poetry

Family Tree

One of my grandma Isabel Leslie Dingledy’s poems,

this one to me, Lynn Haines Dingledy  in the 1950s. 

“From Holyrood to Hollywood

The tree spread, bare and old;

A dying tree, no more to know

How springtime leaves unfold.

 

Or so it seemed ’til one glad May

The old tree’s roots struck down…

The taproots nourished anciently

In a far off Scottish town.

 

Once more the tree is learning

The joy a young shoot brings

As on a branch late-flowering

A little linnet sings.”

 

😢  😊

 

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