My eyes burn and the clock ticks,
and still, I cannot find the right little baby named, Harriet.
I don’t even know if I have the right mother,
and still, I search for this elusive little girl with one or two “t”s.
And I already have five James,
who could be her father, her brother, or her son.
And when once I have narrowed it down
to the proper Harriet,
the one with the proper number of children,
with just the proper names,
I will work on another branch.
Or is it a root? Heavens, I sound like a gardener!
Next, I’ll be pruning, watering, and fertilizing things.
Watching to see things grow.
Digging up things that have died.
No, no time for that.
I’m off to rescue fair Joanna,
a Coffin born, yet buried a Knight.
Not for lack of trying mind, I was bound and determined
she would be a Lunt,
but no, not our fair Joanna.
And did it in style with eleven children,
almost all of them boys to go into the Navy.
So, what next? Walk through another cemetery?
Check on that date of death?
Or should I switch to something really challenging,
and go looking for lost Uncle Harry
in Florida? Texas? ??