(Poem) - For Jimmy and Me

(As a child, our mom, Marie W, Sperry Powell memorized this for a Christmas program.)

For Jimmy and Me

'Twas Christmas Eve and a mother sat

Close by the fireside there.

She was youthful still, but her beautiful face

Was marked with lines of care.

"I never knew" she whispered low

"That a Christmas cold be so dark!"

And she sobbingly pressed a little brown shoe

Close to her aching heart.

As she rocked to and fro still thinking

Of that beautiful Christmas before,

Suddenly, out of the stillness came

A timid knock at the door.

And there stood a ragged urchin,

Tired and pale and thin.

"I'm tired of looking for Mamma.

Say, couldn't you let me in?"

"I've been alone since the morning.

I don't know what it's about.

They say my mamma's in heaven,

But I saw them carry her out.

I sat awhile on the doorstep.

I thought maybe they'd come back for me.

Until I got tired an' lonesome,

And hungry an 'cold as can be."

"An' that man with the big gold buttons

Told me to "move along,"

But he smiled after I told him

I hadn't done anything wrong.

An' he showed me the way to your doorstep

An' said if I'd be real polite,

That perhaps you would give me some supper

An' -- an' a place to sleep tonight."

And she looked at him with compassion

And thought of her own little Jim.

"Somebody's darling" she whispered

and willingly let him in.

And after he had his supper

She tucked him away to bed,

And thought of the blessed Christ Child,

Who had no place for his head.

(Poem) Johnny Appleseed

(Note:  This poem was recited by mother when she was a little girl and one of her favorites).

Johnny Appleseed

Johnny Appleseed was a travelin' man,

Kivered his head with a cookin' plan.

Never seemed to a-bothered him none,

Trampin' them trails 'neath the blazin' sun.

He traveled this great land o' our'n

Following' his goal, never tirin'.

He flung them apple seeds far and wide.

Looked like it must a-been a thing a pride

Seein' them trees beginnin' to bear

Way off in the future somewhere.

He was a good man, so they say,

Did his work without no pay.

Lean and lank as a two by four

Walked every day 'till his feet was sore.

What'ere he had, he jes made do.

He gave no mind to his duds nor looks,

Never heard tell he wrote no books,

But I do hear tell he wuz kind and good,

Loved every creature in the whole durn wood;

Even one time when bit by a snake,

Said, "not his fault, 'twas my mistake!"

They ain't makin' 'em like him no more;

Jes look round, you'll see fer shore.

Couldn't bear to be beholden to none.

Laid down in peace when the day wuz done.

Yep, I'd a-liked to a knowed that man,

We'd a talked a spell 'bout his seedin' plan,

Where he went to get his seed,

Did he find enuff to meet his need?

Would he do it again if he had the chance

A wearin' them seven pair a pants?

What's he think 'bout the water not clean?

Mos' sad sight I bet he'd seen.

Does breathin' the air tenda make him sick?

He'd wanta leave this place right quick.

Kinda think it best he was a livin' then,

'Fore things got in the shape they's in.

(Poem) Dad

Dad     
My memories of my Dad are few
He rarely was at home to do,
So I remember what I can
Of him they called "the traveling man."
                 
He'd ride the rails and preach the word
Believing some had never heard.
God had called him to this work -
A task he felt dared not shirk.
                 
The postcards came from near and far
His picture - waving from the car,
His straw hat tipped - His suit of white
Doing what he felt was right.
                 
He's been gone for many years,
This man of sorrow - man of tears.
He died alone so far away
No family there to watch and pray.
                 
Sometimes I visit him at rest
And ponder if his choice was best.
The photos and the cards are here
All that remain from yesteryear.
                 
Dare we judge a person's life -
Even if we're child or wife?
No! God knows each person's plan,
And He's the judge of every man.

by Marie W. Powell

(Poem) A Childhood Book

A Childhood Book - Marie Powell's House

Today while I was cleaning, I found a cherished book

Which brought back childhood memories as I paused to take a look.

All the verses unfold to me; all the pictures are the same

Only I have grown much older and have changed in looks and name.

Dear old book of childhood, you make me dream of many things;

A trip to a far off land of pirates, castles, kings ...

You helped me see the beauty of familiar nearby things,

The picture by the fireside, the colors of the flower,

The vastness of the oceans, the magic of the showers,

The sweetness of the bird songs, the distance of the skies,

The coming of the springtime, the glory of the sunrise.

I'll close your cover gently and lay you here in sight.

Hoping other hands still clasp you, when our girls come home tonight.

May your lines inspire children; help them wondrous things to see.

Take them to the land of dreaming, as dear book you once took me.

by Marie W. Powell

(Poem) The Hidden Walk

The Hidden Walk

While digging in the garden

Beside the Iris row,

The spade would go no deeper,

Something hard below.

A garden walk came into view,

Long buried under sod.

As I uncovered brick by brick,

My thoughts turned to our God.

changes come with the years;

We're not as once we were,

But now and then as we press on

Old memories we stir.

As the old walk was put to use,

Our past has served us well.

He's walked beside us all the way

And who of us can tell?

Perhaps a friend can glimpse beneath

The changes of the years,

The way we were so long ago,

Unshaped by joys and tears.

by Marie W. Powell

(Poem) Neighbors

Neighbors

Today our neighbor moved away. We will miss them very much.

Although we didn't often say, they were fine people, such.

We shouted forth across the yards. Told good news and bad.

Will not forget their little son when he was just a lad.

Our children played and quarreled. And grew. Then started off to school.

The men have shouted back and forth to lend a needed tool.

We've planted flowers and watched them bloom; and trees and saw them grow,

Never thinking of the time when one of us would go.

Today our neighbors moved away. We saw the sign, "For Sale."

Each time we look across the street, the house will tell a tale.

by Marie W. Powell

(Poem) Family Reunion

Family Reunion

The kin folks come from near and far

by motor home, by plane or car.

We greet each one with hug and kiss.

Those who are gone, we sorely miss.

We love to hear those tales of yore,

we've heard so many times before.

As we recall the years gone by,

the memories make us laugh or cry.

New babies are a joy to see.

How can old folks include me?

by Marie W. Powell

(Poem) The Class of '44 - by Marie W. Powell

The Class of '44

For twelve long years we've gone to school, but now, at last, we're through.

For twelve long years we've studied hard; now that is finished, too.

We've climbed the ladder rung by rung. And now we've reached the top.

And though we've wanted to get through, it's rather sad to stop.

We've learned to love old E.S.H., our alma mater dear,

And as we seniors leave our school, we wipe away a tear.

Each one will go a different way; our paths will separate.

No longer will we talk in class, throw chalk, write notes, debate;

No longer will we roam the halls, or stay in for being late.

One phase of life we've ended; a new one soon we'll begin.

One door shall close behind us; another we'll enter in.

So long dearest E.S.H.; farewell for evermore.

We must be on our merry way, for life has much in store.

Thanks to you for everything.

From the class of '44.

by Marie Washington Powell

Class of 1944

Eureka Springs High School

Eureka Springs, Arkansas

(Poem) Little Brown Dog - by Marie W. Powell

Little Brown Dog

"Ode to a long, low-slung brown Dachshund Dog"

~~~~

Little brown dog, so long and low,

You're underfoot, where-ere we go.

You smell as if you need a bath.

You bark at all who cross your path.

At night, you snore while in your bed.

When we dine, you too want fed.

Little brown dog, so long and low.

Why is it that we love you so?

by Marie W. Powell

(Poem) Half a Century

Half a Century - Can it Be Since Graduation Day?

Half a century - can it be since graduation day?

So many stories we could tell

Of life and love, of work and play.

Our teachers were a special lot.

The things they taught have served us well.

Oh years of youth, where have you gone?

I see that you have passed us by.

So soon we're old

How can it be?

Where's the girl I used to be?

They've hurried by, those restless years

So filled with joys, as well as tears.

The birds send forth their songs of praise --

God's wonders he's bestowing.

To think He planned it all for me --

So long before my birth.

The skies, the seas, the plants and trees --

All things that make the earth.

I thank you, God, for everything --

Such joy to all of life you bring.

by Marie W. Powell

(Poem) My Child

My Child

My child, I watched you as you grew,

But all the time of course I knew,

Someday you'd have to try your wings,

And fly away to other things.

Those special times we used to share;

Your slippered feet and ribboned hair,

Your face aglow

I loved you so!

The years have passed, you're fully grown

Yes, you have children of your own.

No matter! You will always be

A darling little girl to me!

Each year I watched you as you grew,

and all the while of course I knew

So soon you'd need to spread your wings

and fly away to other things.

From baby days to toddler days -

Then bikes and skates -

Then books and boys till now -

Indeed you've tried those wings

and flown away to other things.

by Marie W. Powell

(Poem) Fifty Years Has Come and Gone

Fifty Years Have Come and Gone

Fifty years have come and gone since first we said "I do."

I was only seventeen, and he was twenty-two.

He's been away for many months,

Had served his country well.

I had planned to be a nurse

But love had cast its spell.

My nursing roommate knew his friend,

And so we chanced to meet.

She introduced me to this "guy"

Who swept me off my feet.

It was a lovely golden fall,

Bright sun on every leaf.

We walked and talked and dreamed our dreams.

Our courtship was so brief.

He said if you will be my wife,

You'll be my private nurse for life.

Five darling girls were sent our way.

How they've enriched our life each day.

by Marie W. Powell

(Poem) The Gift

The Gift

What did you bring me, love of mine?

A pretty lacy valentine?

A gown of silk,

A rose of red,

A downy pillow for my head,

A music box all graceful fine?

Which of these would prove you mine?

You bring to me a helping hand.

You enter in to what I've planned.

A kindly word when I am low;

You wait for me when I am slow.

When the task is hard to do,

I know I can depend on you.

What did you bring me, love of mine?

The greatest gift that one can find!

The very best of gifts, it's true --

All I'll ever want -- just you!

by Marie W. Powell

Marie to Vaughn - Valentine's Day - 1989

(Poem) Departing Summer

Departing Summer

The last days of summer --

Where did she go?

We just welcomed Springtime

A short time ago!

The days do deceive us,

So warm and so bright,

But darkness is truthful

More blankets at night!

The birds tend to gather.

Are they planning too?

As Fall makes her entrance

They know what to do.

The pool in the park

Has closed for the season;

School busses pass ...

There must be a reason.

Far off in the corn field,

We hear the crow's call.

You surely have guessed it!

Let's welcome the Fall.

by Marie W. Powell