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"Good morning, Miss Beulah!"
"I sing my song. Don't nobody mess with me." Hands clappingfeet pattinghead swaying "Hey, Beulah. Do you know me?I love you." "I know you, Mother. You won't hurt me. You not my Mother, but you won't hurt me. I just sing my song." Hands clappingfeet pattinghead swaying "Beulah, this is my company, my nephew." "I know him. Yes, man, I know you. You a good man. You'll treat me right. Won't you? You be good to me. YesYes You'll take me back to my home. Won't you? M-m-m-m. YesYesM-m-m-m. Won't you? You won't hurt me." Hands clappingfeet pattinghead swaying "Beulah, come on with me, now. It's bath time." "I'm just singing my song. Don't mess with me. I know what you want. Go on! I'm sitting here where I can sing. Don't need no bath. NoNo" Gnarled hands clappingslow feet pattinggray head swaying Beulah, clinging to her song, keeps time To the beat of memory's music from so long ago, In the hope of a better day to come. |
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by: Diane F. Thompson (July 8, 2006) |
