Poems and Stories

Family, if you have poems or stories that you or a family member created, please share your talent  with us here.  All submissions must be a creation of a Lowe family line.  Include the description and the artist’s name. You can send a copy to

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by Mary Louisa Powell Lowe

Spring comes knocking at our door

We bid her welcome in.

While winter, standing just behind

Tries to hide a grin.

We lay aside our winter wraps

We even make our garden.

When winter steps forth again

Not even asking pardon.

With cruel icy fingers

He takes us by the ear.

You can rush the work of man along

But not the seasons of the year.


Discovering Christmas

By: Jennifer Dees 

The kids would run outside and play in the snow;

I would ask myself “Will they ever know?”

Every year Christmas came, and every year it was the same,

They would eat candy day and night,

On Christmas morning what a sight!

The cookies would come as a surprise,

and disappear before my eyes,

They would open the presents without much delay,

that time would go by without much to say,

Each one was excited to see what they got,

and never quite happy with what I had bought,

They would be giggling in the night,

without ever letting me turn off the light,

They would pretend to sleep when I came near,

and wait for Santa Claus to appear,

When asked what Christmas truly meant,

one would say how much was spent,

Another would tell me what Santa Claus brought,

or finding the presents without getting caught,

It was time to talk, that much I knew,

they needed to learn before Christmas was through,

So I told them all, everyone, when I was younger, it wasn’t so fun:

“I remember the days when I was a kid,

everyone was grateful for the things that I did,

I had not many presents or sweets;

I didn’t get those kinds of treats”

They would say “Were you being bad?

Did you push kids around and make them all sad?”

“No I did not, and that is the thing,

it wasn’t the gifts Santa would bring,

It was being nice and acting good,

I kept a promise just like I should,”

They laughed and said “So that is all you put on your list?”

“No, I asked that the true meaning of Christmas would never be missed, I asked for a family and kids I could love,

I asked for a blessing, a gift from above,

I wished for health, with a job that would keep us going,

and my children to grow up, forever always knowing,

Christmas isn’t only a time for presents and toys,

not for the wanting girls and boys,

But to love and to cherish, and to care,

I asked for God’s blessings everywhere.”

They were silent with amazement;

I had finally gotten through,

I asked if they wanted to know what else was true,

All in agreement, we sat by the tree,

together; they would listen to me,

“Up in heaven, the angels would sing, for Christ was born, our newborn king…”


Written by: Jennifer JoRae Dees (Jennifer wrote ” Discovering Christmas” in 2008 at the age of 15.)



A School Called Jeff

by: Shelly Erickson

          “OH LORD,” I prayed on bended knee…
“A mother Lord, you’ll let me be.

           A precious spirit from above,
who needs a home and lots of love.

           I’ll try to keep him safe and warm,
and protect him Lord from any harm.”

          “My child, I’ll send you not just one…
but many children here will come.

           Children will come to you in part…
not from the womb but from the heart.

          They’ll come to you both big and small,
with broken spirits they will call.

           You’ll need to comfort, calm their fears,
and wipe away their saddened tears.

           Unlike a skinned and bandaged knee,
their wounds are deep, and hard to see.

          So shelter , feed, and keep them warm,
and love them through lifes bitter storm.

           I cannot say how long they’ll stay…
your job’s to help them on their way.

           They’ll put your patience to the test,
and all I ask, is do your best.”

           “Thank you Lord, your wish fulfill…
I’ll try my best to do thy will.”

           With that the Lord then did depart,
His message swelled within my heart.

           I only hope that I can be…
the “Mother” that He sees in me.

           To stand before Him meek and mild,
and have Him say, “Well done my child.”

Written by: Shelly Erickson
 Mothers Day “2000”

Faith Will Set Me Free

by Jennifer JoRae Dees

As I look around I wish to be free, to run and to flee,
I wonder why someone has taken me,
I sit in the cold, cold room, it is winter when no flowers bloom,
I try to be brave but it feels as if I’m sitting in a cave, and it is hard to behave,
What is this I see, a window, I will soon be free,
I am out and there is nowhere to go, when all of the sudden wings start to grow,
I am now an angel with wings like a dove,
I fly up high into the sky, and watch the clouds float by,
I fall asleep on a cloud as white as snow,
When I awake I see a glow, an angel came to me and said
“The cloud took you to heaven, how old are you?” and I said “seven”,
I was so glad there was nothing here that was bad,
“I shall live here!” I said with a tear as I looked at my wings through a mirror.
If you want to find me, here I will be, and because of my faith and courage my heart set me free.

Written by: Jennifer JoRae Dees (Jennifer wrote “Faith will set me free” in 2005 at the age of 12)

Beneath The Willow Tree
by Shelly L. Erickson

She placed it gently in his hand
a willow sprig so new
they planted it there in the sand
under the sky so blue
He was barely 6 you see
and she had just turned four
they swore best friends they’d always be
for now and evermore
The springtime rain had sprinkled dew
beneath the willow tree
and as they grew the tree did too
for all the world to see
He reached down and made a ring
of dandelion fair
then gathered flowers by the spring
to decorate her hair
The stars all twinkled up above
it was a wondrous sight
their friendship blossomed into love
that warm mid summer night
They carved a heart upon a branch
He held her tenderly
their love was etched for all to glance
beneath the willow tree
As autumn winds began to blow
among those crimson boughs
both hand in hand with hearts aglow
they said their wedding vows
They pledged their love forever true
to always faithful be
they smiled and then both said “I do”
beneath the willow tree
A family now they had become
with little ones in tow
with ponytails and bubblegum
to set their hearts aglow
The days soon swiftly turned to years
their children moved away
memories brought back smiles and tears
as brown hair turned to grey
She gazed into his loving eyes
and he in hers as well
they sat and watched their last sunrise
just as the snowflakes fell
The winter sun set in the west
glowing eternally
together now they’re laid to rest
beneath the willow tree
*~~~*Written by: Shelly L. Erickson
Tuesday. December 17, 200

To my Pet Magpie Jake

by Mary Louisa Powell Lowe

Why do people hate you so And call you such a pest?

They drive you from your native haunts and destroy your young and nests. 

I know not what your life may be while roaming wild and free,

But you have been a gentle bird while living here with me. 

I rescued you from two bad boys. You were too weak to walk.

They said that they would split your tongue and teach you how to talk. 

But I just nursed you back to health and shielded you from harm,

And you’ve repaid me many times as we strolled around the farm. 

‘Tis hard to believe the great amount of insects you would kill

I’ve watched you catch and bury them when you had had your fill.


And when I lost my favorite brooch all set with pearls so neat

‘Twas you who found it in the grass and dropped it at my feet. 

‘Tis you who called the chickens in and laughed as at a joke.

There is no music in your voice, just a rough uncultured croak. 


Ray to Lois
by Elden Ray Lowe

As time goes on and events are gone,
Things we feel and hear and see;
We would like to go back; Ah but a-lack;
they are now only memory.

But places and things and human beings
Are still in the heart and mind.
And if we could measure all of our pleasure,
Memories are the best we would find.
I think I’ll go back on my memory track
To see what I can see;
Here my memory is hazy or a little lazy,
I think it gets that from me.

Ah, there is a light; Now it gets bright,
Though it’s focus is not too clear.
But it’s the first I see and the closest to me,
It’s my wonderful Mother so dear.

I’ll turn forward the clock; Look coming up the walk,
I must hurry and comb my hair;
You ask “Who is it that has came to visit?”
Well it’s Lois coming there.

Yes it’s Lois Jean, My childhood Queen;
I hoped it would always be Lois and Ray;
But it was my love that she gave a shove
Whenever Dick came walking her way.

It was awful to see when she rejected me
And I thought I would loose the fight;
But there was always hope that with him I could cope.
And become her favorite.

I think it’s things like notes on strings
That make her seem so near;
I hope she does remember just after each December;
Our kisses for the New Year.

We had secrets, She and I;
It was only She who knew I could fly;
That Dick could try in vain.
And it was I alone, no one else had known
That she is Lois Lane.

Sometimes we took a chance, The place we went to dance;
The law may not think it fair.
How I admired her face in that “dark secret” place,
too bad others were there.

When my Lois does marry, who will be the
one to carry her away?
And when she is grown will her character be known?,
Will it continue to change or stay?

When she tied the knot, the man she got
She said is like a Prince of way back when;
And my happiness was told when her “blue moon” turned to gold,
To think, it might have “Ben”.

I used to worry that some day, we would drift away;
And at times that day seemed near;
When her personality would change to the extremes of it’s range,
Or when myself, a nascence, would appear.

But in recent days that’s not the scene: Everything is serin.
I long to see her on the walk to my house;
I’d hurry and comb me hair, Then I’d welcome her there;
As would the Trio be welcomed by Mystery Mouse.
I am not a poet, as you can tell; I did not write this very well.
I’m afraid my best are lines like these;
But please accept it from cousin Ray; It is only meant to say,
Thank you for the memories.

Elden Ray Lowe

Ray wrote this poem for Lois Jean Bartholomew in the mid 60’s

What was I before I was born.
Was I in heaven like some people say
or another being then died away
then born to be me to this very day.

Sarah Louise Lowe Dees
(Sarah was born on 1957 this poem was written when Sarah was 8 years old)

A Grownup Today?

 Hey! Hey! Hey! I hear you say, you wanna be a grownup today,
 Well you can’t run as fast and your hearing doesn’t always last,
 You don’t have a birthday party, but if you do be sure and invite me, Ya!
 Don’t you see, you have to go to work, you don’t have time to play,
 Hey! Hey! Did I hear you say you wanna be a grownup today,
 well you have to clean your house and you got to watch out for a sneaky little mouse,
 Hey! Hey!  Did I hear you say you wanna be a grownup today,
 well ok, but you got to deal with children too, ha! That go you!

By: Jennifer JoRae Dees
Jennifer wrote “A Grownup Today” in October 2004 at the age of 11.

1 / 1 / 2000
by Samantha Strong

A celebration of the existence
of a world that holds everyone.
A holiday for all of time. For the human calendar.
For what we call a clean slate.
Will we, us, you and I, and everyone
wipe our slate, or scrub it?
Will we wish we had scrubed when we find the same
dust from long ago piling up more rapidly?
Will we learn? Will we change?
Will we grow as a society, because we grow as people?
Do you? Can you? Will you learn to love your fellow sinners?
Though none can know the secrets of the future…
We can face what comes…

Samantha Strong
(Samantha was born on 1987 & goes lives in Batavia Ohio.
She also has a poem published in Spring issue of Children’s Writing Magazine.)

At the Grave
(parts 1 and 2)

by: Shelly L. Erickson 


he knelt down by her headstone
and wiped away a tear
“I know it’s been awhile now
since mother brought us here”.

“I think about you often
but hold it all inside,
because it really hurts to think
about the day you died”. 

“I never meant to cause you pain
I love you baby sis
I know it was an accident
why does it hurt like this”?

“you were only one years old
And I was only seven
it’s hard to think it’s been 5 years
since God took you to heaven”.

“sometimes I cry alone at night
because I miss you so
I know your watching over me
the angels told me so”.

“I miss you baby Jordan
one more thing before I go
I love you more than life it’s self
just wanted you to know”.



sadly he approached the grave
he didn’t make a sound
he gently brushed the leaves away
then sat there on the ground

he ran his fingers cross the words
engraved there on the stone
“remember me? it’s been awhile
I know that I have grown”

“I’m in first grade” he whispered
“I ride the bus there too
and sometimes even save a place
right next to me, for you”

“remember all the times we played
and watch the falling snow?
we had a language all our own
oh how I miss you so”.

“I wonder where you are now
if you have wings to fly
and why I cannot see you
and why you had to die”.

he bent down and laid a kiss
on her grave beneath the tree
a single flower there he laid
“to you Jordan, from me”.


These were both written on the 5th year anniversary of Jordans death. I took the boys to her grave and this is what happened while there Written by: Shelly L. Erickson
September 25, 2002

Something New
By: Jennifer JoRae Dees

Everyday I look and see something new that’s meant to be.
Everyday there’s something new.
Its either happy, ok or blue.
New flowers might of been planted in the ground.
Creating a garden all around.
Someone could make up a new game to play.
Somebody could make up a new language to say.
Whatever is new try to make the best of it everyday.

Two lost Arts

By Lois Jean Lowe Bartholomew

     How long has it been since I heard someone say they were going Bummin; or gaddin”? I

 wonder? Probably not since Mama died. People just don’t seem to do those sorts of things anymore. Life is too speeded up a for such leisurely undertaking. But Mama, in her time, well, she was a Pro.

If you have never hear of Bummin or Gaddin,

well, let me tell you about them. I am not completely sure of just what characteristics distinguish one from another, but I believe that Bumming involved simply going, looking, hunting, taking in the sights and sounds; that sort of thing.  Often it involved walking down to town and window shopping, maybe peeking in the stores to see what was new, smelling and touch and maybe even tasting, if you happened to have enough change in your pocket for an ice cream,

a drink or some peppermints. Mama always seemed to be in a good mood when she was Bummin’. Maybe that is why I always loved to go with her. There was never a rush or and seldom even definite destination. Just Bummin’!

Sometimes Mama’s bummin if we were walking, would take us along the railroad
tracks, down town, down by the creek, ditch wading, to the pasture, hunting asparagus along the roadside, discovering watery places where water cress grew, where ever it seems right to her at the time. For me it was always an adventure.

The only thing that was more fun to do with Mama besides bummin’ was Gaddin’.
and believe me, she was even better at that!

Gaddin’? Well, the one thing that distinguished it from bummin’ was people and
conversation. While I loved just being present to listen in on all the reminiscing, joking and story-telling when she was with neighbors or relatives, the most fun for me, was when she got together with her old fiends from high school. Monta & Erma Fullmer and Ada Taylor were 3 of the most fascinating and hilarious women I was ever around. I would laugh till I cried. Mama always seemed so happy when she was able to get together with them.    

Everyone hustles these days, never knowing
that they are missing out on
two of life’s most satisfying pastimes,
Bummin’ and Gaddin’.

Never Give a Snowman Legs

By Jennifer Dees


Yesterday I made three snowballs exactly the right size

And added some buttons for the mouth and eyes

After that I found a carrot and used it for the nose

Two sticks were arms and fingers but I left out legs and toes

“Excuse me?” said the snow man in a very polite voice

It startled me- I’d never heard such noise

“I believe you’ve forgotten something.” said he

“But I gave you a nose to smell and eyes to see.”

“But what will I do without my legs and feet and toes?

You can’t forget that- everybody knows.”

I pondered this for a while and decided something clear:

“You’ll have to live outside and never leave from here.”

“But I don’t want that.” Said the snowman

“I want to do what people can.

I want to jump and spin and run.

Why do those with legs get to have more fun?”

I stared at the snowman, so sad and alone

I felt the need to comfort his gloomy tone

So I quickly decided to bend down low

And gather up a bunch of snow

I placed it all at the snowman’s end

Went right to work and started to mend

Within a few minutes I was complete

He then smiled and stomped his feet

“Yippee, yippee!” he shouted with glee

And we danced in a circle, the snowman and me

Soon it became late and the snow had gotten deep

I knew that it was time for me to go to sleep

“Goodnight snow man, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodbye boy.” He said without any sorrow

I slept well that night as I thought

About what memories that day brought

In the morning I jumped out of bed

And burst out the door “Snowman!” I said

But I stopped in my tracks for he was gone

I checked my house and the lawn

But he had vanished without a trace

A frown began to show on my face

Later I discovered from watching TV

He had hopped on a plane and fled the country

He had tried to rob an ice cream store

And would be a criminal forever more

So even if your snowman begs

Remember, never give him legs

Listen to what I have to say

Or your snowman may just walk away