Autograph

I was looking for a certain book of poetry in my shelves and found my mom’s old autograph book from when she was in junior high, 1953-55. Here are some of the quite poetic inscriptions inside:

When you get married, don’t marry a fool. Marry a boy from Locust High School.

If I was a little pig playing in the yard and you were a little dog, would you bite me very hard?

I love you little. I love you big. I love you like a little pig.

When you get married and live on a hill, send me a piece of your wedding cake by a whippoorwill.

Roses are red. Violets are blue. When I pull off my socks, it smells like you.

Sure as a vine grows around a stump, you’re my darling sugar lump.

Remember when we were chums? Well, I’m still just as dumb.

When you get married and live up the river, send me a piece of your old man’s liver.

Love many. Trust few. Always paddle your own canoe.

Yours til the stars get drunk on moonshine, and that’ll be a long, long time.

A walk in the moonlight and too many kisses will change your name from Miss to Mrs.

Don’t linger to kiss by the garden gate. Love may be blind, but the neighbors ain’t.

True friends are like diamonds, precious and rare. False friends are like autumn leaves found everywhere.

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