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Posts Tagged ‘Rose’

STEVEN WEARS A MEDAL

Steven wears a medal today,
I wonder if he knows.
It’s seen upon his suit lapel
Below a small white rose.

Steven wears a medal today,
And all his loved ones weep,
As he lies upon blue satin
In his eternal sleep.

Steven wears a medal today
His sister pinned it there,
For it was she whose life he saved
While in his old wheelchair;

Steven wears a medal today
His heroism reveals,
He saved the child from certain death,
And died beneath truck wheels.

Steven wears a medal today

8/28/93 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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My ‘promise’ ring

     TOKENS FROM THE PAST

 

Inside a box that’s tied with string,

           My promise ring.

Two locks of hair,

One dark, one fair.

The blueprint for the house we chose.

A faded rose.

Love beads of blue.

Our photos, too.

Old letters stained with tears I cried,

When our love died.

Mementoes, these.

Sad memories.

 

1/21/90             Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

 

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

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        NO GOD?

 

Sceptics say “There is no God”

They’re wrong, He’s everywhere

I need but open nature’s door

To see His wonders there

 

The velvet in a petaled rose

A butterfly’s bright hue

The sun’s warm rays upon my face

And sparkling drops of dew                                                     

A rainbow on a summer day      

A cooling mid-day rain         

Moonlight’s dusky golden glow

On earth’s great counterpane

Snow-capped mountains touching sky

With valley’s down below

An ocean with it’s white capped waves

And streams where willows grow

 

No God? With all this beauty

How foolish can they be

He’s ever present in our lives

How sad, they cannot see

 

11/20/99     Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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  PAGES FROM A DIARY

 

Today is my sixteenth birthday

He gave me this book and a rose

Then he blushed and gave me a hug

And he kissed the tip of my nose

 

Today I’m eighteen, a woman

I wondered if he would propose

Then he gave me a diamond ring

He’d placed on the stem of a rose

 

Today is the day I’ll marry

And he didn’t forget a rose

It is in my wedding bouquet

With the yellow ribbons and bows

 

Today I gave birth to a son

And he’s perfect from head to toes

He pinned to the baby’s blanket

The most beautiful fragrant rose

 

This is my eightieth birthday           

As always, he gave me a rose

But I doubt there’ll be another

For I feel my life’s near a close

 

               ~ ~ ~

 

She’d be eighty-one today, he wrote

She left me in April, last year

I planted a bush by her headstone

So she’ll always have roses near

 

9/10/90 – Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

 

3’rd … PAW (in Pa) 1990

2’nd … Indiana NPD 1995

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      INCHING ALONG

 

What is it that you measure,

Little “inch worm” on my vine?

You seem to have a purpose

On this massive bush of mine.

 

You’ve traveled down a tree trunk

But you don’t seem fatigued,

For your pace never lessens,

And that has me intrigued.

 

Are you mapping out a journey

Where my flower garden grows,

Or headed for a dinner

In a lovely nectared rose?

 

I watch in fascination

At your undulating crawl,

As you inch on up and over

My little garden wall.

 

I know I should destroy you

Before offspring’s on the way,

But you’ve worked so hard to get here

I’m going to let you stay.

 

6/21/95          Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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Rescued

          RESCUED

 

I saw a cat approach you

As  you fluttered on the ground

Prepared to pounce upon you

Without the slightest sound 

 

I hurried to your rescue

And got there just in time

To save you from an early death

While you are in your prime

 

Then I took you to my garden

Where a flowered bush grows

And there you sipped the nectar

From the center of a rose

 

Then you basked in golden sunshine                 

And dried your dew-damp wings

While I enjoyed the beauty

That a butterfly brings

 

1/20/01 – Phyliis DeWitt VanVleck

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The Proposal

        THE PROPOSAL

 

”Will you marry me?” he asked,

As he handed me a rose.

I was very touched by his request,

That it was me he chose.

 

He looks quite dashing in his jeans

And jaunty western vest.

The rakish angle of his hat,

Speaks, cowboy at his best

 

His hair is blond and blessed with curls.

His eyes are denim blue.

And when he turns his charm on me,

There’s nothing I can do.

 

I must admit I am impressed,

By his somewhat flirty smile.

And I love the twinkle in his eyes,

And, yes, his carefree style.

 

Yet, I told him that I could not wed

But I’d love him evermore,

For I am turning fifty-six,

And he is only four.

 

11/25/1997 –  Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

 

10’th … N F S P S  – 2002

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