THE DAY YOU DIE,YOU ARE JUST BORN
YOU CAN BE KILLED,YOUR SPIRIT CAN’T BE TORN
SURROUNDED BY HYPOCRITE FRIENDS AND ENEMIES HYPOTHETICAL
MAKING YOUR EVERY MOMENT SO CRITICAL
EVEN ENJOYED YOUR DEEPEST CUTS
REMEMBERING THAT THE DARKEST HOUR HAS ONLY 60 MINUTES

YOU ALONE HAVE TO FACE THE CRITICS
WHEN EVERYTHING SURROUNDED TURNED INTO BRICKS
STILL YOU SURVIVE IN BETWEEN
A WORLD WHICH IS SO MEAN-
TO TAKE ADVANTAGE
WHETHER YOU DO A JOB OR STUDY IN A COLLEGE

YOU ALWAYS RECOVER FROM YOUR PAST
WHETHER YOU WERE PLACED FIRST OR AT THE LAST
HARDLY ANYONE HELPS YOU RISE
STILL YOU FLY FASTER THAN ALL THE FLIES

LIKE ALL THE BOOKS IN THE LIBRARY
YOUR NAME IS ALSO ISOLATED IN HIS DIARY
YOU ARE ALONE EVEN IN A GROUP
THOUGH YOUR LIFE FOLLOWS A CLOSED LOOP
YOU HAVE NO ALLIES BUT ONLY AGENTS
YOU ARE A SUPERPOWER LIKE THE COLOURLESS PAINTS

GOD IS ONE.EVEN HE IS ISOLATED
YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE WHOM YOU CREATED
YOU ARE YOUR FATHER,YOU ARE YOUR MOTHER
YOU ARE YOUR BROTHER,YOU ARE YOUR SISTER
EVERYONE SURROUNDED IS ONLY YOU
IT’S YOU AND YOU ALONE IN THE QUEUE

SUN IS ALONE,SO IS THE MOON
YOU WILL LEAVE YOUR CLONE AT THE DARKEST NOON
WITH THE SAME PAIN GOD LETS YOU OFF THE FREEDOM
WHICH HE GAVE THE DAY YOU WERE CREATED
AND WHICH YOU ENJOYED DURING A STARDOM WHICH WAS ISOLATED

The radio says its RAINING-
An I know very well-
That every road in TEXAS
Is SLIPPERY as hell!

Down there in Mighty DALLAS-
The POLICEMEN STAND AROUN’-
When KENNEDY tried to just ride by-
They let em SHOOT HIM DOWN!

It took six seconds in Texas-
To change the world aroun’
They have marked the place there in the street-
WHERE THE GUNMEN SHOT HIM DOWN!

WE NEVER FORGET TEXAS!
Fort Worth, and Abaline-
The moon is shinging bright down there-
A lighting up a dream.

And we don’t forget DALLAS!
THAT IS A MIGHTY TOWN!
When our brave KENNEDY went down there-
THREE GUNMEN SHOT HIM DOWN!

I never can see Caroline, without a little sigh,
And “Jackie” with her dress, so small and slim-
I can’t forget the PRESIDENT, as he went walking by-
Someday I know we’ll ALL REMEMBER HIM!

What will we do, when days go by-
And…..they are gone away?
What other man can ever match his smile?
The singing birds, and butterflies,
And lambs let out to play,
Will bring me CAROLINE, a little while!

We CAN”T forget the President,
The trouble he has had-
His curly hair just laughed-
Tho he was grim!
The winds across the world are strong-
And….everything is bad-
But, when he’s gone,
Then we’ll remember him!

The morning sun is breaking
Through the gloomy eastern sky-
the world is slowly turning on its wheel-
Is there a “House of Never”
Where the mighty seem to fly?
A far off better land, in By and By!

He always had a voice of HOPE-
A vision for the world!
A GOLDEN STAIRWAY, LEADING US TO PEACE,
The common man could see it-
Like a pathway, in the sky!
A GALLAHAD… who sought the Golden Fleece!

They claim DRAKE said “WHEN I AM GONE”
“HANG MY DRUM IN A TREE!”
“POUND ON IT WHEN YOUR POWDER’S RUNNING LOW!”
And…”I will leave the farthest star,
To come, oer land and sea,
And help you, as I used to long ago!

We’ll go sailing down the Channel-
We’ll take the ships to sea!
WE SILL SAIL THEM, AS WE USED TO, LONG AGO!

The news came from Washington,
right from the wire-
“Feed-the-poor-pheasants!” like
a prairie on fire!
John found a pheasant, its last
strength was shorn,
And it died in his hand, too late
to eat corn!

The pheasants get such a sad
gleam in their eyes,
When they take the last look, at
the wide open skies!
They can’t dig through snow, a
few weed-seeds forlorn,
And all that they need, a few
handfuls of corn!

The big Soil Bank acres, that’s
where they lay,
The snow is so deep, and they
can’t get away!
You find the big holes they dug,
struggling along,
With nothing to eat, and the
strawpiles are gone.

The spring-days are only a short
ways away–
The brook will be singing, where
soft breezes play:
The grainfields will wave, as the
warm wind goes by:
But not for the bird who looked
last at the sky.

They once were so happy, the
summer-days made
“A Garden of Eden!” in sunshine
and shade,
They died in a snowdrift, for-
saken, forlorn,
When no one came down the
road, bringing them, corn.

The wild geese flying over-
Flying far- and flying free-
Oh, the Prairie Farmers dreaming-
There his greatest pleasures be!

He can hear the wild geese calling
Flying free, and flying far-
And the tired Farmer’s dreaming-
There his only pleasures are!

Theres a hill, away out yonder-
Theres a field- that once was mine-
In the years beyond tomorrow,
Take me back, to supper-time!

With the horses standing chewing-
In the old grey barn, out there-
And the wind, just softly blowing-
O’er a Land of little care!

Take me back, to those old spring days,
When the Farmer, followed plow-
And the world was way out yonder-
Past the hills, we saw put west-
And the days were long, and quiet-
Even birds had time to sing-
When I heard, the wild geese calling-
From the clouds, that frift and blow-
Drift and blow, across te summer-
And- the – spring – time — long ago.

There is no song so dear to me-
Till lifes last tale is told-
and over her tomb, the silver moon
Turns all her beams, to gold!

Was there a valley of singing trees?
And a kingdom by the sea?
And was there a girl who ran along
By the name of “Annabel Lee”?
Do you think that the Angels cried
When Annabel Lee was gone?

And the moon never beamed
But the Poet dreamed
Of his beautiful Annabel Lee-
And his thoughts went back
To the haunted tomb
Down by the lonely sea……
“TO HER TOMB….BY THE SOUNDING SEA!

My youth is gone, for many a year,
But the moon and the stars still gleam!
And I can never read Annabel Lee
Without going back, in a dream.

An the little valley they left one day
Is the same as it used to be-
And Poe said he was happy there……
IN THAT KINGDOM…….BY……THE……SEA!

And the moon never beams,
Without bringing him drams-
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee………
Yes the moon never beams,
Without bringing him dreams
And the stars that were beight as her eyes……
And the springtime valley they left one day….
Still under the moonlight lies.

And I have played it all my life-
Since that golden time-
And every fidddle that I had-
Sang this old song of mine!

“When the moon has climbed the Mountains”
Seemed the sweetest line to me :
Tho I never saw the Mountains-
Beside the prairie sea!

And Nellie Gray was gone one day,
They tied her with a chain-
They wore her girlhood heart away-
Out in the sugar cane!

Till Angels looked down from the sky,
Above the Southern Pine-
And freed the soul of Nellie Gray-
We go floating down the river
As we did in days gone by-
In that happy golden summer, far away.

When prairie winds blow as the winter goes by
She sleeps there alone without me
And my fiddle keeps singing of a long ago summer
like the leaves in the cottonwood tree
Tho youth has gone by
And the young days are gone
Then she is here- with my fiddle and me
And we still are singing of the bright days of summer
The young girl and the fiddle and me

The last days of summer
When i was a young man
And her daddy asked me “when are you gunna wed?
I looked away across the snow, and I told him-
and i might-
“I’ll get a fiddle instead.”

Now the years have gone by
And the young days are gone
And the fiddle still hangs around with me
And the young girl is sleeping alone on the prairie
in her grave by the cottonwood tree

I remember the day and the cranky old man
and the girl who was still seventeen
and my fiddle keeps singing of a long ago summer
of school days and the sunshine and beam
Oh the years have gone by and the young days are gone
there are the songs on the prairie for me and the young girl is sleeping
thirty years along by the cottonwood tree

This was a pupil of mine when I was a teacher. I was her teacher fifty years ago.

Related Posts

• Your Poems Your Stories: Pioneers (3)
• Wistful memoirs (0)
• What’s Your “Once Upon a Time” Story? (0)
• War Poem, War Machine (2)
• Walking With Eliana (3)

Because the road was steep and long-
And through a dark and lonely land-
God set upon my lips a song-
And…….put a lantern in my hand!

For tho the road was dark and long,
And through a dry and prairie land-
God gave me this gift of song-
And rhymes were lanterns….in my hand!

So I always carry these little rhymes-
And…..send them away….to you from me…….
SO READ THEM KIND…and understand…..
THEY ARE GIFTS……all wapped in poetry!

She is with me yet-
Tho the summers are gone-
And she never can come back again-
She is still with me yet-
And we sing our old songs-
On the strings of the long slanting rain!

She seems to be here-
And we still sing our songs-
On the weaving bright strings of the rain!

They left her out there in her grave
North of town-
She could write no more letters to me-
But a blue feather came here
That night, drifting down,
And I know that her heart is set free!

Related Posts

• Your Poems Your Stories: Pioneers (3)
• War Poem, War Machine (2)
• Thoughts of A Wedding – A Poem by GW Hutson (0)
• For Jamyang Kyi (0)
• YELLOW SKY (0)

John had been out here at HOME, in Dakota, and head seen the bundle-stacks,
and the HOBOS pitching them in the machine, and these bundles were the
“MEMORIES OF SUMMER”……

My heart, O it’s not in the city…..
With its crowds, moving where, no one knows!
It is out on the plains….that are pretty………
With their winds….and their storms……and their snows!

Its out where the sunsets are gleaming!
In purple, and russet, and gold!
And the freedom is great as is told in
The tales of the VIKINGS of old!

Its out where “THE MEMORIES OF SUMMER”
DO STAND IN THE TRAIL OF THE BO-
Who comes with his pitchfork, and “hummer”- (little tune he hums)
AND STAYS TILL THE NORTHERNERS blow! (NORTHERLIES)

THE PRAIRIES…..THE PRAIRIES ARE CALLING!
Me back to my horse and my plow-
AND IT’S THERE THAT MY BUNK I’LL BE HAULING
AS…..SOON…..AS….THE….FATES….WILL….ALLOW!