Author: Dorothy C. Fox
The telephone rang and my heart sank
I had a feeling something was wrong.
The voice on the other end said, so
quietly and gently, "Sylvie is gone".
I knew her so well. My husband's
favorite sister, you know the one that
could wrestle and tease on growin' up.
Sylvie was the one who helped make this
"flatland furriner" comfortable in the
"dog patch style country of West Virgina,
and had "toe tappin' music" on summer
evenings on her large front porch when we would visit
first from Washington D.C., and then Ohio.
The country folk, in their blue jeans with galouses would gather
around and sing those "Johnny Cash" and other beloved songs.
The guys would break out the moonshine
and pass the jug around...until Sylvie
would give them a frown.
"Now boys go easy on that stuff. We
don't want the party to get too rough".
Oh my, those days so long gone and I
sorrow for the years we missed and
that closeness, her voice and wonderment
for life, left a legacy for her large
family; an ability for love that cannot be erased.
Sylvie, your memory is so strong in my
heart, when I close my eyes, I can see
you.. your kind deep blue eyes and blond
hair.. and I know your love is still
in the air. And someday, we'll meet
Just don't know when.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|Martin Vann (220.127.116.11) -- Wednesday, March 3 2004, 09:34 pm|
I read your poem today, and I have so much to say, where do I begin? I think it best, just to speak as if, well, I am a friend. There are those in my life, that God has taken home. So, much love to me thay gave, almost forgot, until today.
Dorothy, thank you, I knew Sylvie too, but her name was Irene, my father's sister. She loved and cared for me and my brother, took us to softball games, Irene was the picther. This was all a thousand years ago, that is until today, when I read your poem, "Sylvia."
Thank you Dorothy, you brought me back to love, true roots, I had almost forgot. I know one day, you and Sylvie, will set upon that porch, and those guys, such idiots, will make fools of themselves in front of all eyes who care to see.
Then once we have sung our songs and danced our dances, take them home, back to our hearts, where they all belong.
Lots of memories, Dorothy, you brought back to me, had it not been for you, I may have lost that love of memories. Best love I ever knew, thank you Dorothy, for reminding me.
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