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miah
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4 May 2011 05:38 |
Thanks, all, for trying for "Does anyone know the genealogy poem about regretting not having listened to the mother's stories of relatives as mom has now died and those stories can't be recalled, or something to that effect? Thanks" but so far no one has gotten it : (
Here's a genealogy poem I like -- Beatitudes Of A Family Genealogist
Blessed are the great-grandmothers, who hoarded newspaper clippings and old letters, For they telll the story of their time. Blessed are all grandfathers who filed every legal document, For this provides proof. Blessed are grandmothers who preserved family Bibles and diaries, For this is our heritage. Blessed are fathers who elect officials that answer letters of inquiry, For--some--they are the only link to the past. Blessed are mothers who relate family traditions and legends to the family, For one of her children will surely remember. Blessed are the relatives who fill in family sheets with extra data, For them we owe the family history. Blessed is any family whose members strive for the preservation of records, For theirs is a labor of love. Blessed are the children who will never say, "Grandma, you have told that old story twice today."
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miah
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4 May 2011 05:44 |
oh me, the following poem is Very Much Like the one I'm looking for,but not quite it as the one I'm looking for has the daughter wishing she'd listened while at her mother's knee; same idea but a different overall feeling. picky, picky, picky, I know.
If I'd only listened To Mama while at her knee, As she talked and told old-time stories Of things and people as they used to be.
If I'd only listened; But I thought the age-old stories were a bore. All those names, dates, and tales, Some how, I managed to ignore.
If I'd only listened As Mama told how things were then; Or had her to re-tell The stories and tales again and again.
If I'd only listened, Questioned, and asked her About her Grandpap, Granny, and others As to When? What? and Where?
If I'd only listened; Her wealth of information I would now treasure As I'd have abundant family documentation.
If I'd only listened to Mama; But it's now too late! So, I'll just record on paper the facts I know and to the Historic Society donate.
Author: Edith Bastin
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SpanishEyes
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4 May 2011 07:42 |
Jeremiawasabulldog, I am going to shorten this name, I am exhausted after I have written it...only joking!
Really enjoyed reading your entries, especially the first one because when my mother died I found many records, notes etc which hsve helped me so much. These included one which even now brings tears to my eyes so I may add it as a story rather than trying to write poetry. I have many very old original marriage and birth certs,
I may print or copy the second one and give to my children! They think I spend too much time looking for the deceased! !
I shall brouse through my sayings book today to see if I can be tempted to post one or two
Take care everyone
Nearly forgot to say congratulations on reading page 17 for us. I wonder if we will ever get to page 20 ?
08.45hrs Spain ,
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SpanishEyes
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4 May 2011 07:44 |
Sorry, that should read reaching page 17, not reading page 17. Must go and have a coffee!
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Greenfingers
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4 May 2011 14:10 |
liked this one
Strangers in the Box
Come, look with me inside this drawer, In this box I've often seen All the pictures, black and white, Faces proud,still serene. I wish I knew the people, These strangers in the box, Their names and all their memories Are lost among my socks. I wonder what their lives were like, How did they spend their days ? What about their special times ? I'll never know their ways. If only someone had taken their time To tell who,what,where, or when, Those faces of my heritage Would come to life again. Could this become the fate Of the pictures we take today ? The faces and the memories Someday to be passed away ? Make time to save your stories, Seize the opportunity when it knocks, Or someday you and yours could be The strangers in the box
Anon
I bet we all know of a box like this !!!
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SpanishEyes
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4 May 2011 17:28 |
I really like this and may print it of to go on the outer page of My "History and Life", book which I am putting together.
I haven't had time to day to look on here as have been doing someinvestigation on Ancestry
18.28 hrs Spain
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miah
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4 May 2011 19:02 |
Strangers in the Box is © 1997 by Pamela A. Harazim. To me, that poem says it all regarding each of us writing our own story and the stories and memories we have of those who have passed on. And perhaps those around us who refuse to put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. A Fantastic Poem!
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MissFitz
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4 May 2011 22:46 |
Great poem Greenfingers
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Greenfingers
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5 May 2011 08:51 |
Yes it is I can't remember half the names on my school photos and wish I had written them on the back !
8.50 am Norfolk UK
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SpanishEyes
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5 May 2011 12:17 |
Green fingers ,have you tried Friends reunited.I did a couple of years ago and found several friends from school,it was/is great fun?
I am somewhat surprised that the view on here fas changed.down the right hand side is a box attached to each entry and it shows when the person sending the message because member and how many posts they have made.
There are also at the bottom of the page showing emotions.......When did this start,I do not recall seeing it before
13.16hrs Spain
Jeramiahbulldog, thank you for such a delightful reply to Greenfingers,I am looking forward to your next poem or saying.
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miah
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5 May 2011 18:32 |
Well, I'll share a poem now that I really should wait a bit to share.... We live on an island and our house is for sale. When it sells, we will be living 3 hours from the ocean; a sad, sad location for me. So this dear poem by John Masefield - a favorite from my youth is already on my mind --
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by, And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking, And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
Oh, me, my eyes are misting over ...
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Greenfingers
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8 May 2011 10:46 |
I love that poem too Miah, always reminds me of lovely family holidays.
Here are two Summer sayings
James Dent said A perfect Summers day, is the sun shining, the breeze blowing , the birds singing and the lawn mower broken !
Anton Chekov said People don't notice whether it is Spring or Summer when they're happy
How true both of these are !
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SpanishEyes
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8 May 2011 12:14 |
OH Mia, I would be devasted if I could not live either by the sea or a vast expanse of water. Where are you moving to? I think I fell in love with poetry because of this poem, surley no-one could ever dislike this.
I have been askled to find a poem about old age for a friend whoo is doing a special course for her work. Now she has the Purple hat one so any suggestions would be welcome. as from next Ttuesday afternoon I will not be at home, going to Army son in Winchester for his church blessing of marriage..We will be away for about 8 days so please keep this thread "Live"
Many thanks
13.14 hrs Spain
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SpanishEyes
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8 May 2011 13:20 |
Another poem about growing old
There is no person lonelier, Than he who lies in bed, And must depend on others, To be comfortable and fed, Who never has a visitor, To talk to him and smile, And make the life he has to live, A little more worthwhile.
He does not ask for magazines, For candy, fruit, and such, But just a friendly visit and The words that mean so much.
He wants to see the sun come out, In place of all the rain, And know that someone cares about, His trouble and his pain. And surely somewhere out of all The moments made for play There must be time to call on him, And say hello today.
I am going to send this to a former colleague who is going to do some new training to improve her staus, and working experience. I hope you like this as well
14.19hrs Spain
:-)
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LilyL
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9 May 2011 08:55 |
Mau, your poem 'Forever' bought tears to my eyes, my mother died in 1986 and I still, after all these years, miss her companionship, laughter and wisdom. I now have three beautiful grandchildren who are gorgeous, but even they don't fill that particular gap. Spanish Eyes, I worked with elderly people for many years so your poem hit a particular nerve as all too often it is very true that old people spend a lot of time on their own, as familes are 'Too Busy' or 'Too Far Away' to visit. Very Sad!
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LilyL
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11 May 2011 09:12 |
I expect you all know this one, but I'll post it anyway!!
THE DONKEY by G.K Chesterton.
When fishes flew and forests walked And figs grew upon thorn, Some moment when the moon was blood Then surely was I born;
With monstrous head and sickening cry and ears like errant wings, The devils walking parody On all four footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth, of ancient crooked will; Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb, I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour; One far fierce hour and sweet: There was a shout about my ears And palms before my feet.
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MissFitz
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13 May 2011 12:48 |
THREE OLD RHYMES
THE WISH
Oh that I were where I would be! Then should I be where I am not; But where I am, There I must be, And where I would be I can not.
IF
If all the world was apple-pie And all the sea was ink, And all the trees were bread and cheese, What should we do for drink ? It's enough to make an old man Scratch his head and think.
A CANDLE BURNING
Little Nan Etticoat In a white petticoat And a Red Nose The Longer she stands The shorter she grows
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Rita
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14 May 2011 11:46 |
Here are two quotes
The Human mind is like an umbrella It functions best when open.
A German architec.
2nd one
God gives us the ingredients for our daily bread But he expects us to do the baking.
an american writer.
Rita
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Greenfingers
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14 May 2011 13:16 |
A Life with love is like a year without summer
Swedish Proverb
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Greenfingers
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17 May 2011 18:37 |
In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle light In summer quite the other way I have too go to bed by day
I have to go to bed and see The birds still hopping on the tree Or hear the grown up peoples feet Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you When all the skiy is clear and blue When I should like so much to play Not have to go to bed by day?
R.L.Stevenson
How right as a child you always feel like this
Dorothy Parker also said
Summer makes me drowsy, Autumn makes me sing, Winters pretty lousy, but how I hate spring !
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