Due to the overwhelming demand for the publication of one of the finest pieces of literature found in the English language, here is the poem that my Mom wrote when I was seven years old.
The LAST Noelle
by Georgie Gay Bateman
by Georgie Gay Bateman
I am sure that you have heard
Of “The First Noel.”
Well . . . . . . . . . . . . . !
Tell me, do you know
“The Last Noelle?”
She’s a seven-year-old wonder
With sparkling dark eyes.
She’s a raven-haired angel –
(Strictly in disguise).
She’s a pig-tailed cowpike
Ridin’ “shotgun” on a stage.
She’s a world famous ‘cellist
On a concert stage.
She’s a chicken chasin’ fox,
A rabbit chasin’ hound;
A dramatic Sarah Bernhardt,
And a three-ring clown.
She’s a contemplative Buddha;
She’s an effervescent joy.
She’s a sweet beribboned lady,
She’s a wild tomboy.
What will she be tomorrow?
I can never tell.
One thing I know for sure, though!
She’s the LAST Noelle!
Now, for your amusement, here are some of the pictures that represent how I inspired my Mom to write this poem.
I am the little baby.
I love this picture because my shoe is unbuckled. I think that’s funny.
This was my 10th birthday
You would probably not guess, but this is an example of the “tomboy.” I’m the one with the dog. I used to really love that shirt.
I’m the one with the ‘cello.
I’m the one with the look of unhappiness on my face.
I’m the one with the ‘cello. I’m the one with the look of unhappiness on my face.
I love those pictures Noelle. I can tell that you loved ballet. 😉
Was that last picture the beginning of the end for your love of dressing up? 🙂
I never had a love for dressing up. That was a costume I wore for a ballet recital.
What a walk down memory lane. You know, when I think of us as children, I think of you as the “tomboy.” I wonder why?
Shanda, that will always be a mystery. How anyone could ever think of me as a tomboy is beyond my capacity to comprehend.
Sure, right. My mistake. Clearly. Say, do you have a copy of the poem Grandma would recite and write down all the time entitled “I Love You.” I’m pretty sure I have one somewhere, but I can’t seem to put my hands on it. I think it would make a great crosstitch sampler for my house.
nice poem! oh and you looked so CUTE when you were younger! lol not too cute. x3 i can tell that you LOVED ballet huh?
I had to read the poem a couple of times to get the real meaning of this I think it comes down to your mom really loved you but was confused by you I must say the picture with you and the dog looks just like you