Robert Winthrop

Robert Winthrop Poems

When we were kids and sent to bed
When dusk had barely passed,
My brother Tom and I would play
A game, "I Touched You Last."
...

Are aprons passé? There may still be a few
That say 'Kiss the Cook' when men barbecue.
For Gram they were vital; they saved her good dress
When cooking and cleaning or clearing a mess.
...

I just saw in the paper that a friend of mine had died;
I had not seen him for some time, but still I nearly cried.
I thought of days when we were kids and every summer's day
I'd go and ask his mother if he could come out and play.
...

When I was newly married and adjusting to the life,
I went to see my mother and complained about my wife.
I wasn't kind then to my wife I really must confess.
Her cooking wasn't up to par; she left the sink a mess.
...

I had a friend who lost a leg
While in the war in France,
And with this loss he also lost
The chance to run and dance.
...

When I was six and in first grade,
We found a house complete
With yard and fields and great big trees,
A house on Pleasant Street.
...

One night when I was safe in bed,
I counted many sheep,
But any means which I employed
Would not bring dreams or sleep.
...

I give you these poorly wrapped gifts
And hope that you will find something about them to like.
These gifts that cost a few dollars
But can never equal the value of
...

9.

(If you grew up in Hannibal, you knew Marge, the friendly waitress at the Maid-Rite drive-in. Suffering from ill health, Marge jumped from the bridge and perished in the Mississippi.)

A cigarette, a sailor hat,
A whispered 'Goodbye, Hon.'
...

My uncle was a patron of the bars up on North Main;
He also thought he knew a lot about our dear Mark Twain.
He'd sit upon his bar stool and recite from Mark Twain's books.
He wasn't fazed when tourists there would give him dirty looks.
...

When I was growing up, I had a lot of friends who were
Of opposite religions, and politics, for sure.
We'd often kid and tell bad jokes about the others' plan;
I favored FDR and Thomas Dewey was their man.
...

It could have been for any game or for a spelling bee,
Or maybe for flag football or Ollie Ollie Oxen Free.
I'm sure we all remember them, this girl and this boy,
They were the last ones chosen, we'll call them Tom and Joy.
...

On Broadway in 'Damn Yankees' there was a guy named Joe,
They said that he was 'shoeless' and he came from Hannibal, MO.
Now, this guy was fictitious but there's a tale of woe
About a man from Hannibal, a really 'Shoeless Joe.'
...

The old men looked at me, so young, and said,
'How wonderful if we could know again
The happy days and blissful hours when
Upon tomorrow's ev'ry hope we fed,
...

Early morning, Paris, France,
My guests are still in bed.
I rise and dress and out the door
I go with panther tread.
...

Like any other river town, our Hannibal had vice
Although it wasn't spoken of by those considered 'nice.'
But even boys of ten or twelve along the way had heard
That something strange was going on at One-Eleven Bird.
...

Ay! Tear the water tower down
That stands on Pleasant Street,
A landmark generations old,
A memory so sweet.
...

(Miss Bessie B. Brown, librarian and Latin and English teacher at Central School, is remembered fondly by hundred of her students.)

We called her Bessie “Beanpole” Brown, for children can be cruel
To give this appellation to such a precious jewel.
...

(Ilasco and Monkey Run were two small villages south of Hannibal where workers at the cement plant lived.)

My folks met in Ilasco or maybe Monkey Run.
I've heard so many stories that I'm not sure just which one.
...

When old reruns of 'Happy Days' come on my TV set,
My thoughts go back so many years, and then my eyes grow wet.
For then in this old river town we had our happy days:
Our days of cruising Broadway, our jokes, our high-school plays.
...

Robert Winthrop Biography

I was born and raised in Hannibal, Missouri, a stone's throw from Mark Twain's boyhood home on Hill Street. I twice won first prize for my verses in the local literary competition. After graduating from college, I became an English and journalism teacher for several years. Later I studied computer science and became a technical writer. As part of my job I lived and worked in Paris, France, for a couple of years. I retired from a major computer company, and I am now enjoying traveling and pretty much doing what I want. Most of my verses are in rhyme, and I try to vary the scheme and meter. The poems on my page were written over the years, some in high school, some in college, and some more recently.)

The Best Poem Of Robert Winthrop

A Brother's Touch

When we were kids and sent to bed
When dusk had barely passed,
My brother Tom and I would play
A game, "I Touched You Last."

We'd lie there in our double bed
Where nothing could be seen,
And then a hand would slowly snake
Across the space between.

"I touched you last, " we'd say and then
Edge back across the bed.
The other one would wait awhile,
Pretending to be dead.

Then he would reach one finger out
And touch the other's arm.
"I touched you last! " he'd shout with glee
Then scoot away from harm.

The game might last for minutes or
Until we tired of it.
Or till our mother heard us and
Demanded that we quit.

The years flew by and we would fight
And often disagree.
I did not tell him how I cared,
And he did not tell me.

Yet through the years when we were grown
Tom's goodness touched my heart:
The birthdays he remembered
When we were far apart.

His kindness to our mother,
The sadness he endured
When his dear Susan passed away
Would touch a heart inured.

To ease the pain of parting when
He went away to war,
He said, "Hey, Bro, I touched you last, "
And hopped into his car.

I could not help but smile then as
I watched him drive away.
To know that he remembered touched
My heart all through the day.

And then word of the accident
That told us Tom was gone.
The sense of loss that darkened
What had been a crimson dawn.

We brought Tom home to be near us
And then we learned how much
So many other friends of Tom
Had known our brother's touch.

We listened to the eulogies
By friends and family
That told how Tom had touched their lives
As Tom had so touched me.

Then as in single file we looked
On one so dear who'd passed,
I placed one finger on his brow,
"Hey, Bro, I touched you last."

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