Before blogging and word processors, there were those who put pen to paper to create poetry and prose. My Aunt Eloise was one of those people and I am pleased she gave me permission to share some of her work with readers on the world-wide web:
LET US SEE OURSELVES BEFORE WE CRITICIZE
A tiny little seed one day, lay by the garden gate.
He knew not yet what sort he was, but felt he must be great
He felt so proud, he boasted loud, to a passing little bee.
Just look at ME how smooth I am, I’m sure I’ll be a tree.
I’ll stand so tall by the garden wall, oh what a sight to see.
My branches spread beneath the sky, how lovely I must be.
I’ll stand so tall and graceful, for everyone to see.
And birds will come from miles around, to build their nests in ME.
Just look at Rose, I don’t suppose she’ll ever compare to ME.
And Violet with her faded dress, how she must envy ME.
Iris looks so pale and wan, not very nice at all.
And Mrs. Morning Glory, I’m sure she’s going to fall.
Just look at lazy Susan and Pansy’s stems so small.
There’s Daisy, Oh what tiny blooms, and Fern with none at all.
And Lily with your shapeless bloom, I’m glad I’m not like you.
That awful Mrs. Blue Bell, I never cared for blue.
I wouldn’t be like Aster, or silly Daffodil.
I’d hate to be like Marigold, or Goldenrod, or Kale.
I wouldn’t be like Ivy, I don’t like her at all.
Well everyone can’t be like ME a lovely tree so tall.
I’m starting now to grow I see, soon everyone will see.
I’m growing fast, they’ll see at last, how lovely I will be.
But as he grew, at last he knew, this boastful little seed.
ALAS, ALAS – To his surprise, he found HE was a weed.
Written by Vernie Eloise Hill ——-
all rights reserved
All ownership rights belong to immediate heirs of Vernie Eloise Hill.