Poetry of Kansas


Who are you, lad? Speak out the truth!
      Our Edward? What a whopper!
Our Edward is a pretty babe
      In white gowns, starched and proper.
What? Ten years old? And can it be?
      Am I awake or dreaming?
Is this a world of real things,
      Or just a world of seeming?
I'd say 'twere but last week, or so,
      We heard your lusty squallings,
And saw your first attempts to walk,
      With tumblings hard, and sprawlings;
And picked you up, and coddled you,
      And kissed away your sighing;
And tossed and jolted you and said;
      "There, baby, stop your crying."
They say that time is slow, and halts;___
      'Tis wrong; it never lingers.
The years are very smooth, like eels,
      And slip right through one's fingers.
So I must own you're ten years old,
      By evidence conclusive,___
Though past belief did I not know
      The years are so elusive.

Quillings In Verse
John Edward Everett
(Smith Center: ___. 1912)
Pages 100-101

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March 28, 2003 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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