SUNSETS

We’ve watched many sunsets together,

Since, long years, ago, when we were wed.

Though different, all of them were beautiful,

Some rose ones, some golden and some red.

The ones I’ve treasured most in those years,

Are the ones we’ve shared while holding hands.

You’ve watched sunsets in Hawaii,

While I, alone, watched sunsets at home.

Dreaming of the time when we’d again be together,

And no more, watch sunsets alone.

Now, the time has come since we’ve grown older,

To think about the changes that will come.

When because of happenings beyond our control,

One of us will again watch sunsets alone;

Because, either, you or I will, then be gone.

If I’m the one who happens to be left here---

To watch beautiful sunsets alone,

I’ll reach out to touch your hand---

Then quickly realize, you’re not here,

You’ve already made it home.

Written by Ruby Ray Boyett Burkett

With love to Alricks, my loving husband of more than sixty two years.

MY CLABBER GIRL COOKBOOK

“One Brides Best Friend “

I still have my first cookbook

Though I can’t remember where I got it.

When, as a new bride, I had to decide,

What to cook for the man I had married.

I’d been cooking the basics for years,

However, specialties still caused some fears.

But my Clabber Girl Book was all that it took,

 To make me a good dessert cook.

I began with pies…pecan, raisin and egg custard;

And at times, I became a bit flustered.

I made my own crust…in those days a must

There were no Pillsbury’s at the grocers.

I strictly followed the book, while striving to be a good cook.

 I knew I’d arrived when I finally realized,

I’d found the way to his heart….

Through his stomach

.

Ruby Ray Boyett Burkett

Remembering Tola

I still remember so vividly, it seems like yesterday;

When I’d come home from school one evening

And hear my Mother say, “Ruby, guess what?”

She didn’t have to tell me, I knew just what she’d say.

I could tell by the sparkle in her eyes,

She’d received a letter from Tola that day.

Over the years, letters had traveled,         

From Kentucky to Texas and back;

From Kentucky to George and Imelda,

From Texas to Tola and Jap.

In nineteen forty six, Imelda’s letters ended,

When her pen, by death, was stilled

So I began writing to Tola

As, another era began.

As Imelda’s eldest daughter;

I felt their dream should be fulfilled,

Of a continuous correspondence

As long as, one of them, lived.

Now, as my children came home,

From school, in the evenings;

They would hear their Mother say,

“Children, guess what---I had a

                                                                     Letter from Tola today!

Years passed and our love for her grew stronger.

In time, George and Jap passed on,

Then we began visiting Tola.

As she now lived alone.

Now there are no more letters

Or visits to Tola,

By death her pen too, has been stilled.

Though, we’re sad, Tola and Imelda

Must know their dream has been fulfilled.

                                                               By Ruby Ray Boyett Burkett

                                                                                                In memory of Tola Boyd Wheeler, Beloved

                                                                                                Pen-pal of Imelda Dougharty Boyett  

AN ACROSTIC TO ARCADIA IMELDA DOUGHARTY BOYETT

Always, Mother, I will hold you dear,

Remembering the “good deeds” you did when you were here,

Could never forget your loving care,

And your many sacrifices year after year.

Did you ever neglect us----No, no, no---

Indeed we came first---it had to be so.

And you never complained---no not one word.

In the short fifty-two years, you lived here on earth,

Many times you gave and gave, even in times of dearth.

Everyone, it seemed, depended on you.

Little did they realize, you needed help, too---

Down through the years, you struggled along,

And no one noticed, you were carrying a load.

But God up above saw you needed a rest,

Only He could know what for you would be best.

Your faithfulness to Him, didn’t go unnoticed,

Everything you did, He daily recorded,

Then when the proper time came,

Took you home to Heaven to be rewarded.

By Ruby Boyett Burkett

                                                         March 14, 2004

If there was ever a Christian Mother, mine was. She was the most self- sacrificing person I ever knew and I don’t remember her ever raising her voice to one of we children. I have a letter she wrote to a pen pal after we were all grown and gone. These were her words “the happiest days of my life were when my children were around my feet”. She was a real Mother! She was the best example a daughter could have and I only can hope I have been just half as good a mother as she was.

YANKEE SOLDIER WITHOUT A NAME

One hundred and thirty nine years he has lain here,

In a lonely unmarked  grave.

In the family cemetery of William Hawley Stark;

A casualty of a cruel war between the Northern and Southern States

Many have wondered,  who  he was, not knowing from

Whence he came,

But parents, somewhere, knew they had lost a son

They would never see again.

There was no Mother here to weep o’er his grave,

As  they laid him in the ground.

No Father, to mourn the loss of a son,

He had hoped to carry on his name.

But our caring patriarch, William Hawley Stark

Provided a burial site, 

Where they buried the lad on a cold winter day,

Beneath the towering  pines.

Here he has waited, so many long years;

And here he’ll continue to lie.

But after today, there will be a change,

And you will soon understand why.

Though buried in Texas---far, far from home

There are people here, who still care,

Who have diligently worked to bring

This dedication to pass---------so

To them, we give our applause!

Yes, the Yankee soldier will always lie here,

Where the Sabine River still flows by;

Where the pine trees, he once said he loved to hear roar,

Now whisper their lullabies.

Though he can boast of no fame, today there’s a change,

That-----------none can disclaim.

Forget about fame----The important thing is---

The Yankee soldier now has a name!

The name is David Chapin and the name David is special----

It simply means-----Beloved.

                          Ruby Ray Boyett Burkett

                             Written for the occasion of the dedication of a Civil War Monument, which was placed on his grave on, December 1, 2002.

LITTLE BOYS AND EASTER BASKETS

Tho’ your Easter basket days,

Have come and gone.

Our memories of those times

Still linger on.

Two little boys dressed in

New Easter clothes,

Putting eggs in their baskets,

As they toddle along.

 

Those memorable times,

We’ll never forget,

Tho’ you are now young men,

With other mind-sets----

You’re baskets being used for

other things.

Which, when we see, remind us, of

 long ago scenes.

                                                                                      By Ruby Burkett

 

BARBARA, OUR LITTLE PRINCESS

An acrostic

 

Barbara, our darling, we cherished you so,

All our love, on you we bestowed.

Rosy cheeked cherub with eyes all aglow,

Boyett and Burkett granddaughter we all doted on.

Always happy, you were a joy to me, I,

Ruby, your aunt, who was teaching you to sing,

And never dreaming, what the future would bring.

 

Just when we felt everything was fine,

Even then, God knew there was limited time,

And that all the family would soon be in grief,

Nothing to do but weep and cry as the lonely days pass by.

 

 

Beautiful darling, you so soon would be gone,

Only memories of you would linger on,

Your Mommy and Daddy were left alone,

Ever so lonely,, in an empty home.

Then two little boys, came to fill that space,

Though that didn’t mean they could take your place.

 

 

 

Written by Ruby Ray Boyett Burkett

The day this child died on the day she would have been nineteen months old, was one of the saddest days the Burkett and Boyett families ever experienced.

 

She was the daughter of Eugene Peavy Boyett and Pauline Burkett Boyett.

Granddaughter of George Peavy Boyett and Imelda Dougharty Boyett and Simon Henry Burkett and Devillie Jeffers Burkett.

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE KIDS OF TODAY                

 

There were four people from Vietnam

That traveled hard and traveled long.

To inspect the students in the U. S. of A.

So they could see what they did from day to day.

 

The first person took one glance and to her surprise,

The students had rings just shy of their eyes.

Their hair defied the law of science,

And their hand must’ve stuck in an electrical appliance.

 

Person number two, looked on amazed,

But the strange look on his face just never phased,

Except for when he said their brain must be

The size of a small insignificant pea,

Or maybe their brains not a brain at all,

It may be a rock or a three-pound ball.

A third person said, that was stricken with awe.

You mean around here that’s not breaking the law.

 

To dress like that and parade in the streets

I also thought kid’s pants should cover their seats.

These kids learn their math by squaring their size,

To show other people a great big surprise.

 

A fourth person said, with fear in his eye,

They’re joining gangs but I sure don’t know why.

 They now have guns that they carry to school,

And apparently they think it’s really quite cool,

To commit murder and cast it away

As if it was just one other day.

 

These Vietnamese all said with a sigh,

These American kids are just getting by,

But the leaders of tomorrow are the kids of today,

and I’m not taking that chance there isn’t a way.

 

The moral here is plain as day,

                                                 In every form in every way.   

The students need to heed my word,

Or their morals today will be put to the sword.

 

A school assignment by:      Ashton Burkett