Hoarders
The hoarders
help Hitler, when they grumble, groan and mutter
And say they
are cheated, when they can’t get
sugar,
coffee and butter.
They carry
home great sacks full of foods
and juices
in cans
Get irate at
the grocer and baker, when not able
to get all
demands.
Patriotic? A, yes, the American flag is on
the
windshields of all their cars
Yet they
drive these cars to haul home their ill-gotten jars.
Just hear
the clamor and roar, when they speak about meat
I wonder,
were they in Europe, how much
could they
get to eat?
They bootleg
on gasoline, rubber and tires
Who says
they are scarce are big liars.
And now,
when they have to plod along
on their
poor shoeless feet
They are
yelling so loudly, that it’s giving the dictators a treat.
That there
is a war on, they don’t seem to be aware
And what’s
more, are too selfish
and greedy
to care.
Business and
leisure must go on in the same usual way.
Hungry,
shoeless, unarmed soldiers will save them
while they
idle and play.
So why
should they do without what they want,
or try
anything to save?
What care
they for mothers who weep, and think
of sons
asleep in a foreign grave.
Note: There is little doubt as to how Grandma felt about rationing (or not).
Nancy Jane Wiley Hill (1875-1960) was always writing something. Many of those poems are now in the possession of her granddaughter Shirley Kern. Shirley, with the help of her sister-in-law Ruth Ormsby, transcribed these poems in 1996 for a Hill-Ormsby-Kern family reunion. I am going to post many of these poems so that they may be enjoyed by all.
These are copyright 1996 and reprinted with permission.