Sunday, December 12, 2010

Our Heritage

The melting pot
has wrought us all
in skin,
eyes, and hair.

And, kin we are.

We can’t deny
the ancient pull.
We can’t decry
when pipes are played
and mournful tunes
are sung.

Dennis Price


  1. I adore the pipes and my fair share of mournful tunes. Is that your dad with the autoharp?

  2. No Tess, Dad played the comb and tissue paper Kazoo or occasionally the mouth harp. :) Pappy

  3. Comb and tissue paper kazoo? Now that's my kinda music!

  4. Oh, by the way, that's me, Willow, in case you didn't recognize me! ;)

  5. No way I could forget my virtual visits to Willow Manor. I think I originally sent this poem to you in response to something you posted. Congratulations again on your poetry. I'm glad you decided to out yourself as a poet. I do continue to visit, but you now have 1500 + followers, with many commenting daily, so I just browse. I've cut back on my time on the net but I do enjoy reading many of your posts. Merry Christmas to you and all of your family. Pappy


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