Before a wheel we spin our yarns
And travel all the while
My grandma at her wheel spun yarns
But never made a mile.
She never hopped off in a plane
When she was in her prime
Of all the things that grandma missed
It really seems a crime.
Still father claimed she used to make
A spread so very fine
Of maple syrup on johnny-cake
For Arlie’s dad—and mine.
And full of pep she must have been
Had too, her thrills and sparks
Or how in heck was her name changed
To Morrison from Marks.
This poem is about Jane Marks, who married Irvine (or Irwin) Morrison. “Arlie” is Arlie Marks, of the “Arlie Marks Players” a traveling theater company from Canada, which performed all over Canada and the northern part of the United States.