograph, sketch or painting. I'll give you examples of what they really are.

A while ago I wrote this poem for literature study. Do you have a touch of old-fashionedness in you?

The Wants of an Old-Fashioned Girl in a Modern World

R. E. Williams

December 16, 2011

I have watched with wide eyes

As my Native Land has alter’d

On a steady decline, towards possible demise.

The stars above still shine bright,

Ne’er fading, they’ve been gleaming there

When our Fathers defied tyranny with liberty’s might.

But scarce now do the countrymen and women raise

Their heads to Freedom’s gleam in the Heavens


I kneel upon the ground with burning soul, and weep

For young America in which I live, whose heart has darkened

Like the ones yonder overseas, their luster begun to seep

Away into the mist of the past.

Hear this little prayer of mine, solemn and wistful,

To the Mercy of our Keeper, who holds America from a fast

Descent. Call them archaic, idealistic, naïve—

The supplicant cares not a trifle.


Sweet home cannot shield a conscious girl

From the troubles that fall upon even the innocent.

A Parent’s hand cannot turn aside the swirl

Of a loosening world. My Wish from my soul

This girlish soul of mine—is to walk out

From the haven of my native heath, to in whole

Behold only the bright surface of outside

And remain untouched by the ghastly underneath.


I desire that I see the bad for a promising spot

Of Change, and the good a boon

To be further improved. Nothing would blot

Chaste thoughts and heart. Nothing would set

My spirit a-quiver with the shadow and chill of evil.

This Present Darkness would flee, never to be met

Again. Loose morals would transform into a populace

Embracing the virtues and ethics of old.


I yearn to discover, my friends and self

The Beautiful gift of true Love

And forever devotion. Cast away to a scorned shelf

The transient ardor this generation is so rapt with.

I want a tender word to ring true in my ear

To find the sweet joy so often titled a myth.

I want a Gentle-Man who does not run in the shallow

River of popular adoration and comfort.


I hope that a higher ambition, dream and fire

Shall replace the current focus on the Now.

What shall come of us, if a youth turns the future into satire

With their hollow joys and empty pursuits?

When most adults complacently accept what is, is,

What’s not is not. Technology supplants the fruits

Of labor and drive. Clever, comely lies believed more readily

Than Truth of yore that once, greater numbers perceived.


But I must face the dark, must see the night

Coming on, and hope for a speedy dawn.

The gilded surface with its dwindling firelight

Cannot hide a larger heap of ashes that constantly grows.

One cannot walk on a path filled with holes.

Sight gives the knowledge of the furrows

Before a stumble, and a Lantern’s shine

Can reach farthest into the shadow-filled nooks.


Penumbras will fall, storms do come,

Hapless days can torment one who wants

The good to always stay. I want the rain to keep from

My dreaming head. I want change to stay far

From the threshold of my life. I want family to always

Be close by, for comfort and cherishment. Death should not mar

The harmony of this home. Nor should romance come

Till I’m good and ready, if it does reach into my path.


Would I fall for someone till death do us part,

He would be ideal, valiant, a figure

Who could match the measure and art

Of Washington and Lee, in courage and virtue

But human too, of course, Molded by God’s hands,

Who feels and can suffer the trials of life, and rue

He would not become prey of. We would lead each other

In hope, peace, truth and love on earth (till death do us part).


What is, is not what it seems to be.

What’s not, is what really needs

To be seen, in all its blatant, bare verity.

A Third Great Awakening ought to emerge

And startle the people from their sleep, jar them

From their oblivion. Give them sight, give at least a verge

Of Sense and understanding. May they turn from the side of this abyss

And return to the safe valley where we ought to remain.


I pray that we will remember the stories of history,

And what these tales foreordained.

Those fallen nations—it is no mystery—

They collapsed into a prison of pagan thought and eternal shame.

Must we follow their lead, into this the mist

That never lifts, that eclipses even the former glory and fame?

No, America—may your youth ever value integrity, your people

Love truth and never trail after Greece and Rome.

There are those bleak times when one looks at the state of the nation and has a black moment of despair. It’s hard to not wonder if we are tending in the same direction–of Greece and Rome. Those old civilizations of centuries past, which have marked history with mistakes and ruin. How can we forget them? Then, as of late, there lived Adolf Hitler. The Holocaust, the hate-filled agenda–it is terrifying. I posted a video of Hitler a while back . . . it had a clear, distinct message that cried out to everyone who viewed.

Remember: When we forget history, history is DESTINED to repeat itself.

Holocaust? Abortion?

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