Subject: Down Memory Lane with Uncle Royle - 2

It was November & December 1974 when Uncle Royle was diagnosed with cancer and spent time in the hospital at Iowa City, Iowa, receiving treatments. My mother, my sisters, my daughter & I all set to with a poetic letter writing campaign to keep him cheered up.  I will share some of these letters with you now.  The exact sequence of the letters can't be determined.  Just have to guess at that.          Sharon

THE CHAMP IS DOWN

The Champ is down, taking the count

Everyone yelling, Suspense beginning to mount

Charlotte gave him a letter that sent him to the floor

Then crafty Sharon gave him two more

Sly Carol sent in one real neat

Staggering around in a daze

Going to the hospital in six more days

Those letters and poems have kept him

Feeling better and full of vim

And when that hospital I get out

I will take a cup of coffee and shout

"Harrison, get your big bottle of bear

And we'll find out which has the cheer!"                      Note:  Uncle Royle didn't drink coffee and my father, Harrison, didn't drink beer.  It was always a joke between them.

We will see who is the first to fall.

Yeah, I am beginning to feel alright

I am just beginning to fight

In fighting with words I want you to know

I'm full of bull poop from the word go.

All my life I have spread the B.S. around

Wore out several spreaders covering the ground

Now there is two kinds we use on the land

One kind is weak but use it we must

That kind id referred to as hiefer dust

The soil enricher that never fails

Is the Bull S.... that comes from the male

Like the old bull, battered around,

I am still going to stand my ground.

I enjoyed last Wednesday night

Helped make me think everything's going to be alright

Now there is one thing I did enjoy

Sharon's two and George's boy

I'll bet they have fun, vigor and vim

When they go together for a swim

I can't help being partial to little girls

That snuggle up to me with head full of curls

Sing happy songs, then give me a kiss

My girls are gone. That's what I miss.

For a little while I had that again

Gave me the pleasure of an old refrain

Now, for Crystal's little girl, sweet and shy

Splitting image even to the eye.

A little present to reward her for a kiss

Those I got from Crystal I sure miss

But time passes on, leaves us to cry,

I realize that we love each other, each and all,

And that my loved ones is the best news of all

Spoon river Poet

Hope to see you March or April

Dear Uncle Royle,

I have thought of you each day,

Looking forward to a letter.

Hoping it would say

How much you are feeling better

The treatments you talk about

I hope they make you well

Sorta hard on the snout

When its all over it will be swell

Gee Whiz I sure regret

Such a time you have had

To this misfortune you have met

It surely makes me sad.

When these granddaughters you do see

Such love I know is there

So lucky they must be

For Grandpa sure does care

Such pride yu must feel

When the saws they do play

At last it is for real

And these girls have talent to stay

I wondered if you had heard from England

From the authors of the book

Hoping to see your name in

The next edition that I look

Got a bit of bad news today

Learned a lay-off is on the way

And soon I shall be among the unemployed

Sorta rough I must say to find a job today.

Hope the Lord above

Will look down with love

And send a job my way

That I may earn some pay

For children that count four

Need supported, that's for sure.

That husband who left one day

Never looked back this way.

The daughter he left behind

She is so sweet and kind.

This man she once called Dad

The only one she ever had

He forgot he ever had her

No thoughts No regrets,

A rat he is for sure.

Hope to cheer you up today

But a little blue I feel

Bad news hit me today

And besides flat is my car wheel

Shirts of 3 done and painted.

Daryl nearly fainted.

Home on leave he came for a week

And his gift, I gave him early a peek

Such a shirt he'd never seen

And in February, he'll be eighteen.

Back to California, he did go

From a baby I watched him grow

Now a sailor boy is he

In a ship he sails across the sea.

I do love your words of ryhme

To write to you, I'll find the time

To cheer you up, I'll do my best.

So glad you'll soon be home to rest

With the family you love so much

To enjoy your granddaughters,

Listen to music and such

With love from Your Niece,

Sharon

Dear Sharon,

As usual I was glad to hear from you

You still have that poetic touch

To get one like it is your due.

I haven't felt like reading writing and such

To write poetry is kinda hard to do

The treatments are kinda hard on my nose.

My mouth is sore and so are my eyes.

I don't get relief when my nose I blows.

And my eyes look like.... when I cries.

Many beautiful nurses legs here do I see

As they stroop over while making the bed

I'll quit looking after I'm dead.

Tomorrow night, Paula and June to Roseville will go,

To give the Senior Citizens of that town a Program

They will always know

With Beer Barrel Polka as a hoe down

Played by a blindfolded 12 year old girl

Then the Beautiful Skaters Waltz to hear

Now there is two musical saws to keep

Your head in a whirl.

One is to be played with two bows

She was taught how by her Grandpa

Paula at the piano and June will sing

Hymns that will give your spirit a lift

To old weary people, a peace it will bring

Those two girls have that rare gift

To make you think of god above.

A few more words to Rhyme

Before I say next time

I am getting better day by day

Thirteen more treatments then home to stay

Home one month then come back

While they sharpen their tools to whack

Then home again to recuperate

Then back again for check up is my fate.

I want to go to Arizona, my Leila to see

To keep me cheered up, please write to me

Take a few words, mix them up

Put all together in a big cup

Then pick them out, one at a time

Danged if you aint got a rhyme.

Royle Helle

            November 19th and 20the, 1974

Dear Uncle Royle,

I could send you a flower, or a get well card

Or write you a poem if I tried real hard.

Just want you to know, you're on my mind

Hope the doctors and nurses are treating you kind.

My dad, without thinking, for live rabbits he bought

For Thanksgiving dinner, or so he thought

With knife in had, and rabbits in tow,

The grandchildren cried, "Oh Granddad,  Oh No!!!"

So rabbit is out, and turkey is in.

With eleven grandchildren he just couldn't win

So I now own four white rabbits in a cage

Waiting for them to die of a ripe old age.

Hope he doesn't buy any more meat,

Not when it's walking on all four feet.

The families all well, I'm happy to say,

And hope your feeling better each day.

You'll soon be out, and traveling about

And feeling much better, I have no doubt.

I hope this poem has brought you cheer

For as an Uncle, you're awfully dear.

To read your poems was quite a treat

And you play a mean saw, which is quite a feat

An author, a poet, a musical man you are

With family that loves you, both near and far.

So please take care and try to rest,

For we all think you're one of the best.

With Love,

  Your Niece,

   Carol