THEY WERE CONTENT
IN A SAD SORT OF A WAY
THEY’D GUIDED THEIR HUSBANDS
SAFELY THROUGH THE SHOALS OF DEATH
AND BEYOND
THEY REMEMBERED THE SILLY LITTLE THINGS
LIKE
FIGHTING FOR BLANKETS
SNORING
SOCKS ON THE FLOOR
THEY WISHED THEY COULD COMPLAIN AGAIN
THE BED IS TOO LARGE
HE’S KEEP ALIVE IN THE MEMORIES OF CHILDREN
THEIR POP-POP OR POPPY
GRAMPY OR GRUMPY
THEIR BEST BUD
MOST DAYS LIFE GOES ON
BUT SOMETIMES
THEY’D LIKE TO SHARE A JOKE
AND THERE IS NO ONE TO HEAR
FRANK A VOLLMER
IN A SAD SORT OF A WAY
THEY’D GUIDED THEIR HUSBANDS
SAFELY THROUGH THE SHOALS OF DEATH
AND BEYOND
THEY REMEMBERED THE SILLY LITTLE THINGS
LIKE
FIGHTING FOR BLANKETS
SNORING
SOCKS ON THE FLOOR
THEY WISHED THEY COULD COMPLAIN AGAIN
THE BED IS TOO LARGE
HE’S KEEP ALIVE IN THE MEMORIES OF CHILDREN
THEIR POP-POP OR POPPY
GRAMPY OR GRUMPY
THEIR BEST BUD
MOST DAYS LIFE GOES ON
BUT SOMETIMES
THEY’D LIKE TO SHARE A JOKE
AND THERE IS NO ONE TO HEAR
FRANK A VOLLMER
1 comment:
this poem is about 3 sisters..all of whom love frank deeply as he is our brother...we are so proud of his work and of him.. his gentle side is so endearing to all of his family.. and to leave this legacy of his sisters is wonderful and will be cherished love you the favorite
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