Mary Nagy

Rookie (11-08-1970)

Ol' Junk-Yard Joe - Poem by Mary Nagy

As wintertime is starting
I watch the falling snow.
It brings to mind this neighbor man
that everyone seems to know.
He loves collecting everything
from things you drive
to things you grow.
We use to call him crazy
but we just didn't know
just how nice this old man was.
Now we call him Junk-yard Joe.
You may be wondering why I think
of him in falling snow.....
if you would see his yard just once
I'm sure then you would know.

Each year I watch this cluttered mess
grow way beyond control.
But then, as snowfall starts again
God whispers ''They'll never know! ''
His yard is quietly covered
with the blanket glistening white.
The things that looked so wretched
are now sparkling and so bright.
You can't mistake the beauty
that is covering his yard.
You'd never know the junk he had
unless you looked real hard.

I love to watch ol' Junk-yard Joe
even more so in the spring.
He walks around excited
as he looks at all his things.
It's like his glistening blanket
had been used for things to hide.
Once the snow has melted
you can see his glowing pride.
Next time you drive by his old house
don't 'tsk- 'tsk at ol' Joe
just bite your tongue and wait awhile
and thank God for the snow.

Comments about Ol' Junk-Yard Joe by Mary Nagy

  • (3/26/2006 3:17:00 AM)

    Not a scrapyard for words, more, a blanket of something beautiful found within the trash.Love Duncan (Report) Reply

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  • (11/28/2005 12:19:00 PM)

    heartwarming and funny, Mary! I think we'll all see our own Junk Yard Joe a bit differently now. Regards, Lori (Report) Reply

  • Ernestine Northover (11/26/2005 1:48:00 PM)

    When I was a child, in our village was an old man called 'Hoppy'. he actually lived in a garage, and would mend peoples wireless's, vacuums, heaters, anything electrical. He was called Hoppy because he had one leg shorter than the other. He lived on his own, and the garage was divided inside by a blanket, his shop in the front bit. I never knew how he survived in winter, as there was no electricity installed. This poem reminded me of him so much, and it is a lovely write. Thanks. Love Ernestine.XXX (Report) Reply

  • (11/26/2005 5:22:00 AM)

    Oh Mary, that's so visual and just so sweet in the very best sense! Thanks for that. (Report) Reply

  • (11/26/2005 3:47:00 AM)

    Nice. Say Hello to him from me. I am a hoarder.
    (Report) Reply

  • Cj Heck (11/25/2005 9:28:00 PM)

    Told from a heart of gold, Mary. Beautiful poem. Your words made ol Joe come to life.
    Hugs to you,
    (Report) Reply

  • (11/25/2005 9:02:00 PM)

    Cool, Mary, it is hip to appreciate everything and everyone! (Report) Reply

Read all 7 comments »

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Poem Submitted: Friday, November 25, 2005

Poem Edited: Friday, January 5, 2007

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