![]() "To Macatawa" Rhapsody by L. Frank Baum Author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Woggle-Bug Book, The Boy Fortune Hunters in the South Seas, etc. Originally published September 1, 1907. [L. Frank Baum, after his earliest successes as an author, spent several summers with his wife Maud and their four sons in their cottage at the Lake Michigan resort of Macatawa not far from Holland, Michigan.] WRITTEN FOR THE [Grand Rapids, Michican, Sunday] HERALD. My praises in thy face, and sing A tribute so deserved, mayhap All men to nestle in thy lap Will long, and be inspired with zest To rest their heads upon thy breast! This may be metaphoric, yet The nestle and the rest you bet Your badge belong no place but here - And here you'll find them, never fear. I beg to ask where else you'll find A summer haven that's designed So perfectly to charm mankind And tone the liver, heart and mind? Where else is every nerve relaxed And every lung-cell overtaxed To breathe the ozone laden breeze That gives you sleep whene'er you please? Where else do jaunty villas peep From leafy bowers across the deep Expense of Michigan, who soaks With crystal tears the bathing-folks? Where else does fickle appetite Aspire to reach a dizzy height In order that it may deplete Your purse to feed it stuff to eat? Where else in all the world's expanse Do sunsets get so good a chance To spread themselves and make us cry: "They've spilled a paint-shop in the sky?" Where else can maidens get so wet When wearing bathing-suits? and yet Where else is humor half so dry Or wit and wisdom half so spry? Where else do bridge fiends congregate So thickly, or sit up so late? Where else do pretty wives despise The art of making goo-goo eyes And husbands their own wires adore Exclusively - and nothing more? Where else do lovers seek the trail Through woodland glens, and never fail To cling together at all cost To keep themselves from getting lost? Where else are peaches double price Because they taste so mighty nice? Where else are peas so luscious sweet Or chickens half so good to eat? Where else are fishes so polite That on your hook they always bite? Where else do cottagers dictate The cost of lights, the water rate. And run the whole shebang just right To make the sore-heads rave and fight? Where else, in short, is found so nice An imitation paradise? Happy the boy or girl who knows This land of rainbows, beaux and bows, Where every night there is a chance To revel in the merry dance; Where motor boats are thick as bees And all can mote whene'er they please; Where all is love and peace and joy Without a 'skeeter to annoy Or sign of any carking care To be discovered anywhere. On you, dear Mac., where stands my shack, I'll ne'er by work or deed go back; But ever will I drool they praise And love thee well for all my days. THE FORGETFUL POET By Ruth Plumly Thompson Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, October 21, 1917. A Handful of Riddles What Have We Here? What a goat's sometimes called I can spread on my bread, Or part of a door will Do nicely instead. A part of my nose I can cross, I suppose, And part of my eye I could throw, If I chose. While part of my hands Grow in tropical lands, And part of my fingers All building demands! Where is the Flowery Kingdom and what do we mean when we say The Tight Little Island? Copyright © 2005 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved. |
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