Poem "To George W. Wood" Printed in 1935

Poem “To George W. Wood”. Printed in 1935

TO GEORGE W. WOOD

I didn't hear his jovial call

Today at break of dawn;

He didn't wish “Good mornin: to

My dad across the lawn.

I didn't see him in the yard

Nor hear him at our door

To bring the morning paper from

the office. Never more.

They say I'll never see him leave again

That cozy home next door

To work an hour at gardening,

Or linger in the store.

For a word about the weather; to

Discuss late politics,

Or just to chat with neighbors.

How he'd chuckle at the tricks.

That a favorite dog would play with him.

Our Don had a beaten path

Straight across his cherished garden, yet

Don never stirred his wrath.

“Well, I guess that's right,” he used to say

To many and many a thing;

And they say I'll never hear it; ne'er

Again his voice will ring

On a clear and frosty morning, or

Above a roaring storm,

Or when summer days are sultry, or

When spring's cool days grow warm.

He has gone “to be with Mary”, where

I know he longed to be;

Lonely George; good, princely neighbor.

But it's quite a loss to me!

Author unknown.

On the 1920 Census there was a George W. Wood, 59, and his wife, Mary, living
in Burlington, Otsego County, NY.  He was born in England and was a farmer.  In 1935, he would have been 74 years old.

 Transcribed from a

scrapbook in the Mary Boice Gale Collection.