Old Barn

Dear old barn,
still standing there
no longer
straight and tall,
I can see remains of
paint, bright red
when I was small.
The hay mow
that we played in
is empty now
and cold,
the pigeons still
are nesting there
as in the days of old.
The hay slings
I would swing from
as I jumped
into the hay
have disappeared
completely
somewhere along the way.
The mangers and
the stanchions
seem lonely all alone,
there’s not a sign of cattle;
I hear the
north wind moan.
I pull my sweater closer
and walk back to my car
and wipe away
a silent tear
for the way
things were and are.

~ written by Lucille Falk Miller,(c)1985

I have a sister

Some people
have silver and lots of gold
more diamonds and rubies
than hands can hold, but
I have a sister!

Some people have yachts,
estates most royal,
securities, bonds
and stocks and oil,but
I have a sister!

I’d not trade her
for riches or jewels,
those who would trade her
would have to be fools.
I have a sister!

written by Lucille Falk Miller,
(c) Aug 10, 1999

To My Mom

All through
the years
you cared for me
and wiped
my nose
and dried
my tears,
you washed
my clothes
and scrubbed
my neck
and lectured me
and gave me heck.
You outlined life
and helped
set goals
and showed
the way
by how you lived.
You held me back
or drove me on
inspired me when
hope was gone;
always if
I needed you,
I found you there,
a critic true.
You made me angry
lots of times
but all the same
your words
of truth
showed true
and burned
the ages through:
a shinning flame
to light the way
and strengthen me.
Oh mother mine
your prayers for me
have brought me through!
The burdens you
have helped me bear
the love you gave
and joys to share
and comfort that
I know you care.
On Mothers Day
it’s not enough
to tell you that
when things are rough
your prayers and words
have kept me tough
to handle praise
and bear rebuff.
It’s good that
there is Mothers Day
or I might yet
neglect to say
that which I think
and feel all year,
how much I really
love you, dear.
Have a happy
Mothers Day!

~written by Lucille Falk Miller for her mother
on Mother’s Day © 1977

Designer Jeans

I am a jean.
All my protein,
my enzymes keen
are bright and lean.
You have not seen
a finer jean!
Each molecule
is really cool,
my nucleotide
from far and wide
in fine array
is there today.
A-C-G-T, C-G-T-A
all 64,
each one a four,
in sets of three,
are here in me
in strands of two:
a helix new.
A pairs with T
and G with C,
it’s clear as mud
you’re such a dud!
Amino acids and proteins:
simplicity.
You really mean
spaghetti in a pot of stew
can clone another me and you!
Bacteria, a little beast
spread out on a chunk of yeast,
a molecule of DNA,
and a brand new jean
is on its way.
Straight forward now
and you have seen
a charming new
designer jean!
~ written by Lucille Falk Miller © 1983

The Garden of Life

I believe
life is a garden
wherein we plant
flowers or weeds
I believe
we are the seed pods
we scatter
as we proceed
I believe
we are planting
life’s garden
with all of our
actions
and deeds
If we wish
a garden
of beauty
of lovely flowers
not weeds
I believe for a
garden of beauty
then we have to
plant the
right seeds
I believe
if we want
love and kindness
our harvest
as farmers all know
I believe
we must spread
love and kindness
we are likely to reap
what we sow.

~ written by Lucille Falk Miller (c) 1996

This old Gal

This old gal
is getting feeble
This old gal
is getting weak
This old gal has
got a lot of steam left and
energy in every creak
Though her joints are getting creaky
and her seams are split and frayed
there’s still a lot of ginger
in every play she’s played

~ Written by Lucille Falk Miller for Christmas (c) 1977

My Mammy

Who’s the one we call on
when all the chips are down?
My mammy!
Who babysits til she has fits
while we’re out on the town
My mammy!
Who wiped my nose
and rubbed my neck
and fed me tea
when I got sick
and thought she’d earned
a rest by heck
My mammy!
But now the grandkids
number seven
she thanks the lord
there’s not eleven
she hasn’t time
she wonders not
what stops her going
plum to pot
her pot has warn to a nub
keeping tabs on sis and bub
time hasn’t left her on the shelf
she hasn’t time left for herself
she doesn’t need to find a club
or spend her hours in a pub
she’d rather stay at home scrub
my Mammy
and when she gets her hair fixed fine
you’d never know she’s 59
My mammy
Happy Birthday and lots of love from Lucy,
your mean little kid!

~written by Lucille Falk Miller (c)

Bits of Tinsel

When I think of Christmas
memories start to flow
of Christmas trees and twinkling lights
and sparkling crunchy snow.
Our father soaking Lutefisk,
mom writing Christmas notes,
and sis and I rehearsing songs
new mittens, scarves and coats.
Our favorite company coming
those presents ‘neath the tree
we kids are so excited
it is almost misery!
Years have passed by swiftly
with changes ‘long the way
but lovely bits and pieces
still fill my Christmas Day.

~written by Lucille Falk Miller (c) 12/25/90

In honor of the 50th anniversary of South High School, Class of 1939 Minneapolis, Minnesota

In honor of the 50th Anniversary of
South High School,
Class of 1939
Minneapolis, Minnesota

It’s been a half a century,
50 years – how can it be?
It seems like scarcely yesterday
we said goodbye and made our way
out into the brave new world
with spirits high,
our flags unfurled.
Before we really had a chance –
at first it hardly caught our glance
but there it was,
a global war!
It changed our lives,
and even more
when we dropped the bomb there in Japan,
we feared the end of modern man;
and life went on, the war was won.
We soon forgot what we had done,
we seldom paused to contemplate
as we kept our date with fate.
We reached out for the GI bill,
we built our cottage on the hill,
or went to school, got a degree
and bought our selves a new TV.
We girls refused to give up slacks
we kept our jobs and left those tracks
that our daughters might seek out
and cling to rights without a doubt
that women had a lot to give
beyond the kitchen,
and to live in the shadows out of sight
was no longer just quite right.
We raised our kids
with help from Spock
and though we often were in hock
we kept our eyes upon the stars
and got ourselves a fleet of cars.
The milk and ice men came no more,
we got carpet for our floor
then there was college for our young
tuition costs and taxes stung.
Protests, Viet Nam and Hair
didn’t get us anywhere
but things never remain the same
and soon hippies, yuppies became.
We’re got our Social Security,
Medicare and our own RV,
camcorders, Xeroxes, tapes and fax
and catastrophic health care tax!
Who could dream of home computers
back then when we had zootsuiters?
We’ve got freeways, asphalt and gravel,
super jets, we’ve got space travel;
we fear our kids would not conceive
but after years we live and breathe.
Our grandkids were worth waiting for
and they’re the cutest, what is more!
Our lives are full, we’re golden age-ers
we’ve got pull tabs and can make wagers;
so we cheer for the orange and black
isn’t it great that we came back?

~ written by Lucille Falk Miller (c)1989

[Lucy was asked by her class to write a poem
for this 50th anniversary of the class of 1939]