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Surviving The Big Ones 

Step back into the good ol' days  for a little
while and walk with a young boy surviving
"The Big Ones" and on into manhood

The Big Ones Were The Great Depression
and WW II for everyone, and 1949 and
marrige and 1952 and the Army for me.



POEMS ABOUT
THE "GOOD OLD DAYS"


I Never Thought About Having A Page For Poems About
The "Good Old Days" By Guest Authors Until I Received
The First One Below By E-mail. Where Is Your Poem???



CONTENTS



MY MOTHER'S FLOWERS
Written circa late 1800.

I don't see why I shouldn't grow
Flowers like Mother did long years ago
Mothers flowers would grow and bloom
And spread about their sweet perfume
She had pinks and lilies and Iris too
She had Hollyhocks and asters blue
her lilac bush is sweet perfume
would often fill our living room.

  Her snowball bush at the garden gate
could see other flowers blooming late
And the tall sunflower with his face to side
would watch the hollyhocks play hide
and the marigold in her velvet gown
with sweet alyssum edged around
would please a king I am here to tell
If he was blessed with sense of smell

  While I think of her shrubs and many a vine
I think of her zinnias and columbine
now while we tried to name her flowers
my tears were falling like a shower
i will send to Mr. Park and see
If he has saved any seeds for me
And then I will try my best to grow
Flowers like Mother did years ago.

Contributed by Susan Bowen
(Great Great Garndaughter)

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HANGING NO MORE
by Mary Elizabeth Rumsey

Every once in a while I'll spot a clothes line
you know the two posts and wire that were once easy to find?

My mother used to wash the clothes and then hang them out to dry
but of course those are of days long gone by!

The clothes line has been replaced by an electric dryer no more do we hardly see
clothes hanging on a clothesline with two pins blowing and flapping free!

And if the sky clouded up off to the clothesline we'd head
"Hurry up hurry up" is what mama always said.

For the weather used to determine how long the clothes could hang out
but no longer since we've taken a more modern route!

From the washer to the dryer is the updated scheme
I can still see my mama hanging the clothes, not in reality, but as a past dream!

Mary Elizabeth Rumsey sent the above poem to me via E-mail after visiting one of my sites. She likes to write short stories, but she enjoys writing poetry most of all. Publishers may reach Mary at "maryrumsey@juno.com" RETURN TO TOP



LIKE GRANDMOTHER DID

by Mary Elizabeth Rumsey

things would be a lot different if we did them like grandmother did-
beginning when she was born, during the time that she was a kid!

there was not any television in which to watch all day-
if grandmother wanted entertainment she had to find it in her own way!

her imagination took her places that we've probably never gone-
such as watching the stars while lying on the lawn!

she had to use her imagination to get her through the day-
for she had no video games or computer on which to play!

life may have had less back in grandmothers childhood-
but in the long run, things were so much better from where she stood!

children were children and it was best that it stayed that way-
unlike today, childhood was simple back in grandmothers day!

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A COWBOY'S PRAYER

by Anonymous

Oh Lord, I've never lived where churches grow.
I love creation better as it stood,
That day You finished it so long ago;
And looked upon Your work and called it good.

I know that others find You in the light,
That's sifted down through tinted window panes.
And yet I seem to feel You near tonight,
In this dim, quiet starlight on the plains.

I thank You, Lord, that I am placed so well,
That You have made my freedom so complete;
That I'm no slave of whistle, clock or bell,
Nor weak-eyed prisoner of wall and street.

Just let me live my life as I've begun,
And give me work that's open to the sky;
Make me a pardner of the wind and sun,
And I won't ask a life that's soft or high.

Let me be easy on the man that's down;
Let me be square and generous with all.
I'm careless sometimes, Lord, when I'm in town,
But never let'm say I'm mean or small!

Make me as big and open as the plains,
As honest as the hoss between my knees,
Clean as the wind that blows behind the rains,
Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze!

Forgive me, Lord, if sometimes I forget,
You know about the reasons that are hid.
You understand the things that gall and fret;
You know me better than my mother did.

Just keep an eye on all that's done and said;
And right me, sometimes, when I turn aside,
And guide me on the long trail ahead
That stretches upward toward the Great Divide.

Some may argue that the above poem does not fit this page about the "Good Old Days', but if it doesn't, it should.

Corky RETURN TO TOP



A VISIT TO A COUNTRY LODGE
Adapted from a story by Carl Claudy circa 1920.

"Hey, we missed you at the Lodge meeting Brother Dowell."
"I was out in the country and attended the meeting there."
"Well, you really missed one here, the banquet was swell,
the lodge room had cut flowers and decorated with care.

Wouldn't those ol' country boys have really had a treat,
if they could see a big blow-out like ours was last night?"
"Yes, I guess they would, their Lodge was plain but neat,
but they made me open my eyes at their meeting all right.

Their Lodge is in the schoolhouse. A two stopy building,
erected by the Masonic Lodge, oh so many years before.
It's provided rent free to the school board for schooling.
The Lodge Room's up the outside stair to the upper floor."

I was told about the meeting and said I'd like to attend.
The Master took me to the butcher and I shook his hand.
The butcher called up nine others to examine me no end.
Those ten me ask questions, then answers they'd demand.

They made an event of the examination and it was tough.
They ask me from how many wives King Solomon had,
and where the Master hung his hat. It was really rough.
In which hand does the Master carry the lantern, lad?

They enjoyed themselves a lot for three hours or more.
From the moment that it ended, my status had a change.
I was treated like a prince. Welcomed at anyone's door.
Now they knew I was a Brother. I was no longer strange.

Next day, the farmers commenced coming in at daylight.
By eleven the rail fence behind the court house was full,
of gray mares with colts close by. Farmers, faces bright,
in their Sunday clothes stood around shooting the bull.

Whittling on sticks and talking 'Masonary on the square.
The most important occasion of the day come about noon.
Dinner was served by the wives, in the room up the stair.
I expected a luncheon, but it was a feast, we found soon!

Whole hams, whole turkeys with the stuffing sticking out.
and right in front of me with an apple stuck in its jaw,
a whole roasted pig, gallons of gravy and even sauerkraut
The tables had to stand cross-legged as we all soon saw,

To keep from falling down with the load that they held.
Soon a little child gathered buttons scattered like seed
under the table and the wives honor was upheld.
Well, I won't make you hungry telling about the feed.

Enough to say that we ate and talked until four o'clock.
I never had such a time in my life. They made me speak
and I told all the stopies that I had heard in Little Rock
this winter till the Master said I ought to travel in a show.

The women cleared up the place and we men went out.
We sat on the fence till six and smoked pipe and cheroot.
The Lodge meeting opened at six o'clock or thereabout.
The Master wore a slouch hat, there was not even a suit.

The Senior Warden had his hound sitting by his chair,
but, I've never seen a more beautiful Masonic opening,
or a better rendered master's degree. It was with a flair.
The degree had finished and the lecture was inspiring.

I thought the work was over, but then I saw t'wasn't all.
The Master finished all the work in the ritual, then said,
Jim, you are now a Mason. I fear it'll be years fore y'all
will really know what that means, but that's all ahead.

There isn't a man in this room, that hasn't watched you,
As you grew from a little shaver in a diaper to a man.
And every one of us watched you all through school too.
Through life, you knew you had no father, so we began.

Your father belonged to this lodge and sat in every chair.
Although you hardly remember him, every man present,
followed him to his grave and every one of us will share,
his life was spotless and square as a man's life was spent.

Jim, while we don't know much about heaven, our souls
cry out the truthfulness of the life to come, and we know
that in that great beyond your father name is on the rolls
looking down this minute and is glad, and he has a glow.

Watch your career as a man and Mason. Be confident,
and hope. He and we will watch you from now on, Jim.
He knew when you got into the habit of playing ten-cent
limit with the bunch down at the hotel and it hurt him.

In your future, Jim, try to remember he's looking down
and when there comes up a question of right and wrong,
try to think what he would do, without even a frown.
Remember, now you take the honor of our old lodge along.

The lodge where your father was Master and loved it so.
You are a man now Jim, but when you were a little one,
your daddy would take you in his arms and speaking low,
pray God would guide you in the path that you his son,

has started in tonight and partly for your daddy's sake,
partly for this old lodge, partly for our God's delight.
but mostly for your own sake, Jim. I beg you never take
a step that'll make us regret what we have done tonight."

Jim was in tears and I will admit that I was sniffing too
when that old man got through. And, I didn't even recall,
that he wasn't wearing a top hat or a tuxedo, all I did do,
was become aware, that as a true Mason he stood tall."


Lots Of Space Left For Your Poem
Please Submit Your Memories Soon.


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