The Albany Poetry Workshop
Forum II: Improbable Tales
Sheila Ferguson
Jenny-Lyn
A statue stands beside the lake,
A marble maiden with fair skin.
Inscribed below are these few words
"She said her name was Jenny-Lyn."
Now, this is how the story goes;
I report it all, just as I heard.
I repeat it all from memory,
I haven't changed a single word.
It was a celebration day,
A picnic planned for the whole town.
To join together in this place,
The people came from all around.
They played some games, ate lots of food.
The kids were swimming, having fun.
They laughed and danced, and even sang
Until the setting of the sun.
And then the day, it turned to dark.
They could not find the smallest one.
They called his name, searched everywhere;
But could not find him, he was gone.
A splashing sound down in the lake,
They saw her walking with the boy.
She brought the child and laid him down,
Then sang to him a song of joy.
She placed her hand upon his head,
Then whispered something in his ear.
When he awoke and spoke to them,
The crowd roared out with a loud cheer.
They looked for her, but she was gone.
The little boy spoke once again,
And this is what he told the crowd-
"She said her name was Jenny-Lyn."
An old man standing in the crowd
Began to cry and shake his head.
And when the crowd asked what was wrong,
He smiled at them and softly said-
"My daughter drowned in this same lake;
She was my angel, only ten.
For twenty years, I've grieved for her-
My daughter's name was Jenny-Lyn."
January, 1998
Sheila Ferguson's questions:
Is the wording too simple?
Can it be improved, or is the idea hopeless?