Mary Frances Green Spanish Fort, Alabama

Born in Bay Minette, Alabama, November 7, 1910. Following my retirement after a long career in private and government work, genealogy became my main interest. Recently I became interested in writing poetry. It is a satisfying outlet and gives me a sense of accomplishment as well. One of my poems was published in a local newspaper and several have been included in my local retirement publication, "Westminster Chimes." I am a member of the Methodist Church, The Daughters of The American Revolution, The Mayflower Society, The Colonial Dames of The Seventeenth Century, and the Order of the Crown of Charlemagne in the USA.

Spare The Tree It has been said with certainty That only God can grow a tree. Man does not seem to understand That trees are part of God's great plan. Through the ages trees have provided Many things required for man's survival. They've given man wood to keep him warm -- And for shelters to protect him from harm. Trees have supplied food for man and beast And haven't seemed diminished in the least. And even though it was not their duty, They have delighted man with their beauty. Let's hope man will display due respect And before downing a tree he will reflect, That it has taken years for the tree to grow. Is it really necessary for it to go? If it is possible, please spare the tree: Don't chop it down unless it's a necessity. Let's let God know that we do understand That trees are a great gift from God to man.

Mirror, Mirror Mirror, Mirror on the wall, What you reflect is not at all What I wish that I could see? Is that really, really me? There was once upon a time When you did not show a line On my forehead or under my eyes. You've surely taken me by surprise! Obviously time has wrought great change So I've no choice now but to arrange For creams and powders to disguise Those blemishes that you emphasize. You have made me face my plight And realize that try as I might You must reflect just what you see ... All I can say is "Woe is me!"

Glitter VS.Gold All that glitters is not gold, That is what I have been told. I've often wondered about that And if, indeed,it is a fact. I'm not convinced; I still don't know But I can't just accept "I told you so." Glitter surely catches the eye Of many of those passing by. Whether glitter is gold is really moot. It suits some as a substitute. It can cheer us up when we are sad. Surely that is good and can't be bad. A little glitter does not harm. It's really no cause for alarm. Sometimes we need what it provides; Brightness and beauty in our lives. At last I've reached a final conclusion, That glitter is really a kind of illusion. Glitter is not gold, I'll have to agree, But it's not without value if it pleases Thee. Still, a word of warning may be due; Just don't let glitter overwhelm you. Remember, gold has fine things to offer, And no way can glitter fill your coffer!

All poems Copyright © 1996 Mary Frances Green. All rights reserved.