My Mom loved poetry and often tried her hand at some private lines. Robert Burns (1759-1796) was her favorite poet. For some unknown reason, I ended up moving to Vermont and marrying a guy I met there. His name was Burns. Hmmm…
Life is a never-ending trip!
One day recently, I picked up my Mom’s old keepsake poetry book entitled Burn’s Poems and discovered two things. Yes, his name was Burns, so that apostrophe (No. 1) on the title of his book of poems is misplaced ! It should read Burns’ Poems, or Burns’s Poems. That publisher’s (circa 1800s) mistake astounds me; but so does life!
Life is a trip you don’t pack a bag for; you just go with the flow. Best laid plans go asunder…normally.
In the picture (ABOVE), my Mom poses during a camping trip on a picnic bench for Dad, who, yes, inserted the rock under the leg to make it the same length as the others and steady the table! My Dad was our family’s Steady Eddie — always!
In Burns’ book, his poem “My Wife’s A Winsome Wee Thing” was marked by a worn, broken red length of ribbon. The poem says in part:
“She is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
She is a bonny wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o’ mine…
…The warld’s (world’s) wrack, we share…
Wi’ her I’ll blithely bear it,
And think my lot divine.”
My Mother’s name was Bonita Jean — Bonny. Life’s a wondrous mystery!
My Dad loved my Mom dearly, and that poem’s thoughts were my Dad’s for my Mom, thus (No. 2) the page remained marked by the little red ribbon throughout my Mother’s life. My Father’s name was Robert.
Life is never a certainly. It only sends us messages to interpret.
Although my first writing love is Fiction prose, I’ve tried my hand at poetry now and again, too, as my Mother’s daughter at:
Family Photos from the personal and copyrighted collection of Barbara Anne Helberg