Alverna Reimold 

Weatherly, Pennsylvania, USA 

I started writing, after my mother died. The pain and loneliness stirred, in my soul, and I started writing. With pen in my hand, I wrote one poem after another. I published a book of poems, and two children's books. My poems were published in the "Poets Corner," of the Times News, "The World Treasury of Great Poems," "The Panorama Magazine," "The American Poetry Anthology," and "Sparrowgrass." I received numerous awards and two trophies. My poem, "Hands," hangs in the Social Room of The American Legion, Post 360. I also did a recital in the Philharmonic Cultural Center and a reading on T.V.
Alverna says, "I get my inspiration from real life and from remembering my days back home with Mom and Dad." 

Those Brown Paper Bags 

I'll always remember, when I was a lad
Those brown paper bags, brought home by my Dad
I'd climb up on a chair, and Momma would smile
To see all the food, that would last, for awhile
Momma be so happy, to fill up her shelves

She'd kiss Dad, for giving so much of himself
He worked day and night, and never complained
Just to keep his family free from all pain
I'm married now and life is the same
Only now like Dad, I never complain
So, now I thank God, that I am able
To put food, for my kids, on my kitchen table

Back Home Again 

I can never remember, the cupboards being bare
There was always plenty of food to spare
I can still see Mom standing by the old cook stove
With her worn out shoes, and her shabby clothes
We were never allowed to run the street
Always forbidden to smoke or drink
The rules she laid down were hard to obey
But she kept us all, from going astray
Things were bad way back then
But I'd give a million
To be back home again

She Gave Me Flowers 

She gave me flowers
Just the other day
And a kiss and a hug
Before she walked away

A pretty young woman
She grew up to be
When just a sunset ago
She was only three

Am I getting older
How can this be
With tears in my eyes
I can see
The flowers she gave me
When she was only three