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My beautiful six year old niece, Lynette, left this earth one Christmas, long ago. This is written with fond memories of her love.

LYNETTE
(HER LEGACY OF LOVE)

In our Treasure Chest of Memories
There lies in sweet repose
A precious little jewel
That radiantly glows

Its luster will not tarnish
And we recognize its worth
For ‘twas placed there by an Angel
With a mission here on earth

God chose the best He had up there
To share with us awhile
To captivate us with her charm
And with her winsome smile

To know her, was to love her
And like sunshine every day
She left exquisite bits of bliss
On those who came her way

That was her mission here on earth
(Though short it may have been)
And since her work was finished here
God took her home again

Her loss cannot be measured
Her memory will not dim
But it’s not for us to question
It’s always up to Him

God knows what’s best for each of us
As He watches from above
That’s why He had her leave behind
A Legacy Of Love

And when the tide of grief’s despair
Becomes a rivulet
We’ll open up our Treasure Chest
And look deep into it

We’ll find with-in, the gifts she gave,
Once tucked away with care
Now precious jewels of memory
Our hearts will always wear

Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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ed-phy-w-by-carThis is a photo of my brother, Edward (on the left) and myself, the girl on the right.   This poem is very close to the true story  of his NOT teaching me how to drive. 

 
WHY I NEVER LEARNED TO DRIVE
(And Probably Never Will)

I never learned to drive a car
And often wondered why
No one took the time to teach
This girl, once young and shy

Could it be that awful story
My brother used to tell
About the day he tried to teach . . .
Comparing it to Hell

First I hit the chicken coop
With quite a thunderous clap
And both of us then ended up
With chickens in our lap

While fighting clouds of feathers
I backed into a tree
I didn’t do much damage then
But Ed was mad at me

And then I hit the garden fence
In panic, as I slid
I just said, “They never should
Have put it where they did”

In backing up I spun the tires
And spumes of dust arose
Then as I freed the tires, I braked
And poor Ed bumped his nose

The cow was watching all that time
With look of such surprise
Until I almost hit her rump
Then terror filled her eyes

Ed jerked the wheel just in time
By now, his eyes were wide
As I drove onto the hilltop
And down the other side

Ed jammed his foot onto the brake
And stopped upon a dime
For traffic on the highway there
Was busy at that time

He told me to get out, right then
And walk back up the hill
While he mopped his bloody nose
And spoke with such a chill

He never took me out again
And it made me rather sad
Because no one else would either . . .
But I think the cow was glad

Phyllis VanVleck . . . 9/25/01

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    THE TWO-SEATER

 

It was our family two-seater

With large adult size holes

And last year’s big Sears catalog

Instead of tissue roles

 

That little house of weathered wood

With roof of rusted tin

Held terror for the little ones

For fear of falling in

 

With cracks and knotholes in the walls

And usual moon-shaped vent

You could say ’twas air conditioned

But it didn’t change the scent

 

Not a person dared tarry there

Which wasn’t a surprise

They’d hurry out to breathe fresh air

And leave it to the flies

 

I couldn’t stand the wafting scent

Assaulting my poor nose

So when I had to sit out there

I’d contemplate a rose

 

Two frosted rings in wintertime

In summer, ghastly heat

But the worst thing to be endured

Was sliver in one’s seat

 

8/9/89      Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

 

 

3’rd … Arkansas NPD 1994

3’rd … Indiana NPD 1994

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THE BOOK UPON THE SHELF

 

 

A little book of poetry

Lies upon the shelf

Penned words revealing who I am

All written by myself

 

The once blank pages almost speak

When opened to the rhymes

For heart and soul, in black on white

Bear essence of the times

 

The leather cover’s brittle now

With title worn away

The yellowed pages loose and torn

But treasured to this day

 

It opens to a special verse

Where pressed upon the page

Is a flower that I placed there

At quite a tender age

 

A ribbon marks another page

A poem that makes me weep.

Other poems can make me laugh

Or dream sweet dreams, in sleep

 

God’s blessings fill some pages

Not written as a whim

For the pages would be empty

Without this gift from Him

 

When memory tugs my heart and soul

The book becomes my friend

As I turn the fragile pages

And read the words I penned

 

When I depart this earthly realm

I’ll leave a bit of self

Found within the written words

Of the book upon the shelf

 

 

5/29/94 – Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

 

3’rd … Arkansas NPD 1994

6’th…. Indiana NPD 2001

 

      REVISED 2003

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If I could make the world a poem

There’d be a verse called Peace

And all the hate that’s in the world

Would fade away and cease

 

And wouldn’t it be wonderful

To have a verse called Share

No hunger, thirst, or suffering

For those in need to bear

 

If I could make the world a poem

There’d be a verse called Smiles

You’d see no frowns or furrowed brows

For endless happy miles

 

And wouldn’t everyone approve

To have a verse called Love

For family, friends, and everyone

With blessings from above

 

If I could make the world a poem

There’d be a verse on Joy

With happiness for young and old

And every girl and boy

 

The world could be just like a poem

If we could all agree

To unify such attributes

And live in harmony

 

08/16/95  – Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

 

1’st … Indiana NPD 1995 

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