C. Helen McCullum Poems

Best Poem of C. Helen McCullum

All The Little Pansies Dropped Their Heads
I saw faces in the pansies, that lined the old, brick walk.
They seemed to smile and greet me-although; they could not talk.
They glistened in the sun-light, displaying all their hue-
The tiny tear-drops in their eyes, were drips of morning-dew. I know pansies don't have faces, it's only make-believe-
Yet; every time . . .
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The Treasures In Grandma's Room
All the treasures of a lifetime, are stored in Grandma's room-
Bracelets, rings, secret things, and bottles of sweet perfume,
Gay valentines, old letters, rare coins, and beaded bags,
Velvet kittens, stuffed with sawdust, fancy pillows, stuffed with rags,
An open-Bible on the table, near her wicker rocking chair-
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