Old Folks At Homeold and gray, Sit down and write the letter and to them kindly say: Dear mother, I shall ne'er forget how kind you were to me, When I was a little child beneath your ever watchful eye. Words that are unspoken have no kindness to impart, Like the knelling of the bell that makes the tear-drops start. Don't wait until their tired steps reach Heav- en's pearly gate. Pluck roses while they're living, place them on their plate. We live out in the present, yesterday is past and gone. Tomorrow is not ours, in fact it may never come. The silver path that leads to fortune may vanish while you wait. So make the old folks happy before it is too late. Write them a tender message full of hope and good cheer. Show them that you think of them each hour, each day, each year. Who knows what bitter memories may haunt you if you wait? With a loving spirit, write them before it is too late. The Plains Poems in Kansas
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