Posts Tagged ‘Robyn’

Written when my granddaughter, Robyn, was small and still wanted to be a member of our family.  She has lost her way and we miss her very much.





A scattering of small freckles

On her pert little nose

Her hair in careless disarray

Everywhere she goes


She’s always in a hurry

Seems never to run-down

A smile’s spread across her face

She’s rarely seen to frown


She’s a bit absent-minded

And a bit of a tease

She’s quick to show affection

And she’s easy to please


Her most annoying habit

(Or so it would seem)

Is not hearing what you say

When she’s lost in a dream


But I sure cannot fault her

Since that trait came from me

But, those who dream, see beauty

And that part’s nice, you see


Her concern for other people

Is wonderful, it’s true

For she’s loyal and protective

And tender-hearted, too


And when her arms embrace me

And I feel her sweet soft kiss

My heart is filled with deepest love

For this sweet little miss


And since she is so special

I give this little prayer

“Thank you God, for a special gift”

My Robyn Adair


4/2/77     Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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This poem is for my granddaughter, who is lost to us at this time.        





    our paths will cross,

        as is our destiny;

           though we parted in bitterness –

                time heals.


8/1/05        Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck



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Sing me an old-time song, Grandma

            Said the child upon my knee

Then looking up, she smiled and said

            Please sing one just for me


What do you want to hear, I asked

            She handed me a book

Just pick one of my favorites

            She said with, hopeful look


The book was old and quite well-worn

            With favorites marked in blue

Some pages were marred by dog-ears

            And scribbles someone drew


She loved to hear the songs within

            And often sang along

She was quite entranced with music

            And loved the rhymes in song


She knew we couldn’t stop at one

            She knew I loved them, too

She knew that if we opened the book

            I’d sing her quite a few


She smiled at all the happy ones

            And I could hear her hum

But when I sang the old sad songs

            A few warm tears would come


The years have passed . . . the book is hers

            Someday a child will say

Sing me an old-time song, Grandma

            Please sing for me today



9/4/88        Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck


2’nd … Arkansas NPD 1988

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Shaggy headed little flower

Yellow – like the sun,

You’re amazingly prolific,

For hundreds come from one.


Some say there’s beauty in your face

Like golden light of dawn.

But as you age, your hair turns white

And scatters on my lawn.


Then you stretch your scrawny neck

‘Til your ugly bald head

Is all that’s seen upon my lawn,

And I wish that you were dead.


Mama cooked your greens for dinner,

And Grandpa did his best

To turn you into homemade wine,

You awesome little pest.


I sprayed you with a chemical

And zapped your little crown.

I dug you out with trowel and hoe

And tried to mow you down.


My lawn was pristine once again,

No dandelions in sight.

But not for long, I should have known,

You’d multiply all night.


I plan and plot your last goodbye,

But your intent is clear —

That if I win the war this time,

You’ll just return next year.


2/17/93 – Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck   


3’rd … Indiana NPD 1994

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