Posts Tagged ‘treasures’


Sleepy maple trees

dropping crisp scarlet treasures

fall’s jeweled carpet

12/11/99 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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Lesson Learned


Each time Bengy went to town
He stole something small
He thought he was quite clever
But that isn’t all . . .

He’d say, “It doesn’t matter
Because everyone knows
The store won’t even miss it
Since they have lots of those”

But Bengy learned a lesson
And I’m sure he learned it well
For someone finally stole from him
And you should have heard him yell

You see, he had some treasures
(A model car collection)
And it took much time and money
For each prized selection

But someone just like Bengy
With the same point of view
Said, “He has so many small cars
He won’t miss a few”

So he stole some favored models
Which Bengy thought a sin
He thought it mean and quite unfair
That someone stole from him

Then Bengy remembered wise words
He’d heard from his mother
That it’s always wrong to take things
That belong to another

So he promised he would nurture
Those seeds his Mom had sown
And never again as years passed by
Take what was not his own

4/13/81 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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Just a little piece of art work

Consisting of one page,

Made with love by little hands

And faded now from age.

It’s a heart in sketchy contour

Trimmed with bits of lace,

And the words, “I Luv Yu, Mommie.”

Are crayoned on its face.

It hung upon the wall for years

Where it was viewed each day,

But now it’s in a small box

That I have tucked away.

A box that holds the treasures

Made throughout the years —

A daughter’s tokens to her Mom,

That prompt nostalgic tears.

And now there hangs upon the wall

A heart with crimson shine,

That says, “I love you Gram and Gramps” —

Her daughter’s valentine.


2/10/93            Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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She carried the box everywhere,

tied shut with soiled string.

The items held within its frame,

to her, meant everything.

It was full of priceless treasures

she’d found on nature quests:

such as small colorful pebbles,

and eggs from fallen nests,

some catkins from a willow branch,

fall leaves she’d pressed with care,

some tiny iridescent shells

and glossy corn-silk hair,

a hummingbird’s exquisite nest

she’d found at season’s end,

the spiraled tendril from a vine

with ornamental bend,

a stone shaped like a tiny bear,

some silky milkweed down,

a piece of pungent dark green moss,

and a small acorn crown,

fragile monarch butterfly wings,

and feathers of bright hue,

some tiny aromatic seeds,

and flower petals, too.


When asked about the things within,

the child was quick to say,

“The world is in this little box,

I see it everyday.

The contents that I treasure here,

are the greatest to be found.

They’re pieces of the universe

of touch and sight and sound.”


“I see the leaves of summertime

and fall’s golden brown.

I even see leaves lose their grip

and twirl as they float down.

I see milkweed pods opening,

and many birds in flight.

I see a nest of pale blue eggs,

and a horned owl at night.

Inside I hear a running stream

and breezes kissing trees.

I see a rainbow’s lovely arch,

and yellow bumblebees.

I see gently swaying corn-stalks

and flowers everywhere.

I see butterflies in sunlight.

flitting here and there.”


“The sky is mirrored in this box.

The earth is present, too.

If viewed with seeing heart and soul,

the world’s revealed to you.

I look inside this box each day

and touching each small thing,

I’m humbled at the beauty

that memory can bring.

I chose these things with utmost care,

researching day and night,

and memorized the way they looked —

before I lost my sight.


4/10/91        Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck


3’rd … Arkansas NPD 1997

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