Cyclone Bill and the Doll's Eyes

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Open Poetry #12

Cyclone Bill and the Doll's Eyes

Trillium

Member Patricius

since 2001-03-09

Posts 12098
Idaho, USA

0 posted 2001-03-17 11:34 PM

We had a bent, old gard'ning man
When I was just a child,
Who'd lost his home and memory
Within a cyclone, wild.
But who he was before that day,
No one would ever know
And he came to live at our place,
To help the flowers grow.
My father called him Cyclone Bill
And that became his name.
He never had too much to do
To join me in some game.
One day my Grandpa came to stay
And brought me a surprise.
A doll, with curly, golden hair
And lovely, sky-blue eyes.
I ran outside to show her to
Cyclone Bill, my friend.
I fell and broke the pretty head
There was no way to mend.
Bill helped me up and dried my tears.
The doll's eyes he retrieved
And told me then this fairytale,
That I unquestioning, believed.
"You know potato eyes will grow
Potato plants," said he.
"Now doll's eyes grow the nicest dolls
That ever you did see!"
So underneath a rosebush, fair,
We planted those blue eyes
And every day I watered them
To help the doll plant rise.
And then one glorious morning,
Upon that precious spot,
There stood a doll as beautiful
As one my Grandpa got!

This is based on an incident in my mother's childhood.

Previously published by Mile High Poetry Society and
Grandmother Earth IV

Betty Lou Hebert

[This message has been edited by Trillium (edited 03-17-2001).]

Joyce Johnson

Member Rara Avis

since 2001-03-10

Posts 9912
Washington State

1 posted 2001-03-17 11:39 PM

Oh how wonderful. This is a different style for you, but I loved it. I always wondered where old Bill came from. He lived at my house and carried a big bag on his back when I was a small child. Joyce

Trillium

Member Patricius

since 2001-03-09

Posts 12098
Idaho, USA

2 posted 2001-03-17 11:44 PM

Thank you Joyce. This story always intrigued me. My mother was about 5 years old when this happened. She certainly never forgot it!

Betty Lou Hebert

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