Here is the poem I promised for you. It is called “Rejected”
A stranger stood at the gates of Hell And the Devil himself had answered the bell.
He looked him over from head to toe And said,” My friend, I’d like to know
What you have done in the line of sin To entitle you to come within”.
Then Franklin D. with his usual guile, Stepped forth and flashed his toothy smile.
When I took charge in thirty three A nation’s faith was mine, said he,
I promised this and I promised that And I calmed them down with a fireside chat.
I spent their money on fishing trips, And fished from the decks of their battleships.
I gave them jobs on the P.W.A. Then raised their taxes and took it away.
I raided their wages and closed their shops I killed their pigs and burned their crops
I doubled crossed both old and young, And still the fools my praises sung.
I brought back beer and what do you think I taxed it so high they could’t drink
I furnished money with government loans When they missed a payment I took their homes.
When I wanted to punish the folks, you know, I’d put my wife on the radio,
I paid them to let their farms lie still And imported food stuffs from Brazil.
I curtailed crops when I felt real mean And shipped in wheat from Argentine,
When they started to worry, stew or fret I’d get them to chanting the alphabet.
With A.A.A. and the C.C.C. With these many units I got their goats,
And still I crammed it down their throats My workers worked with the speed of snails
While the tax payers chewed their finger nails, When the organizers needed dough
I closed the plants for the C.I.O. I ruined jobs and I ruined health
And I put the screws on the rich man’s wealth.
And some who would”t stand the gaff Would call one me, and how I’d laugh
When they got too strong on certain things I’d pack and head for old Warm Springs.
I ruined their country, their homes and then I placed the blame on the nine old men
Now Franklin talked both long and loud, and the Devil stood and his head was bowed.
At last he said, “Let’s make it clear You’ll have to move, you can’t stay here
For once you mingled with this mob I’d have to hunt myself a job:.
Norman loved this one so I pass it on in honor of him. It has taught me one thing tho, There are two sides to any story and everyone has a right to their own opinion. I promise to be more better of respecting other people opinions and just keep mine to myself. Love your neighbor and let him think what he wants, Just enjoy the things you have in common and if you can’t find any common ground, just move on and leave him be. So much for my pearl of wisdom for today.
I got two more loose ends tied up today and Joe went through my kitchen with soap and water and did a beautiful job of fall cleaning. Patty said she would love to hire him for her house but he doesn’t have enough days left here to do that. Right now they are all taking a well deserved rest at the beach while I sit down and just relax here. Have a great day.
Thanks for Grandpa’s poem Carol. I had a good laugh! You know, I never realized that he wrote poetry at all. Of course, I knew your mother often did.
About 2 weeks ago, on a lovely Fall afternoon, I decided to drive over to Harrisville. I was alone and just drove around the village to all my favorite spots. The beach, Peanut row, Auntie Thayer’s house, the ” parrot lady’s ” house, the telephone office/house, the cemetery and visited your folk’s headstone and grave, stopped by the store and the mill area……….filled me with nostalgia and happy memories. I usually get over that way once every summer for old times sake.
Carol, we have a spare bedroom if you ever wish to visit, we’d love to have you. Have one of the girls put you on a plane and we will meet you and bring you here. Easy trip!!!!
Take care and a big hug for you. Love, Nancy
Thank you for the invite. I don’t do much traveling. I haven’t even gone up to visit Shirley in the three years we have been here but I am going to try going up with Patty when she goes up again. Right now I have lots of thing to get organized and things to learn to do. I really don’t know which end is up right now.
I don’t think there is anyone left in Harrisville I know. I have never looked back and have too many places I would have to go to if I started now. The “parrot lady” was Mrs Taylor. Her husband was superintendent of the mill. I have two other poems I want to put on and will do one tomorrow I think.