Josie’s Ledger

I shared a poem written by my 2nd great grandfather, Washington Marion Crawford. While discussing this poem with my cousins, one shared a comment about his having a copy of Josie’s ledger of poetry. This comment reminded me that I have the actual ledger. In remembering this ledger, I realized that I hadn’t done enough to share with future generations.

When the Internet was young, I did transcribe some of these poems and contributed them to the Kansas Memory project. However, I did not submit all of the poems. Evidently, I also had never scanned the ledger. I have since scanned the ledger and created a document with the scanned image on the left and the transcription on the right. This PDF file has been uploaded as a memory to Josie Hammond’s profile on FamilySearch. I’ve also uploaded Josie’s Ledger to Thus, I’m hoping that her ledger will be preserved well into the future.

The Little Gray House

There’s a little gray house nestled down ‘neath the trees
It has stood there many a year.
And the roses blooming ’round the yard
Send their perfume far and near
And a gray hair woman sits alone
On the porch when the day is done.
And softly croons a lullaby
As she thinks of the absent ones.
For there was a time when the house was new
With its trees so young and small.
It so o’erflow with riotous youth
It scarce could hold it all
For often would the wall resound
With girlish laughter sweet
And there were sturdy boyish shouts
And the patter of baby feet
There came schooldays hurrying by
With the scramble for book and slate,
And the frantic search for coat and cap
For fear they would be late.

Then when school days are over,
Each takes up his own task.
Then by the window a coffin stands
For death comes in masked
Then the house sees happy brides
Going out to make new homes
so one by one they leave the nest
Till mother sits alone.
But once again the walls resound
With girlish laughter sweet,
And there are sturdy boyish shouts
And the patter of baby feed.
And the gray haired woman is busy now
No longer she sits alone
But still she hums a lullaby
For the grandchildren are at home.