My quest, today

     THIS IS THE PLACE

 

I’m sure in mind this is the place

Behind old curtains made of lace,

Where as a child I used to play.

I wonder if there’s still a trace.

 

I had to make this quest today,

Before they tear all trace away.

The wrecking crew may well be blind

To what this house might have to say.  

               

Perhaps there’s auras left behind.

I fancy them within my mind.

An open door now beckons me —

I enter in; what will I find?

 

The house is bare, with naught to see.

It yawns in all it’s apathy,

And all that’s left is memory.

And all that’s left is memory.

 

 

2/6/00            Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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Cleansing my mind

             RELEASE

 

Those tears I tried so hard to hide,

Prepare themselves to be cried.

And, oh, I wish so fervently,

Their cause had never come to be.

They say it heals to shed one’s tears.

I have not found it so in years,

But now I cry those tears held in,

And cleanse my mind as they begin.

 

3/10/96         Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

 

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Spinning Tales

   THE STORY LADY         

 

At the Story Lady’s old shack,

the children gathered near,

for what they wished to hear.

She embellished tales with such knack,

they’d lose themselves within                                 

each tail that she would spin,

and it kept them all, coming back.

 

This poetry form is called “Neville”

 

9/5/91        Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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Hidden Secrets

WHAT SECRETS DO YOU HIDE

 

Old house, what secrets do you hide

From dramas that took place inside?

 

There were births, deaths, and marriages

Within your structured frame,

Played out as fate would have it

In life’s exciting game.

 

Your walls shared joys and heartaches

As befits a house of years.

You heard melodies of laughter

And the anguish of tears.

 

You witnessed four generations

Descend from just two names,

With privy to their heritage

And to their growing pains.

 

What stories you could tell me now,

If it were not a task

That intellect would ridicule,

Though still I muse and ask – –

 

Old house, what secrets do you hide

From dramas that took place inside?

 

 

10/15/96          Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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Spring’s Display

   SEASONAL PROMISE

 

When stately tulips open up

And I see sunshine in their cup

I know that summer’s on the way

Promised then by spring’s display

 

7/12/00   Phyllis DeWitt -VanVleck

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Spider tricks

       THE DINNER GUEST

 

“I’m looking for a place to sleep,”

Said a fly to Mrs. Spider,

Then folding in his wings

He sat right down beside her.

 

“I’ll make for you, the softest bed,

And weave it with my silken thread.

It will keep you warm and snug.

It’s what I do for fly or bug.”

 

“So come on in and sit on my throne,

And be my guest, my very own.”

The fly, impressed by what she said,

Fell asleep as she made his bed.

 

A cunning spider, that was she.

In tricking him so easily;

And if you ever wonder why . . .

He was her dinner, that poor fly.

 

2/27/03              Phyllis DeWitt-VanVle

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