Granduncle Mark's Genealogy Parlor

Poetry of

Elda Elizabeth (Routh) Eddleman
1910 - 1999

Submitted by her grandson,
Mark Ellsworth Hickman, PhD

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Poem's by Elda Elizabeth (Routh) Eddleman

Index

Ball of Twine

For you I save thoughts,
I want you to know,
like Mamma saved string,
and wound into a ball long ago!

It's sheer mental torture
when I don't get them set down.
But, oh, how happy I am
when finally they are letter-bound!

So, when my mind gets too crowded,
I've just got to unwind,
so here, catch this strand
of my ball of thought-twine!

--by Elda Elizabeth (Routh) Eddleman (1910-1999)

My Pondering Thoughts

May I, too, have miles to go before I sleep,
as Robert Frost, the poet, did say,
for there are so many commitments to keep
as while on earth only once we pass this way.

It seems to me that the gift supreme
lies deep within one's heart,
and it is an ever flowing "spring of love,"
a most precious gift from God above.

With a magnetic force, He holds us
however far we chance to stray.
But, oh how dear He is to us
to over and over point out the way.

Often we have to wait on our Lord with patience.
His Word gives this advice to each.
For He who is the sourch of all power
is ever within our reach.

For me to live is "Christ," Paul said so long ago.
So this, too, must be our heart's desire
-- to strive to be an example in all we say and do,
for by proving Christ dwells within our soul, others we will inspire!

--by Elda Elizabeth (Routh) Eddleman (1910-1999)

More Pondering Thoughts

If my written thoughts carry a goodly measure
of faith, love, hope and mirth,
then for me to have lived is gain,
leaving my soul enriched with a spiritual warmth.

Our rewards are sure to be a rich blessing
if we continue to serve our Lord and live for others
for caring and sharing and with love,
He bonds us with kindred ties into sisters and brothers.

So, with "written clutches of thoughts," I try to serve Him
for I believe He wants me to us my mind in this way,
and I'm ever so grateful for my God-given talent
that helps me life spirits by His inspiring what I say.

There are times my spirit becomes wonderlusting,
and goes a questing to review again
from my life's spent yesteryears
to retrieve some golden nuggets from my memory bin.

What a joy it is to retrace one's journey,
lingering in the happy times that will ever vividly remain,
for dwelling in dear memories whenever one desires
is the richest kind of blessing anyone could claim

--by Elda Elizabeth (Routh) Eddleman (1910-1999)

My Sister

A poem for
Velva Delilah "Jean" (Routh) Houghton

Her footsteps were faltering,
and weary grew her way,
but deep in her heart,
oh, how she yearned so to stay.

She has gone I am sure
where there is sweet peace,
and from her sufferings and sorrows,
she now has release.

God had His reasons,
and one day He will say
why he came so early
to take her soul away.

Even while the soft shadows
were enveloping her demise,
she endeavored with great courage
Her dear Lord to please.

Her unwavering faither, love,
and courage at best
will remain a shrine-like memory
to loved ones bereft.

Because her faith never wavered,
her courage did staunchly remain,
so heart rendering are these rememberings,
as we recall them again and again.

So we will walk with the hope
that one day we will meet her there,
where her soul rests in peace
in our Heavenly Father's loving care.

--by Elda Elizabeth (Routh) Eddleman (1910-1999)

To My Garden Visitors

Here take my arm, come stroll with me
where there are blooms galore
along the fence -- each way you turn,
e'ento our open door.

Did you envision all this charm,
so much you for you to see?
Each flower is a living picture,
a gift from God to me.

Let's pause awhile and reminisce
under Pink Dawn's lovely bower.
This old swing beneath it's shade
has weathered many a shower.

Though this old swing creaks quite badly,
don't you be nervous or have any fear,
fot it's still quite strong and safe,
and will still last for many a year.

Isn't it peaceful as gently we swing;
see the green lush meadows and the woods beyond.
What a lovely distraction -- so spirit-lifting and
isn't it a joy to listen to the birds' sweet song?

Roses are turly our favorite flower
with their charming fashions and colorful hues.
The loveliest sight in an early dawn here
is breathtaking when the roses are drenched with dew.

Just cup a rose within your hand;
Note its perfect form and fragrance rare;
And everyone is like a painting -- so exquisite --
Regardless of their name -- they all receive loving care.

Come now, choose the blooms that you love best,
and find the most appealing.
Do you not feel the nearness of our Lord
as in each bloom His greatness is revealing?

Do come soon again to share this loveliness with me
while my beautiful flower garden is at its peak,
so you can share my memories with me
after summer has waned and winter has brought now and sleet!

--by Elda Elizabeth (Routh) Eddleman (1910-1999)

Punkin'

(For Elda's 10th and youngest grandchild,
Janna Lynn Wellman,
on Janna's 21st birthday)

It's unbelievable that already you're an adult,
for it seems only yesterday you were a pixie tot.
Though those years seem much like a beautiful dream,
my memory has kept them quite vivid -- I haven't forgot!

You literally crawled into my heart
before you were born.
So anxious was I for your birthing
that my spirit became low-ebbed and a bit forlorn.

Then the day came when your daddy carried you over
in a baby carrier clean and neat,
and as I looked down upon you,
I knew nothing could be so sweet.

You reminded me of a fragrant rosebud,
cherub-like you were, with your petals tightly closed.
Surely you were a special gift from God --
so alert and bright-eyed, with a little button nose.

I have a store bin of memories
tightly filled from those years with you.
And you would be surprised how often
I open that bin and take out more than few.

What a bouncy, busy and happy child you were;
Never still, only when you were asleep.
You every moment was filled with excitement.
How richly blest am I to have the precious memories to keep.

'Member, too, those little tunes I taught you
to play on the piano with one finger?
Didn't we have fun -- Wasn't it a happy time?
and in my heart that joy will ever linger.

Oh, but you did love to play store,
I vow, I bought every item in our home.
We used the change you emptied from my purse.
What a business lady you well -- selling me every painting, even the phone!

There were times, though, when you were quite ill,
and those times grieved me to no end.
But I never ceased to pray for God's healing,
and always thanked him when you were on the mend.

Remember when we had church services each Sunday,
and you used my darner for loud speaking?
You used grape juice and crackers for our communion,
then you conducted a song services and did spirited preaching.

"Nanny don't care what I do," you told your Pappy
the while you selected jewelry, a pair of shoes and clothes.
How you did love to dress up like a grown-up,
quite a picture you were as you modeled and posed.

When it was "Now-I-lay-me-down-to-sleep" time,
we had warm baths, and then got all snuggled in bed.
'Member Mr. Sandman who was perched on a picture above our heads,
to sprinkle sleepy dust after our prayers were said?

First we girl-talked but wished we had more time
to happy talk before saying our prayer, but Mr. Sandman
didn't favor us and began sprinkling his sleepy dust,
and our prayers were barely finished when we slipped away to dream land.

That sweet scented rose bud's petals
have opened into a beautiful bloom -- quite rare.
And I'm so pleased at how it unfolded with time,
for patience and a loving heart are beyond compare.

Time is so fleeting -- there is never a lull.
And before you realize it, you will have reached your goal.
As teaching special children will be so rewarding,
for enriching their lives will add peace to your soul.

I pray God will bring to your every unfolding day
lovely blessings you'll long treasure
with bonuses of happiness
far beyond any measure!

Happy 21st Birthday!

I love you dearly,

Nanny E.

--by Elda Elizabeth (Routh) Eddleman (1910-1999)

STROLLING THROUGH THE YESTERYEARS

Many of our winters have been harsh
and so endlessly long
But finally Spring makes her debut
with the birds of sweet song!

They begin migrating from the South
And it takes much longer than a week
for them to come to our valley
a nesting place to seek

Six birdhouses we had stationed
here and there on our land.
All were different sizes and shapes.
Some hung but others were on a stand.

Each house was a 'beehive'
leaving no more apartments to lease.
And to the winnowing birds I'd say,
'Perching room only please.'

Oh, what a thrill when green lances
began inching up, from a 'pip' to quite tall
from the Daffodil bulbs
that we planted every fall.

Then the Crocus began bloomington,
always so cheery to see.
I always wished that the whole world
could enjoy them with me

Then, our acre began greening
and quickly became lush
with a thick carper of green
that lent a soft hush.

Our beautiful perenial bed
was ever our job and our pride
as it filled full of blooms
so high and so wide.

From quite early in the season
on through to late fall,
it's plants kept on blooming
and proudly stayed so stately and tall.

When the Pussywillow was furry
(a gift from a friend),
such a vision of loveliness
I'll remember to life's end.

We were amazed when our sweet-scented Hyacinths
began emerging while it was still snowing.
Daily we watched their struggle to be reborn,
so thrilling to see them literally growing.

Then, there were the 'pert' pips of the Tulips
determinedly contesting in the race
with all the other Spring flowers
that were already showing their face.

The Rose is the queen of all flowers --
It has always been known to be.
And, after having lived in their midst so long,
I would not be one to disagree.

A signt I'll never forget,
In an early Summer dawn here,
were my dew-drenched Roses, a vision of beauty,
that filled my heart with a special kind of cheer.

New Pink Dawn was the name of the Roses
that graced the posts where the ol' swing swayed.
It was a holding from the past
and a reminder of memorable days.

That New Pink Dawn I so adored.
It's waxy foliage won my favor.
And, how I loved it's sweet fragrance
as so often I took the time to savor.

Spiraea gives a truly 'bridal' look
to our yard when Spring is new.
And I never tire of looking
at this special, lovely view.

Everyone should have flowers,
if only a few.
For they bless one so greatly.
They honestly do.

--by Elda Elizabeth (Routh) Eddleman (1910-1999)

HAPPY MEMORIES FROM DAYS OF MY YOUTH

I'd always felt that April in Indiana
had Paris beat by far,
for this sweet little 'nosegay' month
kept our wagon hitched to a star.

So, April is ever a reminder of my roots,
left in a familiar place known as home.
And such endearing ties will 'ere remain
no matter where I'll chance to roam.

Often my thoughts tread the path to the school
that set high on a windy hill.
Just a two-roomed building, but it served us well,
as we learned to read, write, count and spell.

I remember when books took up right after noon,
how our teacher would stand and read a 'spell.'
And we'd always beg him to read on and on,
for he could read so wonderfully well.

I'll never forget the 'box and pie socials"
and the sheet that hung 'like so,'
behind which we 'puppy-love-struck' girls
giggling, 'shadow-graphed' for a beau!

Oh, such deluxe pies, so supurb.
Luscious wedges to remember.
I could never forget such times of job.
I'm pretty sure the first social was in September?

I remember it was five or ten cents
that it cost to cast a line,
in the corner fish pond,
for a trinket of some kind.

Oh, those spelling and cyphering matches,
dramatic, suspence-filled, such high times of glee.
I recall often being downed on a simple word,
but cyphering was my 'cup of tea.'

I often recall, too, our community togetherness,
like one big family much were we --
How we'd often gather at some creek
to enjoy a frolicking merry spree.

I can't remember anyone being able to swim,
but we 'mud-crawled' and splashed water on no matter who,
while our dear mothers sand the the creek's bank
resting and enjoying some time out, too.

Numerous homes were happy hang-outs
for all we young folks 'round Stanford way.
Of all the joys we shared, the candy-making times
are the best remembered to this day.

I could never forget Lucy who came on Friday afternoons,
ladened with a basket of goodies for us to eat.
And for we always-hungry pupils,
this was always a wonderful treat.

Lucy was our teacher's wife, and such a lovely lady.
Always a welcome sight was she,
as she made Friday afternoons special
when she appeared every Friday around three.

From my store-bin of memories I've enjoyed sharing
thoughts of my youth long tucked away.
But now I must close the door to those yesteryears,
until I choose to reminisce again some day.

--by Elda Elizabeth (Routh) Eddleman (1910-1999)