Well, the book was still for sale on eBay, so I picked it up. Let's see if I can paste the story here: St. Bernard Sally, by Frances B. Watts St Bernard Sally from Orphan Dog Alley Was weary of being alone. Woof! She would wail, with a droop of her tail, “I wish I had folks of my own!” Each day she would hike to Traveler’s Pike And patiently wait in the bend. When people came by, she wished she could cry, “A dog is a person’s best friend!” But nobody took her. They’d all overlook her For the cuddly cats they might find. ‘Twas Sally’s bad luck to be big as a truck. She wasn’t the cuddly kind. Then one wintry day, young Tommy O’Shea Got lost in the neighboring hills. A posse went out to search all about The snow-covered ridges and rills. But they came home at night in a terrible plight. Young Tommy just couldn’t be found! “This job,” ventured Sally, “is right up my alley!” And off Sally went with a bound. “Well, well,” thought the dog, as she plowed through a bog, “I’m just like my Granddaddy Percy, Who made rescue like this in the land of the Swiss And was known as an angel of mercy!” Up, up and up climbed the oversized pup, Sniffing the ground for a clue. Then she’d patiently sit and yodel a bit, “A little-ole-lay-ah-de-who!” “I do hope he hears!” said the dog through her tears. (She was feeling sorry for Tommy.) Then, over the trees on the crest of a breeze, She heard a wee voice calling “Mommy!” She found the poor child in the deep wooded wild, Where he’d haplessly strayed from his course. “Hurrah!” Sally cried, “I’ll give him a ride! I’ll pretend I’m his little pet horse.” Then how the folks cheered, when Sally appeared In Tommy O’Shea’s crowded yard. ‘The dog found the boy!” they shouted with joy. “Hurrah, for that brave St. Bernard!” Nowadays Sally has left Orphan Dog Alley. She has a nice family instead. She spends all her days with the grateful O’Sheas, And sleeps at the foot of Tom’s bed. “I’m glad,” Sally sighs, as she closes her eyes, “I’m the kind on whom people depend. I can’t tell the folks so, but now they all know – A dog is a person’s best friend!”

The size of your photo is just fine to my old eyes. A really pretty bloom; especially like the lacy pink edging. Look forward to more photos of it along the way.....Maryl

This poem appeared several years ago and during this record breaking cold, polar vortex, it surfaced again. As soon as I had posted it, I realized that I had not added, Author Unknown, but then I discovered that the "edit" feature had disappeared from Houzz. Anyone know how to access the edit feature?

Thank you @Mars SC Zone 8b Mars and @rosecanadian! I really love the poem "The Walnut Tree!" When I was little we had a huge walnut tree with a swing on it. I spent many happy summer afternoons swinging underneath the shade of that walnut tree, gazing out at the wild sunflowers that grew everywhere and listening to the trilling of the mockingbird that nested in the bottlebrush tree nearby. Sadly our old walnut tree did die : (. Here's another poem from my poem book: Winter Ballet I sit here by my window seat And watch the snowflakes as they fall. They cover trees in ermine wrap, And for the shrubs purl lacy shawls. They swirl right past my windowpane - White ballerinas twirling 'round. They dance so gaily through the air, Merrily whirling, as if wound. My heart delights in their ballet Performed with beauty and with grace. Last dance completed, now they fall, The barren earth soon to replace. All through the night the snowflakes fall. When dawns the early morning light We see a fluffy comforter Has blanketed the ground in white. By Beverly J. Anderson