Posts Tagged ‘magic’


Up in branches of a huge oak tree,
Way up high where you can’t see,
Is a crude tree-house of slats and rope,
Held in place by nails and hope.

It’s way up there that I am King,
So I’m in charge of everything.
With flask of milk tucked by my side,
And a book to read, opened wide.

Sometimes I’m there to dream my dreams,
That I am fishing little streams,
But I let them all get away,
To be my catch another day.

I’m also Captain of a ship.
On windy days it’s prone to tip.
But never fear, it will not sink,
For everything’s just what I think.

Mom always knows just what I need,
And packs my lunch, as her good deed.
Some sandwiches and something sweet,
Along with scraps for birds to eat.

My books bring magic way up there,
So I can visit anywhere …
On trains, and boats, and airplanes, too,
I see the world – I tell you true.

I even take short naps when there,
But that is really very rare,
Because there’s much that I must do,
Ruling my Kingdom, ship, and crew.

7/25/05 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

For David (for his 63’rd birthday)

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I will face the future


I never believed you’d hurt me
Or ever be untrue
I thought you’d always care for me
The same as I did you

The magic left our love, I guess
Somewhere along the line
And so you gave to someone else
The love I thought was mine

I wish that I could run away
And leave my pain behind
But nothing’s solved by hiding
And it wouldn’t ease my mind

For I must live with such a wound
‘Til heartache’s on the wane,
And love then finds my heart again
When time has healed the pain

And so I’ll face the future
Though difficult it be
For from now on, it’s you and I
And never again … we

7/23/73 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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Elizabeth was very ill
At times she softly cried
Her Mom felt the child’s pain
So rarely left her side

While sitting there beside the bed
Mom’s silver needle flew
With silken thread, through scraps of cloth
And buttons that were blue

The scraps were joined with such finesse
A soft rag doll took shape
With button eyes and long yarn hair
And dressed in gown and cape

The doll was placed in small limp arms
That seemed to strengthen then
The child smiled and hugged the doll
And went to sleep again

Elizabeth’s fever broke that night
And in the morning light
Her Mom saw magic in the doll
As her child held it tight

The child knew Mom made the doll
While sitting by her bed
She knew of love in every stitch
Without a word being said

She also knew that in Mom’s heart
There was a special place
With love unlike no other love
And it mirrored in her face

Through the years, that old rag doll
Was favored over all
And now it’s honored regally
On a shelf upon the wall

It’s a memory from her childhood
When she was very ill
And she realized a depth of love
That remains with her still

I know it’s true, because you see . . .
That old rag doll belongs to me

8/29/03 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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(For my mother, Leah DeWitt)

I saw your portrait yesterday
The likeness, Mom, is true
But paint applied to canvas square
Can’t truly depict you

It doesn’t show the attributes
That I call Mom’s Bouquet
It doesn’t show the guidance
That shaped my life each day
It doesn’t show the things you taught
As mind and body grew
When you ingrained within my soul
The proper things to do
Nor show your smile when life seemed frowns
At least I see not how
Or the magic healing in your hands
When placed upon my brow

Brushes and paint cannot convey
The patience always shown
Nor selflessness indulged on all
For which you were well known

It doesn’t show the way you shared
My many joys and woes
Or how you taught me ways to cope
With life’s big highs and lows
It certainly doesn’t capture
The marvel that was you
For surface beauty’s all one sees
Since that’s what portraits do
So, though I hang your likeness, Mom
It’s just a piece of art
And the real you, described herein
Is etched upon my heart

It’s a portrait of perfection
I wish the world could see
Throughout the years, you’ve always been
Just what a Mom should be

9/26/90 Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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