My Sweet Baby Girl
by Helen George

My heart skips a beat as I gaze at your face,
So wistful and peaceful, while sleep doth embrace,
Soft curls on the pillow so dark and so sleek,
Pleasant dreams, I whisper as I kiss your sweet cheek.

Awake from your nap, you reach out for me,
I lift you up, hug you, and then set you free,
You go toddling about, playing with toys,
As I watch you contentedly, smiling in joy.

I'm captivated by your cute baby ways,
Will love you always, till the end of my days,
To have you in my life brings such a thrill,
My precious, my darling, my sweet baby girl.

Nature's Seasons
by Helen George

Spring enters gently, breathing new life,
Refreshing the soul, brushing out strife,
All the green buds take on a new sheen,
As after a rain, so crisp and so clean.

Summer is welcomed with open arms,
Filling the world with her flowery charms,
The outdoors is calling and we gather there,
As children's laughter floats in the air.

Autumn is decked out in colorful splendor,
Her brilliant hues she proudly does render,
She beckons to all, "Come, enjoy the view,
"Ere my leaves drop and I bid you adieu."

Winter arrives with a brisk chill in the air,
Bringing out mittens and scarves to wear,
Enchanted we are as the flakes start to flow,
Covering the world in a blanket of snow.

Afternoon Tea
by Helen George

I gazed out my window at the gray rainy day,
And I knew that today I'd stay inside to play,
So, I gathered my dolls around about me,
And invited them all to have afternoon tea.

In this chair I'll sit Rosie in her bright red dress,
Next will go Blondie, her curls combed afresh,
In this chair across we'll sit dear Miss Phoebe,
And last, but not least, is my sweet little DeeDee.

The table's adorned with a white lacy cloth,
And my blue china tea set has been set forth,
The tea is steeping, there's sugar and cream,
Enough different cookies for a little girl's dream.

The afternoon passes as we sip tea and chat,
Whispering about this and laughing at that,
"I'm glad you could join me," I say to each one,
In spite of the rain, it's been marvelous fun.

Thoughts Of The Sea
by Helen George

As the sun in the sky rises high overhead,
I toss the seagulls crumbs of day old bread,
They swoop and grab while suspended in air,
Screeching and calling, demanding their share.

The sea water's warm as I wade ankle deep,
Bubbles of foam splash my legs as they sweep
Over the sand, leaving seashells behind,
Washing sandcastles away as they wind.

In the sand dunes, I stop, look out at the waves,
Swollen and rising, so somber and grave,
Heading for shore, where they crest and break,
Then ebbing, they leave a dark stain in their wake.

Sailboats on the horizon, drifting at ease,
White sails billowing in the gentle breeze,
The sea air invigorates, stand tall at the helm,
Embrace mother nature as you enter her realm.

Your Name Is Mud
by Helen George

In a little town in Maryland a legend exists,
About a doctor's path that took a terrible twist,
When I hear people say, "Your name is mud,"
The doctor's story hits home with a thud.

Dr. Samuel Mudd is who that saying's about,
And what happened to him is sad, never doubt,
Found guilty of complicity in a murderous scheme,
He lost all respect, his good name not redeemed.

Dr. Mudd took no part in the murder of Lincoln,
Booth acted alone, and then jumped without thinking,
Though he broke his left leg he still rode thirty miles,
To seek the help of Dr. Mudd and to rest for awhile.

Dr. Mudd gave assistance, as a good doctor should,
Set the leg, provided crutches, did what he could,
He would live to regret his actions, for, in fact,
A whole country would blame him for this one selfless act.

Sentenced to life, although innocence he professed,
They said guilt by association is guilt nonetheless,
So, when "your name is mud" is used to defame,
They're enforcing the tale of a good doctor's shame.