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MY DAD'S PAGE
In Memory Of
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Marlee's Mansion

1905 -- 1992
THIS IS MY MOM AT 84 YEARS OLD.

SOME   OF   MY   MOM'S   FAVORITE   POEMS

THE SWING
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!

Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside--

Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown--
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!

-ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON-
Mom in her seventies...going up in a swing

MY MOM AT TWENTY

THE SPIDER AND THE FLY

Will you walk into my parlor? Said a spider to a fly;
'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many a curious thing to show you
when you're there.

"I'm sure you must be weary with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?" Said the spider to the fly.
"There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are
fine and thin; and if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly
tuck you in."

"Oh, no, no!" said the little fly, "For I've often heard
it said, they never, never wake again, who sleep
upon your bed." Said the cunning spider to the fly,
"Dear friend, what shall I do, to prove the warm
affection I've always felt for?"

I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice;
I'm sure you're very welcome, will you please to take a
slice? "Oh, no, no!" said the fly, "kind sir, that cannot be;
I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish.
to see."

"Sweet creature," said the spider, "you're witty and you're
wise; how handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant
are your eyes. I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor
shelf; If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold
yourself."

"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased
to say, and bidding you good-morning, now, I'll call another
day." For well he knew the silly fly would soon be back
again; So he wove a subtle thread in a little corner sly,
and set his table ready to dine upon the fly.

He went out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
"Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver
wing; your robes are green and purple, there's a
crest upon your head; your eyes are like the diamond
bright, but mine are dull as lead."

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly, little fly, hearing his wily,
flattering words, came slowly flitting by. With buzzing wings
she hung aloft then near and nearer drew, thought only of
her brilliant eyes and green and purple hue; thought only
of her crested head, poor foolish thing! At last up jumped
the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast.

He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den.
Within his little parlor, but she ne'er came out again!
And now, dear little children who may this story read, to
idle silly, flattering words, I pray you, ne'er give heed; unto
an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye, and learn
a lesson from this tale of the spider and the fly.

--MARY HOWITT--