Chuck Mistretta's Poetry Page
THERE WAS AN OLD LADY
WHO LIVED IN A FROCK
SHE HAD SO MANY CHILDREN
SHE DID NOT HAVE STOCK
NOT STOCK DID SHE TAKE
FOR THE FROCK IT WAS FREE
NOR CHILDREN WERE SENT
FAR AWAY FROM THEE
BUT ONCE THERE DID HAPPEN
A GENTLEMEN MAN
WHO GAVE A KIND WORD
WHO HAD A SLIGHT HAND
HIS NAME SHE BELIEVED
WAS HIGH ON THE LAND
HE GAVE NOT CHILDREN
BUT STOCK FROM HIS HAND
ALL WAS WELL FOR A WHILE
IN MANY DAYS COME
UNTIL THE MAN SEWED AWAY
ALL HE HAD BRUNG
HOW THE OLD LADY SAD
IS GIVEN FOR FREE
CHILDREN FROM STOCK
FOR GENTLEMEN TO SEE
THE PLANTED SEED FLOURISHES
NOT FOR YOU AND ME
BUT FOR THOSE WHO BRING STOCK
TO THE OLD, THE CHILDREN, AND THEE.
JUNE 27, 1980 TAMPA FLORIDA
A poem from an early blog entry This one is probably repeated, but heritage deserves to be reintroduced The picture shows my grandparents and the youngest is my mother Poetry is my way of understanding what was never taught or appreciated until the words hit the page
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