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About This Author
I'm a grandmother, a nursing educator, an avid knitter and an aspiring writer. I created this page for family and friends who expressed interest in reading my writing. It is mostly poetry with a few short stories sprinkled here and there .
The poem on this page is one my Mom favored. The collectible trinket is from a needlework picture of Longfellow's home she completed. Mom loved poetry and was an avid reader. She and my brother,Rasputin
, inspire me still.
I have a published form modification called the Rondel Grand Modified; it is located here:
Drop me a note by clicking on the "Contact Me" link above and let me know you stopped to visit.
Happy reading and write on!
Poetic Tides Through Time
#906704 added March 31, 2017 at 9:28pm
|I ain't afraid uv snakes or toads, or bugs, or worms, or
An' things 'at girls are skeered uv I think are awful nice!
I'm pretty brave, I guess; an' yet I hate to go to bed,
For, when I'm tucked up warm an' snug an' when my
prayers are said,
Mother tells me "Happy Dreams!" an' takes away the light
An' leaves me lying' all alone an' seein' things at night!
Sometimes they're in the corner, sometimes they're [by the door]
Sometimes they're all a-standin' in the middle uv the floor
Sometimes they are a sitting' down, sometimes
So softly and so creeyplike they never make a sound
Sometimes they are as black as ink, an' other times they're
But the color ain't no difference when you see things at
Once when I licked a feller 'at had just moved on our street,
An' father sent me up to bed without a bite to eat,
I woke up in the dark an' saw things standing' in a row,
A-lookin' at me cross-eyed an' p'intin' at me - so!
Oh, my! I wiz so suckered that time I never slep a'mite-
It's almost all when I'm bad I see things at night!
Lucky thing I ain't a girl, or I'd be steered to death!
Bein' I'm a boy, I duck my head an' hold my breath;
An' I am, oh, so sorry I'm a naughty boy, an' then
I promise to be better an' I say my prayers again!
Gran'ma tells me that's the only way to make it right
When a feller has been wicked an' sees things at night!
An' so, when other naughty boys would coax me into sin,
I try to skwush the Tempter's voice 'at urges me within;
An' when they's pie for supper, or cakes 'at's big an' nice,
I want to- but I do not pass my plate f'r them things
No, rather let Starvation wipe me slowly out o' sight
Than I should keep a-livin' on an' seein' things at night!
Eugene Field [1850-1895]
From: The Home Book of Verse by Burton Egbert Stevenson, 1917, pg. 172-173
Day 9- "Seein' Things" reminds me totally of my brother - ok, and me sometimes too as a child! I love the use of child-like language throughout this poem and the false bravado suggested - "Lucky thing I ain't a girl...". Field gives a glimpse into life in 19th century America through this fun piece!
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