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Geneaology related Poems

 
                                ANCESTORS

                        If you could see your ancestors
                        All standing in a row,
                        Would you be proud of them?
                        Or don't you really know?
                        Strange discoveries are sometimes made,
                        In climbing the family tree
                        Occasionally one is found in line
                        Who shocks his progeny.
                        If you could see your ancestors
                        All standing in a row,
                        Perhaps there might be one or two
                        You wouldn't care to know
                        Now turn the question right about,
                        And take another view
                        When you shall meet your ancestors,
                        Will they be proud of you?

                                -- Author Unknown --


                          Humorous Gravestones

On the grave of Ezekial Aikle in East Dalhousie Cemetery, Nova Scotia:
          Here lies
          Ezekial Aikle
          Age 102
          The Good
          Die Young.

In a London, England cemetery:
          Ann Mann
          Here lies Ann Mann,
          Who lived an old maid
          But died an old Mann.
          Dec. 8, 1767

In a Ribbesford, England, cemetery:
          Anna Wallace
          The children of Israel wanted bread
          And the Lord sent them manna,
          Old clerk Wallace wanted a wife,
          And the Devil sent him Anna.

Playing with names in a Ruidoso, New Mexico, cemetery:
          Here lies
          Johnny Yeast
          Pardon me
          For not rising.

Memory of an accident in a Uniontown, Pennsylvania cemetery:
          Here lies the body
          of Jonathan Blake
          Stepped on the gas
          Instead of the brake.

In a Silver City, Nevada, cemetery:
          Here lays Butch,
          We planted him raw.
          He was quick on the trigger,
          But slow on the draw.

A widow wrote this epitaph in a Vermont cemetery:
          Sacred to the memory of
          my husband John Barnes
          who died January 3, 1803
          His comely young widow, aged 23, has
          many qualifications of a good wife, and
          yearns to be comforted.

A lawyer's epitaph in England:
          Sir John Strange
          Here lies an honest lawyer,
          And that is Strange.

Someone determined to be anonymous in Stowe, Vermont:
          I was somebody.
          Who, is no business
          Of yours.

Lester Moore was a Wells, Fargo Co. station agent for Naco, Arizona in
the cowboy days of the 1880's.  He's buried in the Boot Hill Cemetery
in Tombstone, Arizona:
          Here lies Lester Moore
          Four slugs from a .44
          No Les No More.

In a Georgia cemetery:
          "I told you I was sick!"


John Penny's epitaph in the Wimborne, England, cemetery:
          Reader if cash thou art
          In want of any
          Dig 4 feet deep
          And thou wilt find a Penny.

On Margaret Daniels grave at Hollywood Cemetery Richmond, Virginia:
          She always said her feet were killing her
          but nobody believed her.

In a cemetery in Hartscombe, England:
          On the 22nd of June
         - Jonathan Fiddle -
           Went out of tune.

Anna Hopewell's grave in Enosburg Falls, Vermont has an epitaph that
sounds like something from a Three Stooges movie:
          Here lies the body of our Anna
          Done to death by a banana
          It wasn't the fruit that laid her low
          But the skin of the thing that made her go.

More fun with names with Owen Moore in Battersea, London, England:
          Gone away
          Owin' more
          Than he could pay.

Someone in Winslow, Maine didn't like Mr. Wood:
          In Memory of Beza Wood
          Departed this life
          Nov. 2, 1837
          Aged 45 yrs.
          Here lies one Wood
          Enclosed in wood
          One Wood
          Within another.
          The outer wood
          Is very good:
          We cannot praise
          The other.

On a grave from the 1880's in Nantucket, Massachusetts:
          Under the sod and under the trees
          Lies the body of Jonathan Pease.
          He is not here, there's only the pod:
          Pease shelled out and went to God.

The grave of Ellen Shannon in Girard, Pennsylvania is almost a consumer
tip:
          Who was fatally burned
          March 21, 1870
          by the explosion of a lamp
          filled with "R.E. Danforth's
          Non-Explosive Burning Fluid"

          Oops! Harry Edsel Smith of Albany, New York:
          Born 1903--Died 1942
          Looked up the elevator shaft to see if
          the car was on the way down. It was.

In a Thurmont, Maryland, cemetery:
          Here lies an Atheist
          All dressed up
          And no place to go.


             You Know When You're An Addicted Genealogist

        When you brake for libraries.
        When you get locked in the library overnight and you never even notice.
        When you hyperventilate at the sight of an old cemetery.
        If you'd rather browse in a cemetery than a shopping center
        When you think every home should have a microfilm reader.
        If you'd rather read census schedules than a good book.
        When you know the town clerk in every county by name.
        If town clerks lock the door when they see you coming.
        When you're more interested in what happened in 1797 than 1997.
        If you store your clothing under the bed and your closet is carefully stacked with notebooks and journals.
        If you can pinpoint Kirkcaldy and Inverness on a map but you're still not sure if Whitehorse is in the Yukon or the Northwest Territories.
        When all your correspondence begins "Dear Cousin".
        If you've traced your ancestral lines back to Adam and Eve, have it fully documented, and still don't want to quit.



                              THE BOOK OF CREATION

 1. In the beginning God created Dates.
 2. And the date was Monday, July 4, 4004 BC.
 3 And God said, let there be light; and there was light. And when there was  Light, God saw the Date, that it was Monday, and he got down to work; for verily, he had a Big Job to do.
 4. And God made pottery shards and Silurian mollusks and pre-Cambrian limestone strata; and fints and Jurassic Mastodon tusks and Pithecanthropus erectus skulls and Cretaceos placentals made he; and those cave paintings at Lascaux. And that was that, for the first Work Day.
 5. And God saw that he had made many wondrous things, but that he had not wherein to put it all. And God said, Let the heavens be divided from the earth; and let us bury all of these Things which we have made in the earth; but not too deep.
 6.And God buried all the Things which he had made, and that was that.
 7. And the morning and the evening and the overtime were Tuesday.
 8. And God said, Let there be water; and let the dry land appear, and that was that.
 9. And God called the dry land Real Estate; and the water called he the Sea. And in the land and beneath it put he crude oil, grades 1 thru 6; and natural gas put he thereunder, and the prehistoric carboniferous forests yielding anthracite and other ligneous matter; and all these called he Resources; and he made them abundant.
 10. And likewise, all that was in the sea, even unto two hundred miles from dry land, called he resources; all that was therein, like manganese nodules, for instance.
 11. And the morning unto the evening had been a long day; which he called Wednesday.
 12.And God said, Let the earth bring forth abundantly every moving creature I can think of, with or without backbones, with or without wings or feet, or fins or claws, vestigial limbs and all, right now; and let each one be of a separate species. For lo, I can make whatsoever I like, whensoever I like.
 13. And the earth brought forth abundantly all creatures, great and small, with and without backbones, with and without wings and feet and fins and claws, vestigial limbs and all, from bugs to brontosauruses.
 14. But God blessed them all, saying, Be fruitful and multiply and evolve. (Not.)
 15. And God looked upon the species he hath made, and saw that the earth was exceedingly crowded, and he said unto them, Let each species compete for what it needeth, for Healthy Competition is My Law. And the species competeth amongst themselves, the cattle and the creeping things; and some madeth it and some didn't; and God made dinosaurs and was pleased.
 16. And God took the bones from the dinosaurs, and caused them to appear mighty old; and cast he them about the land and sea. And he took every tiny creature that had not madeth it, and caused them to become fossils; and cast he them about likewise.
 17. And just to put matters beyond the valley of the shadow of a doubt God created carbon dating. And this is the origin of species.
 18. And in the Evening of the day which was Thursday, God saw that he had put in another good day's work.
 19. And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness, which is tall and well-formed and pale of hue; and let us also make monkeys, which resembleth us not in any wise, but are short and ill-formed and hairy. And God added, Let man have dominion over the monkeys and the fowl of the air and every species, endangered or otherwise.
 20. So God created Man in His own image; tall and well-formed and pale of hue created He him, and nothing at all like the monkeys.
 21. And to every beast of the earth and every fowl of the air I have given also every green herb, and to them it shall be for meat, But they shall be for you. And the Lord God your Host suggesteth that the flesh of cattle goeth well with that of the fin and the claw; thus shall Surf be wedded unto Turf.
 22. And God saw everything he had made, and he saw that it was very good; and God said, It just goes to show Me what the private sector can accomplish. With a lot of fool regulations this could have taken billions of years.
 23. And the evening of the fifth day, which had been the roughest day yet, God said, Thank me it's Friday. And God made the weekend.


                     Murphy's Law of Genealogy


 The public ceremony in which your distinquished ancestor participated and at which the platform collapsed under him turned out to be a hanging.

 When at last after much hard work you have  solved the mystery you have been working on for two years, your aunt says, "I could have told you that"

 You grandmother's maiden name that you have searched for for four years was on a letter in a box in the attic all the time.

 You never asked your father about his family when he was alive because you weren't interested in genealogy then.

 The will you need is in the safe on board the Titanic.

 Copies of old newspapers have holes occurring only on the surnames.

 John, son of Thomas, the immigrant whom your relatives claim as the family progenitor, died on board ship at age 10.

 Your gr grandfather's newspaper obituary states that he died leaving no issue of record.

 The keeper of the vital records you need has just been insulted by a another genealogist.

 The relative who had all the family photographs gave them all to her daughter who has no interest in genealogy and no inclination to share.

 The only record you fnd for your gr grandfather is that his property was sold at a sheriff's sale for insolvency.

 The one document that would supply the missing link in your dead-end line has been lost due to fire, flood or war.

 The town clerk to whom you wrote for the information sends you a long handwritten letter which is totally illegible.

 The spelling fo your European ancestor's name bears no relationship to its current spelling or pronounciation.

 None of the pictures in your recently deceased grmother's photo album have names written on them.

 No one in your family tree ever did anything noteworthy, owned property, was sued or was named in wills.

 You learn that your great aunt's executor just sold her life's collection of family genealogical materials to a flea market dealer "somewhere in New York City"

 Ink fades and paper deteriorates at a rate inversely proportional to the value of the data recorded.

 The 37 volume, sixteen thousand page history of your county of origin isn't indexed.

 You finally find your gr grandparent's wedding records and discover that the brides' father was named John Smith.


                            Grandma's Disease

  There's been a change in Grandma, we've noticed her of late.
  She's always reading history or jotting down some date.
  She's tracking back the family, we'll all have pedigrees.
  Oh, Grandma's got a hobby - she's climbing the FAMILY TREE.

  Poor Grandpa does the cooking, and now, or so he states,
  That worst of all, he has to wash the cups and dinner plates.
  Grandma can't be bothered, she's busy as a bee,
  Compiling genealogy for the FAMILY TREE.

  She has no time to baby-sit, the curtains are a fright,
  No buttons left on Grandpa's shirt, the flower bed's a sight.
  She's given up her club work and the soaps on TV,
  The only thing she does nowadays is climb the FAMILY TREE.

  She goes down to the courthouse and studies ancient lore,
  We know more about our forebears than we ever knew before.
  The books are old and dusty, they make poor Grandma sneeze,
  A minor irritation when you're climbing the FAMILY TREE.

  The mail is all for Grandma, it comes from near and far,
  Last week she got the proof she needs to join the DAR.
  A monumental project all do agree,
  All from climbing the FAMILY TREE.

  Now some folks came from Scotland, some from Galway Bay,
  Some were French as pastry, some German all the way.
  Some went West to stake their claims, some stayed there by the sea.
  Grandma hopes to find them all, as she climbs the FAMILY TREE.

  She wanders through the graveyard in search of date and name,
  The rich, the poor, the in-between, all sleeping there the same.
  She pauses now and then to rest, fanned by a gentle breeze,
  That blows above the Fathers of all our FAMILY TREES.

  There are pioneers and patriots, mixed in our kith and kin,
  Who blazed the paths of wildness and fought through thick and thin.
  But none more staunch than Grandma, who eyes light up with glee,
  Each time she finds a missing branch for the FAMILY TREE.

  Their skills were wide and varied, from carpenter to cook,
  And one, alas, the records show, was hopelessly a crook.
  Blacksmith, weaver, farmer, judge - some tutored for a fee.
  Once lost in time, now all recorded on the FAMILY TREE.

  To some it's just a hobby, to Grandma it's much more,
  She learns the joys and heartaches of those that went before.
  They loved, they lost, they laughed, they wept - and now, for you and me,
  They live again in spirit around the FAMILY TREE.

  At last she's nearly finished and we are each exposed,
  Life will be the same again, this we all supposed.
  Grandma will cook and sew, serve cookies with our tea.
  We'll all be fat, just as before the wretched FAMILY TREE.

  Sad to relate, the preacher called and visited for a spell.
  We talked about the Gospel, and other things as well.
  The heathen folk, the poor and then - 'twas fate, it had to be,
  Somehow the conversation turned to Grandma and the FAMILY TREE.

  He never knew his Grandpa, his mother's name was...Clark?
  He and Grandma talked and talked, outside it grew quite dark.
  We'd hoped our fears were groundless, but just like some disease,
  Grandma's become an addict - she's hooked on FAMILY TREES!

  Our souls are filled with sorrow, our hearts sad with dismay.
  Our ears could scarce believe the words we heard our Grandma say,
  "It sure is a lucky thing that you have come to me,
  I know exactly how it's done. I'll climb your FAMILY TREE."

                             Anon.


                      

                    TWENTY THIRD PSALM FOR GENEALOGISTS

Genealogy is my pastime, I shall not stray
It maketh me to lie down and examine half buried tombstones.
It leadeth me to still courthouses.
It restoreth my ancestral knowledge.
It leadeth me into the paths of Census Records
  and Ship Passenger Lists for my Surnames sake.
Yea, though I wade through the shadows of
  Research Libraries and Microfilm Readers,
I shall fear no discouragement, for a strong urge is with me.
The Curiosity and Motivation, they comfort me.
It demandeth preparation of storage space for
  the aquisition of countless documents.
It anointeth my head with burning midnight oil,
  my family group sheets runneth over.
Surely Birth, Marriage, and Death Records shall
  follow me all the days of my life;
And I shall dwell in the house of the
Family History Seeker forever
                 Anonymous


Your tombstone stands among the rest
Neglected and alone
The name and date are chiseled out
On polished marble stone

It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn
You did not know that I exist
You died and I was born

Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood, in bone
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
Entirely not our own

Dear Ancestor, the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so

I wonder if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
And come to visit you.


 They think that I should cook and clean,
 and be a model wife.
 I tell them it's more interesting
 to study Grandpa's life.

 They simply do not understand
 why I hate to go to bed . . .
 I'd rather do two hundred years
 of research work instead.
 
 Why waste the time we have on earth
 just snoring and asleep?
 When we can learn of ancestors
 that sailed upon the deep?
 
 We have Priests, Rabbis, lawmen, soldiers,
 more than just a few.
 And yes, there's many scoundrels,
 and a bootlegger or two.
 
 How can a person find this life
 an awful drudge or bore?
 When we can live the lives of all
 those folks who came before?
 
 A hundred years from now of course,
 no one will ever know
 Whether I did laundry,
 but they'll see our Tree and glow . . .
 
 'Cause their dear old granny left  for them,
 for all posterity,
 not clean hankies and the like,
 but a finished family tree.
 
 My home may be untidy,
 'cause I've better things to do  . . .
 I'm checking all the records
 to provide us with a clue.
 
 Old great granny's pulling roots
 and branches out with glee,
 Her clothes ain't hanging out to dry,
 she's hung up on the Tree.                      

        Author Unknown


 Moishe,[ the renowned family historian] ,has been lying ill for weeks. A
 few days ago he slipped into a coma, and everyone feared the worst. The
 family is called. The son from Miami.The daughter from Bridgewater. The aunts.
 The uncles. All sit waiting for the end.
 
 Suddenly a miracle! Moishe opens his eyes. Weakly he motions for his son to
 approach so he can hear talk to him. Moishe is weak from the illness and so
 his voice is very faint as he says, "I've been ill?" "Yes, papa," replies the
 son with tears choking his voice, "very ill."
 
 The papa nods and speaks again.  "I had a dream. I was nearing death when I
 suddenly smelled the aroma of your mother's apple strudel.  I love that
 strudel. As wonderful a cook as my Sadie is, that strudel is her masterpiece."
 He lays back against the pillow weak from the exertion of speaking.
 
 "What a wonderful dream, papa. But the smell is real. Mama just took the
 strudel out of the oven to cool." "A miracle!" cries Moishe as he tries to
 rise, and weakly falls against the pillows. He turns to his son and says, "I'm
 still too weak to get up. Go to the kitchen and get for me a piece of Sadie's
 strudel."
 
 The son obediently rises and leaves the room to fulfill his father's request,
 only to return a few moments later empty handed. He sits again by his father's
 side.
 
 Moishe looks at him and says, "Nu?  Where is the strudel?"
 
 The son replies, "I'm sorry, papa. Mama says it's for AFTER the funeral!"


CAUTION!....You have now entered the Genealogy Zone.

My family coat of arms ties at the back....is that normal?
My family tree is a few branches short! Help appreciated
My ancestors must be in a witness protection program!
Shake your family tree and watch the nuts fall!
My hobby is genealogy, and I raise dust bunnies as pets.
How can one ancestor cause so much TROUBLE??
I looked into my family tree and found out I was a sap..
I'm not stuck, I'm ancestrally challenged
I'm searching for myself; Have you seen me ?
If only people came with pull-down menus and on-line help...
Isn't genealogy fun? The answer to one problems, leads to two more!
It's 1998. Do you know where your-Great-G. Grandparents are?
A family reunion is an effective form of birth control
A family tree can wither if nobody tends it's roots
A new cousin a day keeps the boredom away
After 30 days, unclaimed ancestors will be adopted
Am I the only person up my tree-seems like it
Any family tree produces some lemons, nuts & a few bad apples
Ever find an ancestor HANGING from the family tree?
FLOOR: The place for storing your priceless genealogy records.
Gene-Allergy-It's a contagious disease, but I love it
Genealogists are time unravelers
Genealogy is like Hide & Seek:  They Hide & I Seek!
Genealogy: Tracing yourself back to better people
"Crazy" is a relative term in my family
A miser is hard to live with, but makes a fine ancestor
I want to find ALL of them! So far I only have a few thousand
I Should have asked them BEFORE they died!
I think my ancestors had several "Bad heir" days
I'm always late. My ancestors arrived on the JUNE flower
Only a Genealogist regards a step backwards, as progress
Share your knowledge, it is a way to achieve immortality
Heredity:Everyone believes in it until their children act like fools!
It's a poor family that hath neither a Lady of the evening or a thief.
Many a family tree needs trimming
Shh! Be very, very quiet.... I'm hunting forebears.
Snobs talk as if they had begotten their own ancestors!
ThatS strange: half my ancestors are WOMEN!
I'm not sick, I've just got fading genes
Genealogists live in the past lane
Genealogists do it generation after generation....
Cousins marrying cousins: Very tangled roots!
Cousins marrying cousins: A non-branching family tree
Alright! Everybody out of the genetic pool!
Do I hear the rattle of Chains?
Always willing to share my ignorance....
Documentation...The hardest part of genealogy
For a reply, send a self-abused, stomped elephant to...
Genealogy: Chasing your own tale!
Genealogy-will I ever find time to mow the lawn again?
That's the problem with the gene pool: NO Lifeguards
I looked up my family tree...there were two dogs using it.
I researched my family tree......apparently I don't exist!

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