I'm trying to find information on where to find an old "Poem". I believe it is titled "Losted" and it has been around for probably over 50 years or more. It is supposed to be about a lost little boy and his dog trying to find their way back home. It is apparently by Anonymous. I also think the first part of it goes-

I feel so far from everywhere, my little dog he founded me.
He wagged his tail and whined, but he can't lead me home,
cause he been taught to walk behind.

If anyone know where I can find this, I would appreciate a response.

Thanks in advance.

I remember looking for it before, without success. You can always bump your old request by adding something in it.

Googling didn't help me, and you might have to wait until someone who actually read the poem stumbles upon your request. Keep trying.

Losted
I feel so far from anywhere,
Perhaps my family has so many other cares,
They've all forgotten me.
I spose I'll starve to skin and bone,
If I stay losted here alone.
My little doggie founded me,
He wagged his tail and whined,
but he can't lead me home you see,
'cause he's been taught to walk behind.
And so I'm crying just because,
I'm just as losted as I was.

I have been looking for this poem also, My daughter thinks it was by Norman Rockwell, or at least the caption of the little boy and his dog sitting at his heals, were painted by Norman Rockwell. I am still looking. My Moma had it hung on the wall for Many, Many years. Some how it got lost, as none of her children have it. gg

Desi and Michael Bean, I hope my notes as to the words of this poem helps a little. If you find any thing else on it, let me Know. I will also keep looking. By the way, isn't it stange that after all these 55 years, three of us would be looking for the same poem at the same time??? gg

gg,
Thanks so much for finding this poem and responding. My mother-in-law & father-in-law, both of whom are 90, had it on their wall at their office for many years. It got missplaced somehow and they have been trying to remember how it went for years.
I've forwarded it to them and if they remember anything else about it or the author, I'll come back to the forum and post it.

Thank's Michael Bean, looking forward to hearing from you. I am glad that my brother could come up with the words for us. It was and is his favorite poem.
I am working on the caption of the little boy at the top, in his farmers britches and the little dog sitting at his heals. I think it was a cocker spaniel. I am not the greatest artist, but using the cut and past method I think I can come up with a pretty good facimilly. I am going to use the poem in my family scrapbook, covering time from the 1800's to current day. Again, I am so glad that your mom and dad can now enjoy the words as my family does. Poems are such wonderful script. My moma wrote several and now I write a bit. gg

it is a poem by Burges Johnson,
(1877, Nov 09 – 1963, February 23)
editor, poet, musician (a Tin Pan Alley composer) , teacher,
author of New Rhyming Dictionary and Poet’s handbook

the poem is from Sonnets from the Pekinese and other doggerel, page 30,
( with beautiful illustrations by the great Edwina Dumm)
publ 1936
I am copying it, although it was already found,
for there are some mistakes

Losted

I feel so far from anywheres !
Perhaps my family
Has got so many other cares
They've all forgotten me.
I s'pose I'll starve to skin an' bone
If I stay losted here alone.

My little dog, he founded me,
An' wagged his tail an' whined,
But he can't lead me home, for he
Is taught to walk behind.
And so I'm crying yet, becuz
I'm just as losted as I was.
………………..
other books by him :
As much as I dare
Pleasant tragedies of childhood
Bashful Ballads
Campus versus classroom
As I was saying
Beastly Rhymes
Professor at Bay
The cat’s elegy
Rubaiyat of Omar Ki-Yi and other waggish rhymes
Essaying the Essay
Ladder to the Moon
…………………….
another poems :

Bungal-ode

There's a jingle in the jungle,
'Neath the juniper and pine,
They are mangling the tangle,
Of the underbrush and vine,
And my blood is all a-tingle
At the sound of blow on blow,
As I count each single shingle
On my bosky bungalow.


There's a jingle in the jungle,
I am counting every nail,
And my mind is bungaloaded,
Bungaloping down a trail;
And I dream of every ingle
Where I angle at my ease,
Naught to set my nerves a-jingle,
I may bungle all I please.


For I oft get bungalonely
In the mingled human drove,
And I long for bungaloafing
In some bungalotus grove,
In a cooling bung' location
Where no troubling trails intrude,
'Neath some bungalowly rooftree
In east bungalongitude.


Oh, I think with bungaloathing
Of the strangling social swim,
Where they wrangle after bangles
Or for some new-fangled whim;
And I know by bungalogic
That is all my bungalown
That a little bungalotion
Mendith every mortal moan!


Oh, a man that's bungalonging
for the dingle and the loam
Is a very bungalobster
If he dangles on at home.
Catch the bungalocomotive;
If you cannot face the fee,
Why, a bungaloan'll do it--
You can borrow it of me!
………………..
The Missionary's Daughter
by Burges Johnson

I haven't sewed my children's clo'se
For days, the way I'd like to do;
I don't neglect 'em, goodness knows,
'Cept when it is my duty to;
They're less important, anyhow,
'Cause I'm a missionary now.
My heathen doll's not half so dear
As all my Christian children there,
And that's what makes my duty clear
To always give him speshul care;
'Cause I have found it wrong to do
The things I'm always wanting to.
………………
Whose Dolly Is You?
by Burges Johnson

I
Whose dolly is you?
Dearie me! I declare
Your eyes are tipped up and they've pulled out your hair,
And your snub little nose, and your fingers and toes
And your curious clo'es
Kind of frighten me, too!
Whose dolly is you?
II
Whose dolly is you?
Dearie me! Can it be
They are tired of dollies, 'way over the sea?
Does nobody care for a baby out there,
But cuddles a bear
Or a doggie or two?
Whose dolly is you?
III
Whose dolly is you?
Did they send you to me
'Cause they know I'm as lonesome as lonesome can be?
I'd like to have dollies like me, for a while
But I've gone out of style--
I'm nobody's, too!
Whose dolly is you?
………………………………..
He played himself in Saved by Parcel Post, a silent short 1913 film

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/31/2005 03:51AM by ilza.

but the illustrations are by Edwina (Frances Edwina Dumm 1893 - 1990),
a famous cartoonist, first woman with a daily syndicated comic of her own,
the creator of Cap Stubbs & Tippie
( to this day, one of the longest-lived syndicated newspaper comic strips)

Her brother Robert Dennis wrote the verses for the amazing
Alec, the Great - 1001 (actually !) verses - wise, witty and cheerful
publ 1946

I am a huge fan of her work ( she later on her life turned to watercoloring)
and once did a rather extensive research about her life for a friend

Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 06/14/2005 06:54AM by ilza.