Mary D. Stone (1909-1977)<\/p>\n
Mary Elizabeth Diver married Garland Stone in Rush, NY, outside of Rochester, in 1928. They lived in various towns in southern New York State where Garland worked as a veterinary surgeon. They had three daughters. After retirement they spent winters in Tucson, Arizona. Mary’s poems are of everyday things, the small wonders of Nature she saw around her. She expressed her pleasure in rhyme with a dash of humor.<\/p>\n
——–
\nDouglass lineage: Garland-7, Harriet
\nStone-6, J.Hubert-5, J.Chester-4, James-3, John-2, Alexander Douglass-1
\n——–<\/p>\n
It’s Lambing Time<\/strong><\/p>\n It’s lambing time, The feet are black, In The Sugar Bush<\/strong><\/p>\n The maple tree just felt a tap To An Early Bee<\/strong><\/p>\n Intelligent bee, You buzzed around Then helped yourself Maytime<\/strong><\/p>\n The cows are having a picnic, Their ear tags glisten like jewels, Spring Rain<\/strong><\/p>\n The barnyard is wet and muddy, The farmers are late with planting, Mary D. Stone (1909-1977) Mary Elizabeth Diver married Garland Stone in Rush, NY, outside of Rochester, in 1928. They lived in various towns in southern New York State where Garland worked as a veterinary surgeon. They had three daughters. After … Continue reading
\nIt’s lambing time,
\nHere comes that urgent feeling
\nTo see the wobbly ones again.
\nThe lambs are so appealing!<\/p>\n
\nThe wool is new,
\nThe tail is really shaking!
\nThe black nose nudges mother ewe,
\nAnd leaves this shepherd quaking!<\/p>\n
\nAnd then received a spout,
\nThe bucket now is filled with sap,
\nAnd more is running out.
\nSo come and gather quickly, men,
\nThen boil the syrup down.
\nIts amber sweetness taste again,
\nThe pride of Sugartown!<\/p>\n
\nHow did you know
\nThat the crocus would open?
\nWho told you so?<\/p>\n
\nThe delicate cup
\nAnd sensed the moment
\nIt opened up!<\/p>\n
\nAnd sipped your fill
\nTill the crocus closed
\nIn an April chill.<\/p>\n
\nEating outdoors today
\nOn the tender greens of the pasture,
\nDelicious in early May!<\/p>\n
\nThe sunshine warms them through,
\nAnd they answer the red-winged black birds
\nWith a deep contralto, “Moo”.<\/p>\n
\nBut the meadows are turning green.
\nThe rain has a dismal patter,
\nBut the roof tops are shining clean.<\/p>\n
\nThe ground is too wet for grain,
\nBut I’ve been to the desert country;
\nI will never deplore the rain!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"