The Diary

Digging through an old wood chest on my parent’s farm one day, I came across a tiny book…its cover torn away. Not at first concerned about what kind of book it was, Its age would make me curious…like any old thing does… And I began to wonder why they’d saved this tattered book, So I sat down and put my glasses on to have a look. I learned it was a diary, and its writer…just a child. And as I read the quaint and touching words, I sat and smiled. This child had played with homemade dolls, and stick-men, made from cobs. She talked of helping “Mom” fold clothes, and other children’s jobs. Like…when her dad and she would candle eggs for double-yolks. I soon could tell how much this little girl adored her folks. She talked of shucking corn, and baking pies with Mom at night… Of topping up the lamps with oil to keep the cabin bright. Then slowly, as I read the words, my mind began to see… The happy, little girl who’d wrote those loving words…was me! And I, again, relived the days I spent with Mom and Dad, When I was just a child…oh, what a perfect life we had. And though the book is tattered, and the cover wasn’t found… I turn to it whenever I’m afraid - or feeling down! I find a gentle calming peace from times that were the best, Within my diary, found while digging through an old wood chest. PS: I've now got 4 new Audio-CDs - @ 4 1/2 hours each = (62 diversely varied pieces). They’re listed on EBAY - under - “Mark Stellinga Poetry” - or available by simply contacting me at -- mark@writerofbooks.com -- should those of you who enjoy listening to poems as well as reading them - and particularly those of you that travel - care to be so entertained. (We use safe and simple - PayPal) Cheers, Mark