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Mrs Stanton

Mrs. Stanton

In a little adobe bungalow
On the back of a lot in old El Paso,
Behind cacti and sand in s fantasy land,
Lived Mrs. Stanton, a writer.

Her days were spent among papers and books,
Dressed in calico and pinned white hair,
She hummed and expressed smile and frown,
As she imagined what stories might sell.

A curious next door nine year old
Timidly knocked, hearing her typewriter.
“Hello, dear, will you have tea with me?”
Little Nine stands straight, a “grown-up”
For Mrs. Stanton.

She enters that cluttered paper-filled room
And Mrs. Stanton notes her expressions,
As she bounces a plot or two to little Nine,
Observing her child’s reaction.

Happy days passed as the little girl asked
A million questions of the lady,
Someday she a writer would be
For the love of Mrs. Stanton.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 5/5/2018 7:14:00 PM
She certainly is one...on paper/print, her words would one day display...A nice little story...Is it your imagination that wrote this...
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Date: 5/5/2018 5:51:00 AM
Beautiful story with an inspiring message my friend, Sunlite!
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Date: 5/3/2018 9:49:00 AM
I like this. Very interesting. Makes me think of a fortune teller or something. True or not, it seems true and alive. Very well done!
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Sunlite Wanter
Date: 5/3/2018 6:24:00 PM
Thank you so much, Pat. I was the nine-year old.