The following poem is one that is very near and dear to my heart. It's so special to me that
*********************
You ask why I wear this ribbon,
Though it's faded, I wouldn't change it
The fingers that pinned it there,
And this ribbon remains to remind me,
When I was a tall young fellow,
I grew rather too fond of the company,
I couldn't be called a drunkard,
But drink was getting my master,
I was courting then,pretty Alice.
How proud I felt on a Sunday,
Her hair was like burnished sunbeams,
How happy we were together,
She was more then pretty, my Alice,
And she wouldn't give me no peace,
We almost had a quarrel,
"Do you love me best?", she whispered,
There's only one answer to that,
So the end of it was, I promised,
Till Alice should give me leave to,
And our bands were read in church,
We were happy together,
There wasn't a shadow of sorrow,
We had one child, our little Rosie.
If you'd wanted an angel on earth,
But trouble was waiting somewhere,
Young master got married,
There was arches, and banners, and feasting,
A good sort of treat for the children,
As we all sat around the table,
I want to propose a health, friends,
So fill up your glasses high,
Good health, long life, to man and wife,
They came and filled up the glasses,
But when they came towards me,
"No wine for me sir, thank-you".
"Not going to drink to master's health,
Well the end of it was, they filled it,
To break my promise to Alice,
That sort of uneasy feeling,
Stood up for the rights, and the truth,
We men sat around at the table,
And I knew that me and the devil,
He won, for I left that night,
And I staggered home drunk,
And many an evening after,
My wages went in at the till there,
My Alice grew thin and careworn,
But somehow I didn't notice,
Three years went by like that mates,
Of the sorrow at home at our cottage.
I never went with my darlings,
For who dare go to church on a Sunday,
One morning as I started for work,
And put her thin arms around me,
"Such a happy evening for you,
"If you'll come straight home from work Dad,
"Do Dad", she pleaded,
I couldn't resist her winning way,
I meant it, and started homeward,
But again I fought with the tyrant,
There was waiting at the tavern,
They bullied and jostled and jeered me,
We sat and drank that night mates,
"Jim Master, your Rosie is dying,
"Dying, my Rosie dying".
I rushed to our home, like a mad man,
I crossed to the little chamber,
She smiled when she saw me,
She whispered, but oh so softly,
The doctor beckoned me nearer,
I couldn't speak nor kiss her,
"I was coming to meet you Daddy,
She stopped , we thought she was going.
"To write your name in my pledge book,
"I meant to have asked you sooner,
"But I dare-say when I planned it,
"You'll do it now , won't you Daddy?
"And I'll be so much, much happier,
"And then when I get to Heaven,
"I can tell him, that you're coming,
I wrote my name, in her pledge book,
And with tiny trembling fingers,
"Promise Daddy, say it."
"I promise my lass I swear it,
"Momma" she said to Alice,
"Don't you think the angels are happy,
"I'll be watching and waiting in Heaven,
"For without Father and Mother in Heaven,
We sat and watched and waited,
The angels came for Rosie,
I've kept, and God's helped me in keeping,
So now you know why, I wouldn't part for the world,
I had to put it on a page of it's own. No one knows who wrote it. Though my cousins searched through
many libraries to find it, not a trace could be found. My Uncle learned it many years ago from a friend
and it became somewhat of a tradition at family get togethers for everyone to gather round quietly to hear
Uncle Herb recite it. (Mostly at my urgent pleading.)
My cousin, Linda, typed it out for me from a tape her Dad made reciting it, as he always did, from memory.
I'd like to thank her for that, I know it brought a few tears to her eyes, as it did to mine, but
I really wanted so much to share it.
My Uncle Herb possessed a photographic memory and knew the words to a great many poems and songs.
He was a wonderful piano player and loved to entertain us with his banjo and guitar and just about
any stringed instrument you could think of.
Uncle Herb died in 1985, but sometimes I can sit back and close my eyes and hear his voice echoing
through my mind accompanied by his wonderful upright piano.
Though my Uncle didn't write it, he made it his own by keeping it alive for others to enjoy.
Thanks Uncle Herb! The Blue Ribbon
such a faded strip of blue.
for a dozen fresh or new.
are folded in death's deep sleep.
of a promise I've got to keep.
some twenty years old, or more.
inside the tavern door.
like some of the chaps you meet.
the taste of the cup was sweet.
The beauty of Derby farm.
with her hanging on my arm.
her cheeks like the roses in June.
with our hearts singing, love's old tune.
she was good to the very core.
till I'd promise I'd drink no more.
but Alice knew how to win.
"or that tavern of drink and sin?".
as you know, if you love a lass.
I never would touch a glass.
she knew I would keep my word.
and the wedding bells were heard.
for seven short years or more.
came across our cabin door.
The light of our home was she.
it was she, at the age of three.
and it didn't take long to come.
and brought his new bride home.
a supper for workmen and wives.
the best time of all their lives.
Old master, arose from his chair.
to our newly married pair.
and drink with three times three.
and their journey o'er life's long sea.
with sparkling cherry wine.
I put my hand over mine.
"No wine, why nonsense Jim".
and pledge long life to him?"
though it was sore against my will.
and somehow I couldn't still,
that I should have made a stand.
and not removed my hand.
after the women had left that night.
were having a terrible fight.
with the old love drink newborn.
in the early summer's morn.
saw me in at the tavern door.
our home grew bare and poor.
My Rosie grew pale and weak.
nor miss, the bloom from their cheek.
and I never stopped to think.
And I was a slave to drink.
the blessing of God to seek,
when they'd been drinking, all the week.
my little Rosie ran.
and whispered "I've got a plan"
and mother and me."
please say you'll be home for tea."
her thin arms held me tight.
"I'll be home my lass, all right"
as soon as my work was done.
and again the tyrant won.
a dozen fellows or more.
till they got me inside the door.
till a boy rushed in like mad.
she is pining to she her Dad."
Mates, that sobered me.
I entered it silently.
where Rosie lay still and white.
"I knew you'd be home tonight"
you scarce could hear what she said.
and I bent o'er the little bed.
my tears fell down like rain.
when the horses tore down the lane"
"But Daddy I wanted you,."
and to wear this bit of blue".
when the book was given to me."
to ask you tonight at tea."
Here's pen and ink to write."
if I've known you've signed tonight."
and the dear Lord asks for you."
for you'll keep your promise true."
though I scarce could see what I wrote.
she pinned the blue to my coat.
Again the voice was heard.
God help me to keep to my word."
who was holding the golden head.
when they heard what Daddy said"
till the dear lord calls you to come."
it won't seem much like home."
till just in the morning's dawn.
and left us behind to mourn.
my promise both firm and true.
with this little bit of blue. 
Go HOME
Website by Dorothy Copyright © in Canada 1997