They call me Alaurilee

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I've been writing poetry from the age of 12. It has, and always will be my outlet, my voice. Join me on my journey . . . I can write about almost anything. :) ~ Life doesn't come with a shiny new book; no users manual of answers to find with one look. Life comes with doors that open and shut; and paths laid before us to be followed or passed up. There's things we can learn and things we may teach; hearts that may find us and souls we may reach. Guaranteed on this journey are teacups of tears; and pains that might hurt us may age us by years. But the beauty of life, love, laughter and giving; come from serving hugs on a platter each and every day we're living. ~

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Poinsettia Jeanette

She's eighty-five, yet her beauty
still reminds one of Liz Taylor.
With pretty, dark, Italian hair
and gorgeous skin so pretty and fair.

Her early years spent in Washington,
the land of D.C. was her home.
She entertained during World War Two
and played the accordion in the USO too.

A little saying well know back then,
"Jeanette rides the bus, you should too!".
With her picture posted on the side,
she graced the D.C. Metrobus ride.

Remember the year the winter was warm,
yet a blizzard was everywhere else?
She prettied her hair up a bit,
and put a rosy red color upon her lip.

In the botanical gardens, her friend took a picture
for the front page of the Washington Post.
Jeanette and poinsettia's in a pretty pose,
right beside a picture of blizzard snow that rose.

One day the time came for family and love
and Sal was the man who won her heart.
Steve, Paul and Vince were their boys.
They brought laughter and a houseful of toys.

Time has passed and more than fifty years later
we watch as your memory slowly fades away.
We fill your life with hugs and "I love you's",
and play games of rummy to chase away the blues.

Our dear sweet Mom we want you to know,
forever your memories will live and breath.
We cherish your stories and each blessed day,
and deep inside our hearts you will never go away.


I wrote this for my dear friend from twitter, @SteveGrim.

I wrote it based on some personal info I gathered from Steve about his Mom's life. His mother, Jeanette, is battled Alzheimers, and is already at a stage where she doesn't remember all of her stories. I made this in memory of everything she was and is, and for her sons who love her dearly and cherish every moment they are blessed with.