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Archive for January, 2009

A Limerick for you.

     THE NOSEY OLD LADY

 

The nosey old lady was drunk . . .

At the zoo, she learned more than she thunk..

She showed no fear,

Pinched an elephant’s ear,                         

And he snorted her up his trunk.

 

8/29/04        Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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            PASSING MY PRIME

 

It’s been said life slips away much too fast,

And all that’s left are echoes of the past.

I thought, they can’t be right about old age,

For I will dance forever on life’s stage.

I felt challenged to accept in good grace

These wrinkles running rampant on my face.

The aches and pains that trouble here and there

Are minor problems I have learned to bear.

The years of dye that keeps my hair dark red

Hide strands of silver growing on my head.

I don’t embrace the ravages of time

Though I am past the point considered prime.

          I’d like to think that what they say are lies,

          But this old body’s saying otherwise.

 

11/21/95    Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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Fluffed up against the cold

             LITTLE SONG BIRD

 

Little song bird on my sill

          Head tucked ‘neath your wing

Feathers fluffed against the cold

          How I long to hear you sing

I watched you spring and summer

          Winging through my trees

Then nesting in my great big elm

          To raise your families

You sure were busy mothering

          As twice you raised a brood

With many tiring hunting flights

          In a constant quest for food

You fed your tiny progeny

          Until they flew away

To other trees, in other yards

          Where they will nest one day

You’ve made it through the winter’s worst

          Through winds and sleet and snow

And scant supplies of sustenance

          Though how, I do not know

And now that spring is almost here

          It really won’t be long

‘Til once again you’re parenting

          And I can hear your song

 

3/25/79         Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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A Haiku for winter

                      HAIKU

 

                      Season’s cover-up

 

                           new white blankets fell last night

 

                                earth sleeps in cold robes

 

 

9/2/06                    Phyllis DeWitt

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Because man loves veal

       BECAUSE MAN LOVES VEAL

 

He stands in his waste in a darkened stall,

His world ‘til death, dirty rails and barn wall.

He’s never to run or frolic at all.

 

Imprisoned before his first natural meal,

Life dealt the calf an unfortunate deal.

He’ll stay there ‘til death, because man loves VEAL.

 

8/28/90              Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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THE GOOD OLD DAYS

 

Was the taste of life sweeter

When I was just a kid

I believe there was more pleasure

In the simple things we did

 

Candy was more delicious

Than today, anywhere

And ice cream was a great treat

Because it was so rare

An orange in our Christmas sock

Was a very tasty treat

All of the oranges since that time

Could never taste as sweet

 

Toys were very simple then

Of wood, and metal, too

And they were really treasured

Because there were so few

A wooden top and marbles

A simple checker set

A composition baby doll

That didn’t even wet

 

I don’t recall getting bored

Like children of today

We always made our own fun

When we wished to play

There was Hopscotch and Jump-rope

And, of course, Hide and Seek

A continuous game of “You’re It”

Which carried on all week

 

Old inner-tubes were treasured

And the source of great fun

When cut into rubber bands

For a handmade wooden gun

There were roller skate scooters

Tin can walking-cleats

And wooden stilts for the brave

All, for childish feats

 

I’d like to step back in time

And greet it with a smile

Reliving joys of childhood

For just a little while

 

3/11/89    Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

 

2’nd … Indiana NPD 1999

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      IN HIS YOUTH

 

I wonder about the life He had

When Jesus was a little lad.

I wonder how He spent His day.

Was He a joyful child at play?            

                    

Did He play games and perhaps race,

And get some dirt upon His face?

I’ve often wondered, might it be

That He once played like you and me.

 

Did He go fishing in the creek

And get a sunburn on His cheek?

Was there a dog to love and pet?

Was there a chore He’d oft’ forget?

 

I wonder if He climbed a tree,

And if He fell and scraped His knee.

When He got bruises while at play,

Did He have Mom kiss tears away?

 

In His excitement did He shout,

When He played tag and ran about.

Did He like frogs and bugs and toads

And barefoot walks on dusty roads?

 

Was He like other little boys,

Who liked to make a lot of noise?

Or was He quiet and quite sedate

With future things  to contemplate.

                                                       

Did He have knowledge from His birth

Of His design upon this earth . . .

That He would be our Guiding Light

In teaching us to live life right?

 

I’m sure He knew, as time passed by,                                   

That He would die for you and I,

Upon the cross at Calvary,

Fulfilling earthly destiny.

 

5/19/02              Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

 

2’nd Place…

Arkansas –  National Poetry Day 2002

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