April 10th……….“WAS THERE EVER AN ITEM FROM YOUR CHILDHOOD HOMETOWN IN MINNESOTA THAT CAME BACK INTO YOUR LIFE LATER ON?”
POEM – “The Rove Of Mr. Clove” by N. Elliott Noorlun
Elliott’s brother, Lowell, found this in an antique store over 80 miles from Kiester, Minnesota.
I ponder as to when, My little glass friend,
That you had decided to rove,
From Paulson Drugs and Kiester,
A tiny bottle we’ll call, “Mr. Clove”.
This is where “Mr. Clove” first lived, which was at Paulson Rexall Drug Store on Main Street in Kiester, Minnesota. Just think of the wonderful ways Mr. Paulson put clove oil to use in helping folks to heal.
In days gone by, Mr. Paulson, great guy,
Would pull you down from his shelf,
To ease someone’s pain, With their good health to gain,
You were a popular pixie elf.
From an advertisement in the 1963 “Rambler” Yearbook, our very respected pharmacist, Mr. Paulson, creates something to aid one of our town folk.
You sat there with pride,
Of an assortment quite wide,
With other bottles of medicinal elixir.
Should farm lady come in,
With a wart on her chin,
In a minute came the potion to fix ‘er!! 😉
What’s comical in this graphic is item #4. I don’t think anyone wants to reLIVE stress; they want to relieve stress!! 😉 hehehe!!
Someone, “Mr. Clove”, must’ve needed your power,
To help them through their ailing hour,
Because you left “Paulson’s”, And traveled for miles,
Maybe toothache had turned someone sour?
Languishing away on a dusty antique store shelf, “Mr. Clove” must’ve been lonely for the good old days in Kiester.
Whether pocket, or purse, Or suitcase of nurse,
You traveled a journey so far,
To Mantorville town, Quiet place of reknown,
Did you hitchhike and ride someone’s car?
Lost in a plethora of knick-knacks n paddy-whacks, “Mr. Clove” no longer shined important as he had in the medicinal arsenal of Mr. Paulson.
There you sat on a shelf, Not quite feeling yourself,
That cluttered antique store now home.
Among all that junk, You were feeling a funk,
Cause you’re now just a lost little gnome.
Do you think “Mr. Clove” rejoiced to see another “face”, in the form of Elliott’s brother, from his old hometown?
But through your glass eyes, You saw a surprise,
A face from your old hometown.
He recognized you, And saw you were blue,
So he bought you to erase your frown.
Elliott was given the gift of “Mr. Clove” by his brother, Lowell. Now Elliott mixes memories with each whiff of the still viable clove oil inside.
Now you once again live, On a home shelf to give,
Out the fragrance you still have inside.
“Mr. Clove’s” back among friends, With the fragrance he lends,
I may be only one oat seed in a field of millions, yet I have a story to share of beginnings on our beloved farm in southern Minnesota and beyond to life as I've seen it to this point. Famous? No. Gifted? Unlikely. Yet, I want to leave a legacy to my children and grandchildren of who this gentle Norwegian man was. My happy times, sad times, successes and failures. Someday, those who are tiny now, will have this volume to come to and get to know this Norwegian Farmer's Son.
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Norwegian Farmer's Son 