GENEALOGY POEMS...well...mostly
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Genealogy begins as an interest,
Becomes a hobby,
Continues as an avocation,
Takes over as an obsession;
And in its last stages.....
Is an incurable disease....

But such a fun disease!!!!!

Every family tree has some sap in it

Some family trees bear beautiful leaves, but others just have a bunch of nuts!!


Genealogy can be hazardous to your health!
Researching your ancestors can be addictive!
There is no known cure for the disease!


A haunting curiosity about your ancestors: relentless searches of libraries, courthouses, old cemeteries and Grannie's attic. Burning, itching eyes, blurred vision, tired feet, stiff neck and low back pain. Cold, sweaty palms, heart palpitations and lack of sleep. This may be accompanied by an uncontrollable urge to travel and have lengthy telephone conversations with total strangers. If these symptoms persist: Consult a professional genealogist.


I started out calmly tracing my tree,
To find, if I could, the making of me.
And all that I had was Great Grandfather's name,
Not knowing his wife or which way he came.

I chased him across a long line of states,
And came up with pages and pages of dates.
When all put together it made me forlorn,
I'd proved poor Great Grandpa had never been born.

One day I was sure the truth I had found,
Determined to turn this whole thing upside down.
I looked up the records of one Uncle John,
But then found the old man to be younger than his son.

Then when my hopes were fast growing dim,
I came across records that must have been him.
The facts I collected then made me quite sad,
For dear old Great Grandfather was never a dad.

I think maybe someone is pulling my leg,
I'm not sure at all I wasn't hatched from an egg.
After hundreds of dollars I've spent on my tree.
I can't help but wonder if I'm really me.

by Dwight Latham and Moe Jaffe

Many, many years ago when I was twenty-three
I was married to a widow who was pretty as could be
This widow had a grownup daughter who had hair of red
My father fell in love with her, and soon they, too, were wed.

This made my Dad my son-in-law and really changed my life
For now my daughter was my mother, 'cause she was my father's wife
And to complicate the matter, even though it brought me joy,
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became a brother-in-law to Dad
And so became my uncle, though it made me very sat
For if he were my uncle, then that also made him brother
Of the widow's grownup daughter, who of course was my stepmother.

Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run
And he became my grandchild, for he was my daughter's son
My wife is now my mother's mother, and it makes me blue
Because although she is my wife, she's my grandmother too.

Now if my wife is my grandmother, then I'm her grandchild
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild
'Cause now I have become the strangest case you ever saw
As husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa.

I'm my own grandpa,
I'm my own grandpa,
It sounds funny, I know
But it really is so,
I'm my own grandpa.


Ancestors are found along with old furniture and captive skeletons in all our best regulated families. Ancestors consist of forefathers and foremothers, to say nothing of foreuncles and aunts, who have done something grand and noble, like being beheaded by a king or having a relative who was governor of a colony. This enables them to be pointed out with pride by their descendants for evermore.

Being an ancestor is one of the easiest and most attractive of jobs. It merely consists of being boasted of by one's descendants. Thus, many ancestors have been enabled to make good after they are dead. More than one ancestor who has gone out of this life a poor person, and only a few jumps ahead of the sheriff has had the good fortune, a century later, to become the ancestor of some ambitious family with plenty of money and has become so famous in consequence of that, that his tombstone has had to be greatly enlarged and improved.

Ancestors are one of the most valuable and satisfactory of possessions. They are non-taxable and cannot be stolen. Their upkeep is practically nothing, and they do not deteriorate with age and neglect. In fact, they increase in value as they grow older. An ancestor 600 years old is worth a whole mass meeting of 56 year old descendants.

Almost all rich people own and operate ancestors. But the poorest men have them too. Many a man who hasn't two vests to his name, and cannot hold a job two minutes, has ancestors which are the envy of his two-automobile neighbors. We cannot buy ancestors if we do not have them, but we can buy them for our children, by marrying descreetly. We should be proud of our ancestors, but not out loud.

We can choose our friends, but not our ancestors.


I dreamed death came to me last night
and Heaven's gate swung wide,
with kindly grace an angel came
and ushered me inside!

And my astonishment
stood folks I'd known on earth,
Some I judged and called "unfit"
and some of little worth;

Indignant words rose to my lips
But never were set free;
For every face showed stunned surprise...
Not one expected me!

I got them old genealogy blues again momma
I can't get anything straight
Seems your cousin was married to a, no, wait.
then again, grandpa had a ma, and she was a, darn, what was that name?
did you remember, or perhaps recall,
was there anything in the attic at all?
Newspapers, letters, files and such,
oh mom, its not so much.
the post man throws the mail at the box
poor man, wonder how that came about
the local librarian, well, she glares at me when I arrive,
she would rather I stayed out of the archive
The clerk at the court house , they know me by name
and they smile and grin, as I say how much again?
hubby says, no more trips to the cemetery, he knows me well
when I get that gleam in my eye, and say, hey, lets go for a drive
you would think my children would appreciate,
the work that I am doing,the staying up late
but when they say, oh no, genealogy again!
well, I just don't understand
I mean, hey, we can trace our tree, all the way to.....
no wait, not that one, this one, yep, all the way back to
this one and that, they roll their eyes, and flee
they are tired and not impressed with all of that
but one day, they will thank me I am sure
because I know we are related to, no, not him,
where do I have that again?

by Darla Darnell

Late nights, long days, gee I have already lost weight.
Introduce yourself by your handle, learn to cut and paste.
Haunt the library, curse the mail man, you know it's their fault.
Fall asleep at your keyboard, make excuses to friends.
Learn chat language and all the surnames that are in your database in hopes of adding more.
You can get a new job with the typing skills learned at the 'puter.
Pass on your email to all of your friends, it's easier you know.
Just a little bit more time at the library, another letter on it's way,
Am I addicted? NO WAY!!

by Darla Darnell

NOTE: The above items were not written by me...don't claim that they were... but I have no idea WHERE I got most of them.

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