Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Holiday’ Category

THE ANGEL ON OUR TREE

There she reigns, with dignity
Atop our Christmas tree
The place of honor that’s been hers
Since 1943

And as I stand and gaze at her
The years just fade away
As the precious gift of memory
Recalls my yesterday

I see the mounting excitement
As the children gather near
While we make preparations for
The best time of the year

The tree, in nature’s beauty
Stands with outstretched arms
As little hands adorn her
With pretty man-made charms

And when it’s finally gifted
With tinsel, lights, and snow
It awaits the final treasure
Our Angel’s special glow

And so the Angel’s taken
And is handed up to me
For the childrens’ arms cannot reach
The tip-top of the tree

As I place her gently on the top
And Dad plugs in the light
The joy I see in the childrens’ eyes
Is such a lovely sight

And now, it is the present
The years have flown so fast
But our Angel is still with us
A token from the past

Her wings are bent a little
And dust has grayed her hair
Her gown is somewhat soiled and frayed
But still, she hovers there

Signature’s Of Love, I call
The smudges on her face
They were placed there by the children
Before I put her in her place

Her halo may have slipped a bit
But casts its golden glow
Down through the laden branches
Onto the ones below

And when it’s time to take her down
She’s packed away with care
For as long as we shall have a tree
Our Angel must be there

12/17/71 Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

UNTIL NEXT YEAR

‘Tis the evening of Christmas and in our old house
The snoring shakes windows . . . I speak of my spouse
He said he’s exhausted, though not one to shirk
He just looked on, as I did the work

I purchased and wrapped ….. ‘twas left up to me
Baked cookies galore and put up the tree
Now the kids are playing with a few old toys
The new ones are broken; so much for new joys

The floor is quite messy with boxes and bows
And discarded ribbons . . . along with new clothes
New puppy just did what puppies do best
He wet on the floor, his hourly quest.

The fireplace clogged – I was choking on smoke
My husband kept snoring and never awoke
The tree got knocked over – I cleaned up the mess
What happens next, is anyone’s guess

Hot chocolate spilled from a broken mug
And cookies got ground right into the rug
The turkey’s a carcass, the leftover’s, few
I’m left with the dishes, but that’s nothing new

And out in the kitchen where pans are piled high
I scrub and I scour, and I sigh . . . and I sigh
Am I tired? You bet! I’ve stayed up too late
So fell fast asleep with my face in my plate

We waited all year for this wonderful day
And I’m glad that the next one’s A FULL YEAR AWAY

11/22/95 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck
(revised 12/02)

Read Full Post »

GRANDPA’S HALLOWEEN

Halloween has changed a lot
Since Grandpa was a lad.
The things they did way back then
Were really pretty bad.

On Halloween, he and friends
Played their usual pranks,
Like toppling wooden structures
And emptying cattle tanks.

They loved to pick on poor old Slim,
And did so without fear.
Eventually came their last time,
For it was Slim’s big year.

They slipped into his darkened yard,
All quiet as a mouse,
And putting shoulders to the wood,
They toppled his outhouse

The boys were devastated —
They smelled like they had died,
For Slim had slathered its contents
On the toilet’s wooden hide.

8/25/05 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

Read Full Post »

HALLOWEEN GREETING

It’s time for masks and costumes
And big black cats
It’s time for Jack-O-Lanterns
And scary flying bats

It’s time for Trick or Treating
And time for parties, too
It’s time for me to tell you, Dear
I love you

10/85 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

Read Full Post »

scarecrow
This poem is the form of a Neville and thank you to http://www.PrairieGardens.com for this frightful pair of scarecrows.

THE SCARECROW

Sad old scarecrow, tattered and torn.
I think I heard him cry,
or did the wind just sigh?
No wonder poor old thing’s forlorn . . .
no duty to uphold —
he shivers in the cold,
in his summer clothes, thin and worn.

9/9/04 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

Read Full Post »

NATIONAL SYMBOL

His beautiful wings silhouette the sky
As he soars and glides on a thermal high.
With keen eyes peering from head white as snow,
This National Symbol of our great land
Surveys the beautiful landscape below
On sleek feathered wings that lift on command.
As he soars and glides on a thermal high
His beautiful wings silhouette the sky.

10/17/91 Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

Read Full Post »

Tonight is prom night for some of our local schools and, while I wrote this poem about a birthday, it holds even more truth for prom night.  Be safe out there and don’t drink and drive.  No mother ever wants to get that call from the police.

 

     WHY ME, MOM

 

It was his birthday party.

They were first to arrive.

He told his girl he’d promised Mom

He would not drink and drive.

 

So soda was their drink of choice

Just that, and nothing more

And when the party ended

They headed for the door.

 

They climbed into his old blue car

And watched his friends depart.

He noticed some were staggering,

Bringing fear to his sad heart.

 

“I’m glad I listened to you, Mom.”

He whispered ‘neath his breath,

Because my friends are drunk tonight,

And could be facing death.”

 

“I kept my promise to you, Mom.”

He spoke aloud with pride.

Then drove away to meet his fate,

His girlfriend at his side.

 

Then sometime later, on a curve,

He saw a drunken friend.

They met head-on in violence,

Just slightly ‘round the bend.

 

Near the crash, upon the ground,

The injured totaled five.

Someone heard him whisper, “Mom,

I did not drink and drive.”

 

His blood now stains the highway red,

And in his labored breath,

The lad called to his Mother,

That ‘twas HE who now faced death.

 

“Oh, Mom, why am I lying here

In such horrendous pain,

As blood flows freely from my wounds

And mixes with the rain?”

 

“My drunken friend is walking ‘round.

I can’t help wonder why?

And now he’s looking down at me,

Too drunk to even cry.”

  

“Oh no, dear God, it cannot be!

I just heard someone say,

‘This boy is hurt so badly,

He won’t see light of day’!”

 

“Why is it me that dies, Mom?

I’m not the one to blame.

I was not drunken at the wheel,

A good friend wears that shame.”

 

“Come quickly, Mom, I need you,

To kiss before I die.

I kept my promise to you, Mom.

Yet this is my goodbye.”

 

“Write on my stone, Here Lies a boy

Taken in his prime,

By the thoughtless act of a good friend,

Drunk driving just one time.

 

2/27/97       Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

 

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »