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Archive for the ‘Holiday’ Category

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

 

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A Million Hearts

IF I HAD A MILLION HEARTS

 

I only have one heart to give

But what I say, is true,

That if I had a million hearts

I’d give them all to you.

 

And if you have a heart to give

I hope it goes to me,

Because I love you dearly,

And will eternally.

 

2/10/91       Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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HANDMADE VALENTINE

 

Just a little piece of art work

Consisting of one page,

Made with love by little hands

And faded now from age.

It’s a heart in sketchy contour

Trimmed with bits of lace,

And the words, “I Luv Yu, Mommie.”

Are crayoned on its face.

It hung upon the wall for years

Where it was viewed each day,

But now it’s in a small box

That I have tucked away.

A box that holds the treasures

Made throughout the years —

A daughter’s tokens to her Mom,

That prompt nostalgic tears.

And now there hangs upon the wall

A heart with crimson shine,

That says, “I love you Gram and Gramps” —

Her daughter’s valentine.

 

2/10/93            Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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THE FADED VALENTINE

 

I opened up my old scrapbook

And there upon a page

Was a small handmade valentine

From a child of tender age

 

You may think it isn’t pretty

But beauty’s all I see

For I feel love he placed inside

This little card for me

 

The color is all faded now

And age has stained the lace

But it brings to mind, memories

Of another time and place

 

Though the contour is uneven

You can see that it’s a heart

And a wonderful example of

Of a little boy’s art

 

There’s a shiny nickel inside

He’d found in the yard

It was something that he treasured

But he taped it to the card

 

The heart is smudged with fingerprints

As fits that youthful role

The penciled words, “I luv yu Mom”

Touch my heart and soul

 

There were many cards through the years

Worth the price he’d paid

But the best one I ever got

Was the first one that he made

 

1/27/93          Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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About Cupid’s work

        CUPID’S DART

 

He saw her standing in the rain,

and something stirred his heart,

could it be Cupid’s dart?

His feelings deep – akin to pain.

Was this pure chance, or fate —

he asked her for a date . . . .

another link in Cupid’s chain.

 

9/9/04   Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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              GROUNDHOG

 

Ninety-two days is an awesome number

Allowing the groundhog winter slumber

On February two, while still in sleep

Someone reached into his den in the deep

 

They shook him a bit to open his eyes

And what he saw then, was no surprise…

A throng of people, with shadows deep

So they put him back to finish his sleep

                                 

Shivering through sleep on those dark cold nights

He requests  for next year, … warm thermal tights

 

4/18/00    Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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