Happy Birthday, Holly

THE FAMILY’S LATEST STAR

She’s Grandma’s little darling
And cute as she can be
A very special little girl
On that we all agree

Perhaps I’m somewhat prejudice
‘Cause that’s how Grandmas are
I think she’s sweet and wonderful
And our family’s latest star

There’s a simple explanation
And a nice revealing key . . .
She’s everything the books say
A little girl should be

She loves to look feminine
In ribbons, lace, and bows
She’s a real little lady
From her head to her toes

She’s coy and she’s impish
Yet, that dear angelic face
Is a clue to her sweetness
And to her charm and grace

She’s giggles and good humor
She’s all hugs and kisses
She’s bouncy blond pony-tail
With charm that never misses

She’s a precious little sweetheart
And I can promise this –
She’s blessed us with her presence
Like Heaven’s sweetest kiss

4/3/77 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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Time to Play

FAVORITE PLAY

A little boy of nine or ten
Had a tree-house for a den.
He climbed the tree everyday,
It was his favorite way to play.

A little girl of five or six
Had a playhouse made of sticks.
She took her dolls there everyday,
It was her favorite way to play.

This little boy and little girl
With sandy hair and tawny curl,
Grew up and met one lovely day
And found a new way they could play.

Now, don’t be shocked – ’twas in a band,
He played drums – she played the Grand.
They practiced nearly every day,
It was their favorite way to play.

They fell in love and soon were wed.
No time for play – that’s what they said.
They raised eight children to this day —
They must have found some time to play.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Energy’s gone – they’re getting old.
She knits sweaters for the cold.
He watches T.V. shows all day.
It’s now their favorite way to play.

3/27/92 Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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A limerick for February

        THE ELUSIVE KISS (9/92)

 

The fellow just wanted a kiss

   From the lovely curvaceous dish

     The girl, filled with dread

     Just ducked her cute head

And he missed the kiss with the miss

 

09/92 – Phyllis A. DeWitt-VanVleck

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I wish I had learned to drive.

This 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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This is a true story about my granddaughter and a tree in our yard.

 

       TONI’S ROOM

 

Toni lost an old friend today

            But you may not think so

For it was just a willow tree

            With branches hanging low

The many limbs, so thick with leaves

            Were long and touched the grass

They formed a great big nature room

            With their huge shapely mass

To her, it was a special tree

            It was her hideaway

A castle, when she willed it so

            Her playhouse, every day

It had what looked like eyes to her

            Where branches were removed

It even wore a smiling mouth

            A boy’s sharp knife had grooved

So she talked to the willow tree

            As if it were a friend

She’s just a lonesome little girl

            And she loves to pretend

Whatever her moods might have been

            The tree room shared them all

For many hours were spent within

            From early spring to fall

And even in the winter months

            Into the room she’d go

Then it became her big igloo

            With branches wearing snow

Today there was an awful storm

            And lightning killed the tree

She wept in sadness at its death

            And then she said to me

I’m going to plant a tree someday

            And when it’s fully grown

There’ll be a nice big nature room

            For a child of my own

And I will share some memories

            In the shade of that tree

To tell her of the room I had

            And what it meant

 

 

3/17/89             Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

 

Judge’s Special Mention … PAW (in Pa) 1991

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