Dad, Poetry and Memories

My dad was an avid reader and a lover of poetry, especially that of the inspirational and the whimsical types. He collected verses and kept a scrapbook of his favorites. This was a fixture in Dad's study and my sisters and I all liked to pore through its pages. My sister Ilene chose this book as a memento and the item she most wanted from Dad's home after he went Home to his heavenly Father. She made copies of the book for her sister and me. Dad often quoted illustrative verses from the pulpit.

In addition to the scrapbook, though, there are many clippings of poems and his own writings in the file folders I have in my possession. Occasionally I go through some of these folders. I may not live long enough to process them all.

Here are a couple examples of the sort of thing he found appealing.

A LITTLE PARTY

I had a little party this afternoon

at three, "Twas very small,

Three guests in all, Just I, Myself

and Me.

Myself ate up the sandwiches, And

I drank up the tea, and it was I who

ate the pie and passed the cake to me.

--Jessica Nelson North

1891 – 1988

THE GARDEN

Count your garden by flowers

Never by leaves that fall,

Count your days by golden hours

Don't remember clouds at all.

Count your nights by stars, not shadows,

Count your life with smiles, not tears,

And with Joy on every birthday, count

Your age by friends, not years.

--Author Unknown