We were raised at Alki Beach

By one whose passion was to teach

To seventh graders, prose and verse

Though many thought no job was worse

With humor and a stubborn will

She filled their heads with books until

They knew that reading's where you find

The pathway to an open mind

And I, with sister, side by side

Would listen to her read, wide eyed

From tales of little trains that could

To Jabberwocky's tulgey wood

When older, I could not resist

The chance to then apply my twist

To somewhat blue, but tasteful rhymes

For friends' and families' special times

And when my working years were through

I started writing poems anew

With hopes, no matter what their views

They would, at least, serve to amuse

Somehow, I feel this all was planned

And reaching down was mother's hand

Reminding me, that when you live

The best fun, is the fun you give

- Carol Smith