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Saturday, December 4, 2010

In Memory of Herbert C. Morris: For Our Cousins Mariana, Jeanne, Susan, Catherine and Ellen

When the tallest tree ascends toward heaven,
its boughs form a broad and splendid arbor
which shelters and shades within its beloved
reach all the birds, critters, and gentle beings
like the mousie in the Bobby Burns poem
or the angel of an old lullaby.
"What's the name of that poet?" Ah yes, Lord
Alfred Tennyson. "That's right, Brother Herbert."

A grandfather, big brother, first born child.
Oh my, how intelligent! Is he smart!
Raised through the Depression, a doctor's son,
born to Edith and who worked hard for an
education then when he married, Aunt
made him a Crown of Five-Petalled Flowers.

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