Music to My Ears: Poems That Span over Seven Decades

By Minnie Wren

This compilation of writings spans seven decades of poems and limericks inspired by all manner of subjects and people that Minnie Wren came across during her life. Her works are listed in the index at the beginning of the book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Aug 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477141724

Minnie Wren

Minnie Wren was born I South Africa in 1917. Her father was a school teacher and her mother a housewife. She married in Johannesburg in 1942. She had a love for poetry from an early age and wrote poems on any subject that came to mind. This work is a tribute to the cultural heritage that she has left her five children and their descendants.

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 by Minnie Wren.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 03/08/2016

Xlibris

800-056-3182

www.Xlibrispublishing.co.uk

518166

Contents

Minnie Irene Wren neé Jackson

MINNIE IRENE JACKSON

Wishful Thinking

My Poems

Inheritance

Such is a Rebel

Two Faced

My Favourite Fruit

Greed Doesn’t Pay

Witch Confused

Fruity

And

Rhyme

Beestly

Those Parents

Henrietta’s Cold

Lovelorn Swain

To Aubrey

I Met My Man

MINNIE WREN

Not like Mother’s

First Attempt

My Firstborn

Achievement

The Lost Toy

Teach Your Children

Habit

Sensible Me

Reflections on Wartime

Poison to the Liver

Dutch Courage

League of Nations

Letter Home

Scandalous

Youth and Age

Something Nauseous

Take a Plain Guy

Mr. Right?

The ‘Other’ Woman

Divorce is a Stigma

For the Adulterer

If and But

God’s Mills Grind Slow

There was a Man

Of the Moon

My Friend Mary

Rules

To a Marguerite Daisy

Some Grains of Gold

Count the Cost

God Provides

Sundays, after Dinner

Children are a Blessing

Ode to Maturity

A Deserted Wife’s Lament

Heard on the Bus

Old-fashioned Values

The Creeping Death

Hooray It’s Gone

Strange Encounter

Limericks

A Nice Guy.

Swear it

A Tip for Gardeners

Quite a Silly Word

Johannesburg Harriers Athletic Club

The Best Club

The Fastest Runners

Winners All

M O T H E R

Regrets

I recall

Young at Heart

Philanderer

Angie and Books

Vexing Memory

Unconfirmed Marvel

Imagination

Envy

Send Your Request

First letter—A Bad Buy

The Sewing Machine Saga

First Reply

Second Letter

Second Reply

Debbie’s Desires

Advertisements

Impressive ‘Garden City’

Dearest Dad on Father’s Day

Dubitable Poet

The Referendum

Election Slogans

Campaign Slogans

My Surname

Good for Evil

Dear Brian & Marietjie

Metaphor Love

True Friendship

Tribute to a Teacher at Damelin

To Neville

Just Dessert

For Mum

Narrow Escape

Adapted—For Karen

To Alison and Josè

They Don’t Believe Me—1995

Breakaway

Travelling Companions

More Limericks

Rhymes for a Gift

Art Book

China Dolls

Easel

Oil Paints

Printer’s Tray

Script Pen

Skates

21st Key

Watch

Wood Carving Set

Water Paints

CHRISTIAN

Conversion

Last Call

Bridle the Tongue

The Bread of Life

The Volume Divine

For Busy People

Spiritual Comfort.

Somebody Else

Too Busy

No Time

Time

The Boy’s Best Book

Visit of a New Religion.

Redemption

The Gospel of Safe Driving

A Driver’s Prayer

We Must Testify

On Philippians 4:8

God’s in Control

A Home

A Book for all Tastes.

The Listening Disciple

The Jewish Faith

Joseph

Something Freely Given

My Master

The Easter Story

My walk with Jesus

Our Lord’s Parables

The Spiritual Railway

Don’t Spare the Rod

No Longer a Heathen

SOUTH HILLS BAPTIST

God Wants Change

She has Gone

Unappreciated

Our Ladies’ Fellowship

Epic of South Hills B.W.A.

Part-time Pastor

Letter to a Former Pastor

A Faithful Warrior

Cast Your Votes

Best Women Anywhere

Farewell Mrs Strydom

Congratulations

To a Wonderful Couple

Our Church Moderator

The Pryors

Pollyanna

To God be the Glory

To Rex Mathie

AGM Voting Time Again

Bless our Anniversary

Views

Norman Flowers

A Tribute to the Oliviers

B.W.A.—A.G.M.

Opening Choruses

Open in Prayer

Business at Hand

Collection

Minutes

Financial Report

Elections

Dedication

Thanks to Retiring Committee

Closing Message

Closing Prayer

Closing Song

Best Wishes

A Wise Decision

Ladies Too Can Serve

South Hills Baptist Church.

Some of the folks in S.H.B.C. Congregation

Our Student Pastor

To Walter o’Maarch

Our Spiritual Home

An Oldster’s Testimony

Dear Gladys

Farewell Winnie

Our Church Magazine

JOY

Old Man Kraus

A Very Special Nurse

Nora Lean

Fashion Conscious

An Ideal Wife

Wedded Bliss

Illusive Fortune

Betsy Swart

C.W. Hutton

Gillian Waring

Isobel Schultz

Famous Jamous.

Norma Marx

Percy Fiamingo

Accident Prone

Annegret Kleinecke

Don’t Shorten Her Name

Sybil Matthews

Dear Sybil

A Kindly Gentleman

Ode to JOY

Snip

A Swell Company

A Book Full of JOY

Auriol Bologno

A Sweet Man

Retired Rally Racer

Portrait of a Family

To Annegret

Unity

Kenneth Pearce

Invitation to a Party

Bring & Braai

Zoe O’Brien

JOY Works Smarter

Success Story—Promotions

Dark Secrets

A Most Considerate Man

She has Ambition

Faithful Amanda

Little Laetitia

Thank You, Mercedes.

A Tribute to Margaret

To Candy

Welcome Back

For Your Information

Sue’s Noble

Full of JOY

Not So Gay, Divorcee.

Disabled is a Label

A Proud Record

This Guy’s Humour

He’s a Clown

Dear Alan

A Competent Guy

Nerve Wracking

A Well-Earned Rest

Goodbye Sister Mac

Our Industrial Nurse

Sweet Sue

Joy Sullivan

None so Brave

Bewildered

Cheerful Maggie

Sweet Repose

Records Supervisor

A Man of Worth

Sandy Sanstrom

Bird Sanctuary

Support Our Paper, Please

Thanks

Pensioner’s Day

INCLEDON

Experience Counts

A Regular Trooper

Conscientious

Gert Smith

Mr Commins

Carol van Wyk at Incledon

Farewell to Carol

We’re Moving

Elsie Mohlabane

Ons Tant Lettie

I Love to Work

OCTOGENARIAN

Our Tribute

This Earthly House

Great and Small

A Painful Period

AFRIKAANSE GEDIGTE

Ons Pastoor

Bedagsame Phlippie

Vriend Louis

’n Aangename Reis

’n Gawe Man

Slampamper Sirkus

Marlene Hamman

Alda

Hy Kry Verhoging

Ansa

Uitmekaar

Ontnugter

Moeder

Minnie Irene Wren neé Jackson

A tribute to our precious mother

Minnie Irene Jackson was born on 17th September 1917 in Bethulie, a town near the Orange River in the Orange Free State of South Africa. She was a very placid but sickly child, the eldest of eleven children. Having been born with a ‘caul’ (part of the amniotic membrane or sac) on her face, which was seen as a sign of good luck in medieval times and was regarded as a valuable talisman, Minnie was thought to have been born with extra sensory perception due to the myth surrounding one born with this extra ‘skin’ on their face.

Minnie loved poetry all her life and started putting her thoughts into rhyme at a very early age. Unfortunately a lot of her poems were never kept. The poems found were compiled into this work a year after her death.

Minnie met her future husband, Wally Wren, in Johannesburg in 1940 when she was 23. They married in Johannesburg in 1942. They had three children in the space of eight years; and then two more children in 1956 and 1958.

Minnie worked until the age of 78 and wrote limericks and poems of everyone she worked with, went to church with or met on the bus. Her masterpieces (in my opinion) are the letters she wrote in rhyme when she complained to a company about a product she had bought from them. When they had replaced the product she sent them another letter in rhyme thanking them for their good service.

She always said that poetry was like ‘music to my ears’.

Minnie Wren died at the age of 92 on 26th April 2010 and is sorely missed.

Her original poems spanning from 1931 to 2005 are enclosed in this work. Compiled by her youngest daughter, Beverley Wren.

June 2011

1.jpg

Photo taken in 1940—Minnie Jackson at the age of 23

Minnie Irene Jackson

Wishful Thinking

Wish that I could a poet be,

To tell the beauties of flower and tree,

Of birds and beasts and forest glade,

And all the things that God has made.

Would that I could my thoughts express,

On the wild nature of the wilderness,

And like great poets of old time,

Write in rare and perfect rhyme.

If beautiful poems I could write,

They’d be of joy and the delight

Of love; a mother’s tender love,

And of the wonders up above.

I’d write of strange lands, foreign ports,

And tell you all my loveliest thoughts,

Of music and song and the hopes I build

On the dreams with which my life is filled.

-o-o-o-o-o-

M I Jackson—1931 (Age 14)

My Poems

I like my poems, they’re simple and plain,

In liking my poetry, I hope I’m not vain,

I like poems that rhyme, as poems should,

And I like poetry that can be understood.

-o-o-o-o-o-

M I Jackson—1934

Inheritance

I was surprised, when uncle died,

And left me all his wealth.

Some plate of gold, which I was told,

That he had gained by stealth.

Two silver lamps, a few rare stamps,

And a great big flashy car.

With loads of cash, to cut a dash,

When I want to travel far.

-o-o-o-o-o-

(I can dream, can’t I?)

M I Jackson—1932

Such is a Rebel

If I were to be rebellious at school,

I would not obey a single rule.

I’d run around the class and see,

That all the others followed me.

When teacher talked, I’d loudly shout,

And run off - if she tried to clout.

I’d tear the books, and slam the door,

And scuffle sand upon the floor.

My homework I wouldn’t do at all,

Because of friends who often call.

If I should fail I just won’t care,

Those who do are just plain square.

-o-o-o-o-o-

M I Jackson—1933

Two Faced

Our holiday we spent at Trefusis,

Where the manager very profuse is,

He’s polite to his guests,

Behind their backs calls them pests,

And hurls at his servants abuses.

-o-o-o-o-o-

M I Jackson—1933

My Favourite Fruit

A fruit that I dig,

Is a ripe juicy fig,

My appetites not big,

But I’ll eat like a pig,

From a bowl full of fig.

-o-o-o-o-o-

M I Jackson—1933

Greed Doesn’t Pay

Today some apples mother bought,

I took the best one, (so I thought),

But when into the fruit I bit,

I spied a worm! No! Half of it!

I flung it far, with all my might,

And brother said, "It serves you right,

For grabbing, oh so greedily,

See now you’ve lost it speedily."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Witch Confused

Witch Hazel & her twin witch Lee,

Were alike as two pods in a pea,

When their Aunt came to tea, She cried, "Oh! Dearie me,

I’ve struck a hitch, which witch is which,

Which Hazel? . . . Which Lee?

-o-o-o-o-o-

M I Jackson—1940 (Age 23)

Fruity

A girl will sometimes say,

She doesn’t care a fig for Janet,

Why limit it to just one fruit,

Why not a pomegranate?

And here’s another problem too,

With which I fail to grapple,

They call a pretty girl a ‘peach’,

Why not call her an apple?

-o-o-o-o-o-

And

Quite unplanned,

It’s come to hand,

That Joanie Rand,

Looks very grand,

Upon the stand,

With a band,

When she’s canned,

Or getting tanned,

In her bikini,

On the strand.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Rhyme

At home I spend a lot of time,

Putting some of my thoughts into rhyme.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Beestly

A bee stung baby, poor little mite,

Not very badly, gave her a fright;

Up in the ceiling, do father, please,

Put up the ladder, remove all the bees.

A bee stung Molly, while reading her book,

Now she has a horrible, one-sided look;

Can’t do her homework, using one