[stylist] Jackie's special things prompt

Barbara HAMMEL poetlori8 at msn.com
Mon Aug 3 16:03:43 UTC 2015 

I also was a bit of a tomboy. Though there was not much age difference between my siblings and I, my brother and I were the younger set. I played many a game of building roads and tunnels and cities in the dirt and playing for hofffs with the rug city my mother painted for him — though in later childhood I always had to be the farmer because he didn't like me running over the buildings I can not see. LOL! Once, he and I tried to dig a hole to China. Mom was NOT pleased with that endeavor. Between the ages of four and eight my family rented a farmhouse and those are the best years of my childhood as far as home life went. Once we moved to town my siblings ran with their friends and I was too shy to make any. My excuse was why did I need them since I spent more time away from home, three fourths of the way across the state. At school I was the lone girl amongst all the boys for playing sports.
Barbara

Sent from my iPhone

> On Aug 3, 2015, at 09:42, Lynda Lambert via stylist <stylist at nfbnet.org> wrote:
> 
> Hi Barbara,
> This poem stayed with me after I read it last night - I kept thinking of it during the night and again this morning. I think it is because it is a world that I am not at all aware of, in my own childhood.   It is a plaintive cry - as each new quatrain begins with a  sing-song refrain, a  kind of feeling about the "dolls."  Dolls are not at all a part of my childhood experience but they sure were in my sister's life.  My sister and I do not even come from the same planet, I once told her.
> 
> From the poem's beginning there is a tension between loving and holding onto the dolls, and a feeling of guilt or impending punishment for loving the dolls.  Loneliness and insecurity are overcome by clinging to the little dolls.  I have a feeling of sadness as I read this.  I think you did a really good job of expressing your innermost thoughts in this poem and it is something many people can relate to.   For me, it would never have been a doll as I never liked dolls - I ran barefoot, climbed trees, planted seeds for flowers all around the house and made roads fro my trucks in my father's gardens, and played games with the neighborhood kids, even was in "cat fights" at times with them.  Reading was my solace as well.  Every evening our mother read us stories before we went to bed - and I did that with my household of children later on in life, as well. Summertime included  trips to the public library with my mother and new books to read on the front porch glider.
> 
> This poem made me ask myself what it was that I held dearest as a child, and what I found my personal happiness  - and I would say it was in nature.  I was always off on little excursions by myself - swimming in the creek, ice skating on the creek in winter, looking for snakes and frogs, and riding my bicycle for miles and miles, and walking down railroad tracks for miles and putting coins on the tracks and waiting for the trains to come by and smash them. .  In my home we ran free and it was my "normal" to be alone and out exploring  wherever I wanted to be. I think I had a glorious childhood, knew I was loved, and felt very secure in my young life.  The poet Nikki Giovanni wrote a fabulous poem about her childhood  *The Kidnap Poem) and she speaks of her childhood and how when you become famous, they never talk about how happy you were.
> (Here is the link to this wonderful poem if you would like to read it: http://www.math.buffalo.edu/~sww/poetry/giovanni_nikki.html#kidnap .
> Lynda
> 
> 
> -----Original Message----- From: Barbara HAMMEL via stylist
> Sent: Monday, August 03, 2015 8:39 AM
> To: Writers' Division Mailing List
> Cc: Barbara HAMMEL
> Subject: Re: [stylist] Jackie's special things prompt
> 
> I, too, was a HUGE fan of reading.
> Barbara
> 
> Sent from my iPhone
> 
>> On Aug 2, 2015, at 23:19, Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter via stylist <stylist at nfbnet.org> wrote:
>> 
>> Barbara,
>> 
>> Thanks for sharing. I feel the loneliness in this poem, and that resonates
>> with me. I was not a huge doll girl, but I constantly sought something to
>> make me feel less alone. Reading is what took me away from life and my
>> loneliness as a child, but I think most can understand what the doll
>> represents here. Thanks.
>> 
>> Bridgit
>> 
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Barbara
>> HAMMEL via stylist
>> Sent: Sunday, August 02, 2015 10:08 PM
>> To: stylist <stylist at nfbnet.org>
>> Cc: Barbara HAMMEL <poetlori8 at msn.com>
>> Subject: [stylist] Jackie's special things prompt
>> 
>> 
>> 
>> It's an old poem but I thought it fit this prompt.
>> 
>> MY DOLLS
>> by Barbara Hammel
>> 
>> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
>> I cling to them too tight.
>> My pretty dolls, my special dolls,
>> And I know it isn't right.
>> 
>> But they did so much comfort me
>> And ease my child-heart.
>> Especially my baby-doll
>> From which I could not part.
>> 
>> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
>> My love is much too great.
>> The yearning to own more of them
>> I cannot seem to sate.
>> 
>> But dolls they were such friends to me
>> In bygone days of yore,
>> And I have _always loved them so
>> And _always wanted more.
>> 
>> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
>> God does not wish to be
>> Placed behind my love for them,
>> And that is hard for me.
>> 
>> For way back in those childhood years
>> A very special doll
>> Was all there was to cling to
>> For a little girl, so small.
>> 
>> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
>> Too highly do I treasure,
>> My pretty dolls, my special dolls,
>> To buy one gives me pleasure.
>> 
>> But God is much displeased with this--
>> He knows their hold is strong--
>> For I am storing earthly treasure
>> Which Biblically is wrong.
>> 
>> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
>> I love them, this I know,
>> But I must put them in their place
>> And not value them so.
>> 
>> But they were once the world to me,
>> Yes, they were all I had,
>> For they were always there for me
>> When I was afraid or sad.
>> 
>> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
>> My pretty dolls, my special dolls,
>> My little girl dolls, my little boy dolls, And--especially one--my baby
>> dolls.
>> 
>> I cling to them too tight, I know,
>> But I can't seem to let them go.
>> I do not _need them now, that's so,
>> But there they are, lined row on row.
>> 
>> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
>> O, God, they can't compare.
>> But You weren't tangible to the child
>> And the dolls were always there.
>> 
>> Help me use them as reminders
>> Each time I touch a hand, a face,
>> That You are always here beside me,
>> All the time, in every place.
>> 
>> 
>> Sent from my iPhone
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