All poems contained on this page were
written by and are the property
of Betty Lee
Sally's Friend
Lonely little Sally oft sat in the window
Wishing she was bigger, a lot bigger, so
That she could join the other kids at play,
Instead of watching, like she did every day.
"But every time I ask, they just laugh at me;
The other kids up the street are too small
for me
The big kids say that I'm too little to jump
rope."
So there she sat, all alone, with very little
hope,
"I wish there was someone around just the size
of me
So I wouldn't always be so awfully, awfully
lonely.
I need someone to share my dolls and my little
dishes,
Someone who would like to hear all my secret
wishes."
Many, many lonely hours little Sal did spend.
It seemed as if she'd never, ever have a friend,
But then one day, her daddy bought a puppy
for her.
Her loneliness was soon replaced by a little
ball of fur.
She spent many, many weeks teaching Muff to
mind.
All the hours of emptiness were soon left
far behind.
Soon they were inseparable, this funny little
pair,
Muff with her honey coat, Sal with her golden
hair.
They even slept together in little Sally's
bed,
The pup next to her feet, way down beneath
the spread.
Muff has long since gone, her life came to
an end,
But Sal remembers vividly her furry little
friend.
circa 1957
He Didn't Say Good-bye
He called me on the telephone,
said he'd be a while coming home.
I said," O.K., but don't be too late."
He said, "I won't; I have a date."
A half hour later the news was spread.
He had been wounded in the head.
Two hours later his life had ceased
For the bullet his brain had creased.
He left without saying good-bye.
Why? Why did he have to die?
Nov. 10, 1958
Dedicated to Hal, not just my big brother,
but my idol.
Dec. 26, 1935 - Nov. 6, 1958
Brother, I shall always remember you dearly,
as long as I have a mind.
Thank you for that long talk we had that last
morning as you drove me to school.
Your words shall never be forgotten; I kept my promise to you,
as I'm sure you know. Love you always and forever.
A Teens Thoughts On Aging
When I am passing the years away
And see my children going their way.
When my children have their mates
And their children are going on dates,
When my hair's all turned to grey,
I'll be wishing that youth could stay.
For, I fear Old Man Time, you see,
I've seen what he could do to me.
Today my life is very fine and good.
I can walk upright, as people should.
I can see the stars above and silvery moon;
I can hear singing birds and the cry of the
loon.
Today my life is fine and good, oh yes!
What about tomorrow ? I can only guess.
circa 1962
Night Questions
Alone in the night, she often lies in their
bed
The covers pulled up all the way to her head.
She lies there and wonders about things gone
by.
She can't understand the how or the why.
What happened to them along life's trail?
Just what did she do Just where did she fail?
Where on earth can she put all of the blame?
Why can't love always be just the same?
The covers she ruffles up, the bed rearranges.
What ever happened to bring about changes?
All through these years, she's been his wife.
They've struggled and toiled to overcome strife.
They've been through joy and through sorrow.
Is there, for them, any real hope for tomorrow?
Where's all the feeling that they used to
share?
Why can't they show that they really still
care?
The feelings that they used to show for each
other
Like a great fire, now have begun to smother.
Can they ever go back to where they were long
ago?
She wonders and questions but she really doesn't
know.
Is it something she did or something she said?
Again she starts tossing about in their bed.
He lies there sleeping, unaware of her feeling,
While she lies there and stares at the ceiling.
Does he still feel the way that he used to?
Sometimes his answer just doesn't come through.
Have they taken each other too much for granted?
Have the seeds of indifference in them been
planted?
Is there anything left that can make it okay?
Or will they just drift on from day to day?
What can she do to make him care once again,
The way that he used to way back then?
What can she do to bring out his desire?
Can she ever go back and relight his fire?
If he's glad she's his wife, as oft he's said,
Then why doesn't he show her, here in their
bed?
Why can't their bodies agree with their minds?
What is there back there that they left behind?
Have they grown too fond, like an old pair
of shoes?
Or is it, perhaps, they've outgrown their
youths?
circa 1975
An Adult Student Questions
What am I doing here with all these young sprouts,
Lugging around schoolbooks,working math problems
out,
Sitting through long lectures,taking notes
along the way
Hoping I can remember what was said yesterday,
Rushing from class to class trying to get
straight "A"s,
Pushing myself to the limit, isn't there a
better way?
How do these kids stand it, this running forth
and back,
Trying to earn a sheepskin, filling credits
that they lack?
What can I prove to myself that I didn't know
before?
Except that sitting here all day sure makes
my backside sore!
circa 1984
Open Letter to Jim
Dear Jim,
You don't really know me,
but we met at the doctor's office today.
I could tell from your voice you were nervous,
though you pretended to be gay.
We had quite a talk while we sat in the dark,
waiting for our eyes to dilate.
We laughed about the gurgling plumbing
and other things during our long wait.
Then the doctor called you into the next room
and I sat there all alone.
I heard him tell you he had no miracles
for your eyesight, and then a groan.
I hadn't meant to listen to what he said,
but both doors were open wide.
I wished then I knew you so you could lean
on me.
I just sat and cried.
No, Jim, I don't know you, though
I've seen you before, some place, long ago.
It's strange how easily we talked
to each other though your last name I don't
know
But I could tell that you're a nice guy
from the way you talked to me today.
Our relationship was brief and casual,
but Jim, I pray that miracle comes your way!
circa 1975
A Survivor
(a cinquain)
The world
tried to break me;
it pushed and shoved like hell,
but, I am much like tempered steel,
unbent.
circa 1984
Memory
It happened long ago, so the calender says,
But it happened yesterday according to my
memory.
Why is it I can't remember what was said last
week,
But I can clearly recall every detail of that
night?
Why is it that terror is stored in indelible
ink,
But happiness is often written with number
three graphite?
Where is the rationality to this system of
recording
The historical data of one's life?
It makes no sense to me that pain is etched
in stone
In the memory banks of my cerebral files,
But the pleasurable times must be searched
for
And grasped piecemeal
Then reassembled like a jig-saw puzzle.
Why is it the human computer is selective
this way
And does not give mankind parallel retrospection?
For if we had the capacity to recall all data
equally,
We might discover that one piece is insignificant
to the whole,
That when we tallied up the good and subtracted
the vile,
We might find that our lives have been far
richer than we recall.
circa 1985
Visions of a Child
(a cinquain)
Reddish
hair and brown eyes,
a radiant smile and
tiny hugs, I remember so
fondly.
circa 1984
On Meeting Calvin Cool in
the Coffee Shop
Something bumped my arm as I waited in line,
and
a
strange
sensation
ran
down
my
spine.
As I turned and saw you at my elbow,
I poured scalding coffee on my frozen feet.
Inhalation halted mid-cycle,
goosebump crowded goosebump.
Sinews stiffened.
My heart skipped a beat.
Saline beads squeezed from pores like juice
from a lemon.
My knees knocked like shutters in the wind.
Suppressed memories came flooding into view,
vivid visions of that night when you
left
handprints on my body,
rips in my clothes
and scars on my mind.
You bastard!
You cold, calculating, clever, perverted reptile!
I wish you well,
a
very
deep
one,
and
may
your
organ
rot
in
Hell!
circa 1983
Remember Halloween Night
Hark ! Hark ! Hear the dogs barking.
Hear the hooties high in the trees.
See the black cat scampering by.
Feel the quiver in your knees.
See the pumpkins in the windows.
Hear the creaking close behind.
Feel your heart begin to race
As you get scared out of your mind.
Smell the ripe apples in your bag
And the popcorn and the candy.
Remember the garb you wore
When you were a dapper dandy.
See the witches in the moonlight
And webs made by a spider.
Remember the smell of the donuts,
The taste of fresh apple cider,
The sheet that changed your sis
Into a most ghastly sight,
And burned cork smeared on faces.
Hark ! Remember Halloween night!
circa 1973
Birthdays
Birthdays come and birthdays go.
You have but one each year,
And for that fact you should be
Glad and give a great big cheer!
For if you had two cakes each year
They'd soon add up, like gold.
They'd weigh upon your hips
And you'd be twice as old!
circa 1976
The La Cross Story
It was right around Christmas in 1951
That the whole La Cross story was begun,
When a fellow named Le Roy took a wife.
He chose a real "Honey" to share his life.
They started out a pair on Delaware Street.
Then the next year came a babe so sweet.
Denise, she was christened, and to their joy
Next thing they knew they expected a boy.
They moved to Broad Street, number one-hundred-nine
Where diapers continued to fill the clothesline.
After Louie came Sharon and Ella Rose too.
Then along came Belinda. who was nicknamed
Boo-Boo.
The apartment grew crowded; it was too small,
So, they bought the house; they needed it
all!
Next the twins, Harriet and Harold came.
Then a darling young lady called Lorraine.
Now wait a minute, let's not cheat her!
Go back one babe and add charming Peter.
Melissa was their next gift from heaven.
Then Tina brought the total up to eleven.
In the meantime, Sharon married Tom Brown;
They now have little Ben and Brian around.
In '74 Denise and Jim Grimmer were wed.
Now Ella's engaged to a nice guy named Ed.
There have been cuts and bruises and falls,
Broken bones and illnesses by them all.
But amidst all the troubles, you can see,
There has been a lot of laughter and glee.
The story is complete now,(well up to this
date)
But subject to change by the other eight.
It's twenty-five years since the start of
all this,
And to think it all started
with just one kiss!
December 26,1976
A Mother's Memories
(a cinquain)
Growth marks
on closet doors,
staples in bedroom walls,
the signs of children everywhere,
now gone.
circa 1984
Please sign my dreambook, so I know you dropped
by to visit.
Thank you for visiting with us, and come back
again soon.
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Background made from an owl graphic sent to me by
a House Of Love And Support sister-friend, Pammie B.
copyright
1997-2005 by Betty Lee, Glens Falls, NY