The Velawesomeraptor Himself (clayrobeson) wrote,
The Velawesomeraptor Himself

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Poetry from my Great Great Great Grandfather

Abram wrote this after my Great Great Great Grandmother, Anna, died.

    The sun that shines so bright above,
    Knows naught about my wondrous love,
    The birds that sing about the house
    And in the lane
    Bring nothing to my heart
    But grief and pain
    For it is a very dismal thing
    That in my ears the birds do sing
    While my beloved Anna, she has gone,
    And left me here to weep and mourn.

    Unthinking, idle, wild and young,
    I laughed and danced and talked and sung,
    And proud of health, of freedom vain
    Dreamed naught of sorry, care or pain,
    Concluding in those hours of glee
    That all the world was made for me;
    But when the hours of trial came
    When sickness shook this trembling frame;
    When folly's gay pursuits were o'er;
    And I could sing and dance no more;
    It then occurred how sad 'twould be
    Were all the world but made for me.

    --Abram R.

Guess Dad and I aren't the only ones in the family who have a penchant for dealing with emotion through art.

Anna (February 10, 1813 - November 1, 1875)

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