Shirley Morris Palmer, 1926-2007, was many things: smart, witty, caring, worldly, creative, and my grandmother. I had always thought, though, that my love of and knack for writing had come to me through my grandfather's side of the family, as he and my father are both skilled writers. A couple summers after my grandmother's death, however, I found an old box in her closet that proved I may have inherited my writing abilities from her side of the family as well. Tucked inside the old box I discovered an even older envelope, on which appeared these words: "Poems By Me." Inside I found a cache of poems, all signed "by Shirley Morris" in my grandmother's familiar handwriting. Morris was her maiden name so I knew that the poems had been written when she was a child or teenager.
As these poems reflect, Shirley was clearly able to command her words, use dialogue within a tight rhyme scheme, write from different points of view, and slip cleverly between subjects that were sweet and demure, reflecting the innocence of childhood, and subjects that were more adult, such as romantic courtship (or was she hinting at something a little more physical?). As you read through these poems, I hope that you too will recognize that the writings are both timely and timeless and that they represent the too often "tucked away" or hidden talents of our cold war matrons.
Poems by Shirley Morris Palmer
Dear Santa Clause
I'll do my homework every night And get every singly question right I'll sweep the floor and dry the dishes And obey my mother's wishes
When I want to see a show And daddy plainly answers no I won't go off to pout or cry Or get sassy and ask why
I'll be very very good And do everything I should All these things I'll mind with care If you'll bring me a teddy bear
The Question
Is there a Santa Mother? She asked of me one day Older children had told her no So what was I to say.
She still believed that he would come And fill her stocking on Christmas Eve Then when all his work was done With his reindeer he would leave
Is there Mother? she asked again I couldn't spoil her happiness And so I said to her at last Of course there is my darling, yes
Saint Patricks Day In Our Town
Saint Patricks Day is drawing near, And everwhere is seen, To the right and to the left of us, The wearing of the green.
Sure and you never saw the likes, And word is going around That there's going to be a big barn dance On March Seventeenth, in our town.
And when that day comes around, Whether the weather is fair or it rains, We'll celebrate Saint Patricks day, Cause there's Irish in our veins.
My Easter Hat
It's just as cute as it can be I think it was just made for me It's covered with daisies, yellow and white Why it could be seen plainly at night.
It's the latest style that's in this spring And it's such a charming little thing How much is it? Or did you say? Ten-fifty? Heavens no not today.
Twas the night of the mixer And all through the house I searched and I rumaged Till I found a red blouse
On this special occasion I must look just right Because a certain young man Will take me tonight
Is each curl in place Is my skirt a bit long Are my hose the right shade Is my lipstick on wrong?
Ah there's the doorbell Why come in Art Well here's my hat So come on let's start.
