Hi everyone,
While rearranging some files I stopped to read these two poems by my mother. Our family had no idea she wrote poetry until she was in her nineties and casually asked one day if I would like to read her poems.
My sister Jule worked for a printer at the time so she pulled Mom’s poems together and presented everyone in the family with a booklet of poems by L. Neva Harrison. Mom carried her copy in her walker to show friends at Montclair, where she was living then. These two poems are about me. Jule hadn’t come on the scene yet.
MAGIC
Dirty fingerprints
On the icebox door,
Muddy little footprints
Across the kitchen floor,
Sticky drops of jelly,
Scattered cookie crumbs,
Clues to refreshments
Taken on the run,
He may be fighting dragons,
Rounding up a spy,
He may be mighty Superman
Flying through the sky,
Could be he’s a cowboy
Handy with a gun
Keeping cattle rustlers
Always on the run,
Might be he’s outwitting
Giants that he meets,
Maybe he’s a wizard
Performing magic feats,
No time to wash his hands,
No time to wipe his feet,
No time to get a plate,
Only time to eat,
Today’s the same as yesterday
And the day before,
Fingerprints on the icebox,
Footprints on the floor.
(c) 2005 by L. Neva Harrison, all rights reserved
CONTENTMENT
Straw hat,
Cane pole,
Can of bait,
Fishing hole.
Sunny day,
Lazy stream,
Place to rest,
Dream to dream.
Light heart,
Whistle of joy,
Perfect day,
Happy boy.
(c) 2005 by L. Neva Harrison, all rights reserved
Take a bow, Mom. And thanks!
