Archive for the ‘Memories’ Category


‘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)

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Wonderful little newcomer
Precious baby boy
A very special someone
Who fills my heart with joy

I’m wound around his finger
(Small as it may be)
I’m taken with his darling smile
When he looks at me

He’s given me a title
I’ve never had before
But Grandma is a special word
And I couldn’t love it more

I’m sure he is the handsomest
And most intelligent, too
And, of course, he is the sweetest
I swear to you, it’s true

I’m loaded with his photographs
Which I show to everyone
So they all know he’s holder of
This heart of mine he’s won

An unforgettable memory
Is that most wonderful day
The birth of my first GRANDchild
A rose in my bouquet

P.S. JR’s Birthday is actually September 6th. Sorry I missed it.
Phyllis VanVleck

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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

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Don McNeall

This is the other poem that I wrote. After the show, cast members came down from the stage to shake hands with everyone. I can still remember them all.. And Enio almost took Sally home with him, because she read this poem, that I had written. He was so flattered.

We were lucky, and had front row seats, but we had to get up early, to catch the South Shore to Chicago, from Indiana, and be among the first in line. We went twice, then went some place cheap, to eat, shopped a little, and came home on the South Shore. We thought it was very adventuresome.

Don is handsome, you’ll agree
But he’s just not the one for me
Johnny’s sings with perfect pitch
But he’s not the one for me to hitch
And Sam’s jokes are really great
But he’s just not my perfect date
And I don’t want a Philco or a Swift Premium Wiennie
My “dream boat” is, Enio Bolinini

Aug., ’49 Phyllis VanVleck

This wraps up our three days down 1949 Memory lane.

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kukla fran ollie

This is a photo of Fran and her puppets from KuKla, Fran and Ollie.

My sisters and I went to the Don McNeil Breakfast club show, in 1949. That’s the show KuKla, Fran, and Ollie got their start on. We met several of the cast members by being called upon, because of this poem and the one posted tomorrow. Don came down from the stage, and had us read the poems I had written. Here’s the poem I read, on the radio. Please note, this was also written in 1949.

To bed at ten – a restless night
Up at four – our heads are light
Ready at five – to train by six
So excited – act like hicks
Chicago by seven – Opera House at last
Now to see that wonderful cast
So here we are, and you can’t match our rage
We’re so darn far back, we can’t see the stage

Aug.1, ‘49 Phyllis VanVleck

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This poem is in progress. I would enjoy hearing your thoughts on this one.

(From My Youth)

In memory of my Mother
I write this little poem
On how she nurtured all us kids
And made our house “feel” home

There were many happy moments
When we’d sit on the swing
I’d ask for all my favorite songs
While urging her to sing

And she’d sing those old-time ditties
That so amused us all
We’d ask to hear them many times
When we were very small

Other poignant memories
That I would never trade
Are Sunday noon’s family fun
And countless games we played

We learned to be good losers
But gracious winners, too
That quarreling settled nothing
Advice we all found true

She gave us all a chance to win
And when the games were done
We made fudge or “skillet candy”
While sharing kitchen fun

She laughed with us, and cried with us
And shared our childish woes
With big doses of sage advice
That a wise mother knows

08-31-09 Poem in Progress

Phyllis Adair DeWitt-VanVleck

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Whenever there are lonely days
And no one seems to care,
I must admit the emptiness
Is hard for me to bear.

Yet thinking on past events
I often wonder why,
With all the lovely memories
I feel compelled to cry.

Have I dwelt upon the sad times
And shut the sunshine out?
Did I place up front my sorrows
And maybe pain and doubt?

I think I’ll find a corner in
The recess of my mind
Where I can place unpleasant things,
And make them hard to find,

Then fill my mind with sunshine
And happy times, too.
Then make some room for rainbows
And memories of you.

10/21/94         Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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