Minters Spring

Walking through the moss rocks and down the winding trail
We carried our lunch in our little tin pails.
Eager to see what each new day would bring
We headed for the school at old Minters Spring.

The rain and cold weather left our clothes wet
Those long walks to school, I remember them yet.
Our little bare feet, blue from frost sting
We were headed for the school at old Minters Spring.

When spring arrived, some days we were late
There were butterflies to chase and Mrs. Royder’s cake.
Those things were important and everything
As we headed for school at old Minters Spring.

Our teacher was small she had pretty red hair
We loved her as a treasure, we knew she was rare.
She gave us the spirit to make our heart sing
As we headed for the school at old Minters Spring.

I remember those days more than any other
All in one room with sister and brother.
There was something there, that was a special thing
As we headed for the school at old Minters Spring.

I Wonder

Sometimes I wonder about everything
What makes flowers blue and the grasses green
What power makes the birds soar
And why on earth does the lion roar?

The lion is such a beastly thing
The animal world says he is king
The elephant’s trunk hangs down so low
Why is it called a trunk, where does he go?

Did Humpty Dumpty really fall off a wall
Is the Jolly Green Giant ten feet tall
Does the humming bird really hum
Can the little tin soldier really play a drum?

How about Rudolph and his shiny red nose
Beauty and the Beast and the blue rose
I can’t help wonder about all this
The prince, Snow White and the magic kiss.

How could a cow jump over the moon
Did the seven little dwarfs all sleep in one room?
I wonder about all this fairy tale bliss
And I’m so afraid there’s something I’ll miss.

Old Man Will

There was an old house sittin’ on a hill
Belonged to an old man by the name of Will
Folks say it was haunted and I believe it too
Just listen to the story I’m about to tell you.

One dark night when the moon was high
Folks said they could hear an old woman cry
They said they could see her wrapped up in a chain
Her head split open without any brain.

The rats were crawling in and out of her hair
Folks wanted to get closer but they didn’t dare
She was killed with an ax, they said, by old man Will
After he’d done it he ran off down the hill.

He ran to the swamps all murky and damp
Folks say he’s still there, livin’ like a tramp
They say he went, crazy as a loon
He won’t come out of that horrible lagoon.

Dogs started howling late one night
The town folk started looking at a terrible sight
The old house was burning in a terrible roar
The old lady was laughing as never before.

She was free at last of the house on the hill
Some folk say she went down to get even with Will
They say when the moon is full at night
You can hear them in the lagoon having a terrible fight.

She beat him with the chain, she had just begun
To torch him for the evil he had done
She was out to get even with old man Will
For what he had done that night on the hill.

The Quilt

She sat on the porch rocking to and fro
She didn’t know what to do or where to go.
Old Jake had left, said he wasn’t coming back
Packed up some salt pork and some hard tack.

She was left to take care of little baby Flo
She really was worried as she rocked to and fro.
She worked on her quilt thinking with all her might
What she planned to do just wasn’t right.

She got herself dressed, looked just like a man
Would go to the local bank, she had a good plan.
She packed the old pistol and headed for town
Walked into the bank and said, “You-all lay down.”

“I’ve come for some money, give it all to me”
Her body shook so hard she could hardly see

She sat on the porch rocking to and fro
She had taken care of little baby Flo.
Look in the quilt and you will surely find
Money that she hid there for her peace of mind.

Fickle Woman

Fickle woman, fickle woman, where have you been?
I’ve been to the city to buy a jig of gin.
I looked in the mirror and saw my sad eyes
As I looked, I began to realize.

That life is for the living, to take and to give
That it’s about time that I learn to live.
Fickle woman, fickle woman, where have you been?
I’ve been to the city to fetch a jig of gin.

To fetch a jig of gin and dream my life away
To wink at the guys as we dance and sway.
To wear my red dress and sing a love song
To laugh, dance and sing all night long.

Fickle woman, fickle woman, where have you been?
I’ve been to the city to fetch a jig of gin.
To fetch a jig of gin and start a new life
I’m yearnin’ to be somebody’s new wife.

Bein’ by myself ain’t part of the the plan
But darnit , so far all the guys ran.
I’ll color my hair and paint my lips red
Prance through the streets and knock them all dead.

I am the jiggy woman full of jiggy gin
Don’t tell me you just want to be my friend.
I’m out on the prowl, may take all my life
But I’m bound and determined to be a new wife.

Fickle woman, fickle woman, where have you been?
I’ve been to the city to fetch a jig of gin.

My Darlin Husband

My husband sez I am smart, thets whi he marred me,
He nose what he’s takin about, A&M giv him a degree.
When we do email, I hav to correct his spellin,
I don’t know wher he lernd to spell, ther jest ain’t no tellin.

He gives me a diagram headache, correctin him all the time,
If he’d jest listen to me, Id giv him a yankee dime.
I say, lets rite yur kids a letter, I know jest what to do,
We owe them one, Its ben long overdew.

Going to tel them we went up Dallus wey,
Went to sea the grankid, sat and watchd her play.
Her mom give me some flours, strait out of her garden growed,
I was mitey proud to git them, loaded the kar and hit the rode.

We heded for home, got on a fancy hiway,
Talked about the fun we had and how we spent the day.
He said, “Do I turn here or go strait ahed?”
I told him to watch wher he was goin or we’d both be dead.

I think weir goin to Huston, I can hardly wate,
Weir goin to get on email and set up a date.
I no I can find the house, easy as can be,
Cause he says I am so smart and he’s so proud of me.

Abigail's Song

Entering into the realms of glory, drifting away from the silky shroud
Abigail wraps her wings around her, carrying her, softly as a cloud.
No fear will she feel as she journeys along
For the angel will be singing “Abigail’s Song."

Precious Lord, this child I bring to you, take her hand
She has done her work on earth and ‘oer the mighty land.
I sang a song for her as we floated through the light
Take her hand precious Lord as she travels in her flight.

Abigail sang, “Come to the light. ‘Tis shining in this place
Sweetly the light has shown upon your precious face.
Once you were blind but now you can see
The light of the Lord has shined upon thee."

My Friend

I was going to write a song for you about my life
To tell you about some happiness and some strife
Then I remembered that I told you nearly everyday
In the way I handled my work and in my play

Perhaps I wasn’t smiling and you knew that I was sad
Or maybe I had a mean look, you knew that I was mad
It could have been a song, especially for you to hear
Trying to say, you are my friend, I like having you near

To tell you that I love you in many special ways
To say I thank you for your prayers on all those days
I was going to put it in a song, a message loud and clear
But you had already seen my life, you didn’t have to hear.

Jake

Jake was a mule and lazy as could be
Lying around all day under the old oak tree.
Pa needed old Jake to help plow a field
He told my ma, old Jake just won’t yield.

Pa worked half a day trying to get Jake up
Ma came out of the house with something in a cup
Pa ask what she was going to do “what you got there?”
He reply was a “little lye, he’ll get up I swear.“

She got a great big corn cob, had a little plan
Rubbed some lye on his rump and away he ran
He was bucking and kicking, jumping left and right
Kicking at everything that was in his sight.

Ma said “I will teach that stubborn mule, he’s got to mind me”
Old Jake just continued on his jumping, kicking spree
He kicked down the old fence, tore up the flower bed
Kicked down the chicken coop his rump real red.

Ran as fast as he could to the old water tank
Jumped right in with great relief and down he sank
Pa said, “We need to get him out of there as fast as we can”
But in his mind Jake had another plan.

He stayed in the water the rest of the day
The fields not plowed yet I am sorry to say
Ma and pa went to the house, didn’t know how to swim
Had to leave old Jake, the sky was getting dim.

They went to bed that night, was tired as they could be
Got up the next morning and what did they see
There was old Jake under the tree content
Ma got a cup of lye, she was hell bent.

Lullaby

Restless, I wander about not knowing why peace will not come.
As I step into the cool night air I am in awe at the beauty as silver hues quietly sift through the trees casting age old shadows.
The stars are playing a symphony to the earth and the moon is softly singing a lullaby.
The sacred old owl and wolf join in and reach their god. The coyote will not be ignored.
Nature goes within herself as she is calmed by the twinkling symphony.
My heart swells at the stillness and beauty of the night and I softly sing to my God.

The Bell

It was in 1880 when they moved to this small town
He was just a little boy and wanted to look around.
The big Brazos river ran by Old Washington Square
Lots of important history has been recorded there.
As he rambled through the trees, he saw a church that had been built with majestic care
There were some big boys looking in a well, he wondered why they were there.
They had something on a rope being lowered down inside
The little boy shaking with fear thought he had better hide.
Behind a tree he hid, the thing on the rope they were holding tight
He prayed that he was hid and was well out of sight.
As the boys released the rope it dropped into the well
The boys all sworn to secrecy, the story of the bell.
The church members had bought a bell and put it on the book
When the people heard it ringing they all came out to look.
Was there a fire somewhere or had someone died
A man was calling to them, please come on inside.
He said “The loan man is coming and we have no money for the bell”
That was when the big boys got the idea of hiding it in the well.
What about the little boy hiding behind the tree
The big boys discovered him there and were as angry as could be.
They grabbed him by the neck, shook him hard and strong
If you ever tell our secret you won’t live very long.
For eighty six years he kept the secret locked up tight inside
He called his daughter to his death bed just before he died.
He said “ Sister, I have kept a secret that I would like to tell”
“It’s all about some big boys and a bell in a well."

Double Ugly

My Mama always said I was as ugly as could be
Whenever we had company, I’d hide behind a tree.
She said my nose looked like a door knob and legs were terribly bowed
I guess my Mama noticed how much my freckles glowed.

My toes look like a monkey’s, I can really climb a tree
My eyes a little squinty and crossed as they can be.
She said I’d never marry, a sack he’d put over my head
I didn’t know how to cook, even baking bread.

As I would sing a song all the animals ran
Sounded like scratching on a chalk board or an old tin pan.
Well Ma, I’m here to tell you that I am married now and happy as can be
I married the sweetest feller’ who’s blind and cannot see.

Shadows

The shadows hang over me as I think of what has been
Of the times I stumbled and fell, got up and started again.
I cannot change events of the past nor would I even try
The lessons my shadows have taught me will guide me until I die.

The shadows hang over me as I think of what has been
If I lived my life over, I would have shadows again.
If you think you have no shadows and your life is sparkly clean
Must be a wonderful feeling, making you rather supreme.

I think of my accomplishments, not linger on shadows of the past
And thank God for the many blessings, life goes by so fast.
The shadows hang over me and I think of what has been
Of the times I stumbled and fell, got up and started again.

Softly and Gently

I saw a light shining from far away
I followed it with my heart, hoping it would stay
Softly and gently it unfurls it’s light
So beautiful , so lovely, even through the night.
I saw a light shining from far away
Never to be extinguished as we laugh and play
A light as beautiful as the evening rainbow
The light was you, surely you know.

Misery

She made a quick trip to the grocery store
Arrived home in a little while and opened the door
There he sat, bleary eyed and in a stare
She couldn’t help wonder what had happened there.

He sat like a zombie staring into space
She couldn’t help wonder what had happened in this place
Had someone died, had his pet run away
Should she fall on her knees and start to pray.

My goodness what has happened here
He looked so sad and shed a little tear
Handed her an envelope, his expression would kill
Tucked inside was the Exxon bill.

Jitterbug

She was always restless as she could be
Looking down the road to see what she can see
Wondering where it goes in its turns and bend
In it’s winding way, does it ever end?

The desire so great to travel as far as she can
Taking in the views of the magnificent land
Some things so majestic like the beautiful flowers
She could travel on for hours and hours.

Desiring to visit her friends young and old
Knowing they are more precious than pure gold
Her mom would ask, “What’s wrong with you child? I just don’t see."
Her reply always was, “Guess it’s the jitterbug in me.”

Always so miserable when not on the go
Not caring if it is in the rain or snow
Always curious about the moon, stars and rolling sea
And thinking to herself, it’s the jitterbug in me.

She is a bit older now, still restless as can be
Wanting to venture far to see what she can see
Always buzzing around, busy as a bee
Telling herself, it’s the jitterbug in me.

Heaven

When I was a little girl, a story my momma told
About a beautiful city made of pearls, silver and gold
She called this place “Heaven” where the goods ones would meet
After they had passed away, their loved ones they would greet.

She told me if I was good to Heaven I would go
Loving one another and telling no lies you know
That was a long time ago, mom has already gone
Now at my old age, it won’t be very long.

Now, I have some questions to ask before I reach that gate
I need to ask St. Peter before it is too late
Will there be diapers to wash, food to cook and dishes sitting there?
Beds to make, clothes to mend and dust flying everywhere?

I need to ask St. Peter, can I really see the King?
Will the angels really be there for me to hear them sing?
If he tells me no diapers to wash, no dishes, cooking or dust
He’s known to be a good man. One I know to trust.

Wonder if he would sign a contract just to make sure
I’ve had all this earthly stuff I think I can endure.

The Bench

He was sitting on the bench, taking in the sun
At ninety-six years, his life was nearly done
The lady saw him sitting there and stopped for a little talk
As she passed the nursing home taking her morning walk.

She ask what his life was like, where was he born
Did he have to pick cotton and chop rows of corn?
He told her he picked cotton, remembering it oh so well
Remembered the green spider bites and bole spikes under his nail.

He said “I could pick nigh a hundred pounds a day”
“My baby brother ridin’ on my sack, slept a while and then would play”
He had the longest sack of anyone in the field
Filling it full of cotton, his back aching enough to kill.

He was the fastest picker, picking the long, long rows
Not leaving the cotton field until the lamp light glows
He picked without a hat, never had a pair of shoes
Remembered all the songs he sang about the black man’s blues.

He talked about the pecan orchard and how he’d shake the trees
Picking pecans all day long while bending on his knees
The old man looking so wistful thinking of the past
She wanted to ask if he had family but was afraid to ask.

The Keepsake Box

I have a little keepsake box that holds pictures and locks of curly hair
It holds some precious notes and things someone wished to share

It tells of my memories and things of what has been
Secrets that I hold in my heart of way back when.

I can’t share the box with you, the things are mine to keep
If I should pass this earth one night while I am fast asleep

Take the little box and place it next to me
So that I can have it with me for my God to see.

Grandma Froze

She went to be early, fell fast asleep
After saying her prayers, my soul to keep
Drifted along in a world of dreams
Had been asleep for a long time it seems.

Her eyes flew open, thinking out loud
“I forgot to cover the flowers from the snowy cloud”
She crawled out of bed, to the porch she headed
The cold winter night, she really dreaded.

She stepped into the night, my goodness it was cold
Grabbed her cane and acting real bold
Stepped on the ice, one foot left, the other one right
Held onto her cane with all her might.

In spite of her efforts, down she fell
Like a good Baptist, shouted “Oh, hell”
My goodness it was cold laying out there
Wished she had worn her long underwear.

She shivered and shook, chilled to the bone
Laying on the porch cold and alone
Getting mighty sleepy, she began to snore
Laying there sleeping on the old cold floor.

Grandma froze, what a terrible sight
Laying on the floor in the middle of the night
The kids would be coming for Christmas day
To eat grandma’s cooking and watch the kids play.

They all came to grandma’s expecting a treat
Having lots of food and goodies to eat
When they arrived, what did they see?
Poor grandma frozen, as stiff as could be.

They all started screaming in such despair
“Run get some blankets and her long underwear”
They covered her with blankets and crying all around
She opened her eyes and jumped with a bound.

She headed for the kitchen, she had food to bake
Those stupid flowers had made her lunch late
“You kids set the table, do it in a snap
You all knew I was taking a nap."

The Last Dance

I am an old woman now and as I dream back in time
of things I would like to try
I think about the things I would like to do before my time comes to die
I remember candle light dinners that were planned just for me
The long walks that we took, talking about our life to be
I want to hear the soft music and dance around the floor
I really yearn to do this, just once more.
It really does not need to be this way, life has become so dull
How I wish I could go back and break the spell of lull
To hear music softly playing and dance around the floor
It is what I would like to do… Just once more
To hear the whisper of sweet words that are meant for me knowing they are true
To sit by candlelight and long walks that are long, long overdue
To dance around the floor once more to music soft and sweet
To know that I am still alive until my loved ones to meet.

Fields

I walked through the woods, a beautiful day to be
Over to the plowed fields to see what I could see
I knew they had been there, many years ago,
What was their life like, on some we just don’t know.

The day perfect for hunting, eyes focused on the ground
Looking for the special one that is yet to be found
I think that I have found it but it’s just a little leaf,
Throwing it down with a big frown and feeling a bit of grief.

Slowly I walk and get a very special feeling
I know there is something there, my head is almost reeling
There is a clod of dirt, a piece of flint sticking out the side,
I brush it very lightly, praying it will be my pride.

Ever so easy I pull it out and to my great delight
It was a perfect one, all chipped just right
The day was perfect for hunting, eyes focused on the ground,
Looking for the perfect one, til now had not been found.

Grandma Got Drunk

It was time for Thanksgiving, She wanted to celebrate
Went to the kitchen, a chocolate cake she would bake
The children were coming, she was as happy as could be
Was so very excited, her children she was to see.

To celebrate she drank a large glass of wine
Put the cake in the oven, drank another for old time
She was really feeling good now, decided to go to the store
To buy another bottle just in case they needed more.

By the time grandma got to town, she was feeling mighty good
Saw a freight train passing by, would jump it if she could
Why not give it a try, she could catch it on the run
She took off running, caught the rail thinking “Oh what fun.”

Climbed in the boxcar laughing with delight
Looked in the corner and saw a terrible sight
The Hobo sitting there had a long dirty beard
He was double ugly and someone that she feared.

She told him in a drunken slur “YOU get off the train.”
His reply was, “I got here first, something has cooked your brain.”
She grabbed him by his beard and threw him out the door
Pretty drunk by now, she passed out on the floor.

The sheriff picked her up at the next train stop, hauled her off to jail
If she ever got out of this place what a story she would tell
She sat in there thinking of what she had learned
Thinking to herself, that cake is surely burned.

Home

He drove down the winding road, saw the old house standing there
Standing so majestic, it’s secrets not to share
The windows smiling back, happy to see him come home
Coming home to live, no more days to roam.

The trees his parents planted so many years ago
Embraced the majestic house swaying to and fro
He quietly opened the door, could smell scents of the past
The wallpaper faded now, knowing things don’t last.

He was coming home now, a bride he was to bring
Knowing it was a perfect time, would be a perfect thing
They would sit on the porch in the old wicker chairs
Just rocking to and fro, no worries or no cares.

Once again the old house would be filled with so much love
All the birds singing, hear the cooing of the dove?
They will share their love as on life’s journey they go
Strolling in the shadows of the evening rainbow

Memories

He sat in his room in his favorite chair
Thinking of memories he would not share.
She had gone on before him, left him in this place
The lines of missing her showed on his face.

He played the mandolin for her everyday
She would sit at the window and listen to him play.
Oh how he missed her as he played her song
Oh how he missed her now that she is gone.

The fingers bent now, no longer could he play
But the memories stayed with him everyday.
His memories so vivid it wasn’t long
The mandolin was in his hands playing her song.

Tears ran down his old wrinkled face
He was ready to meet her at that special place.
He clung to the memories wiping away his tears
Thinking of his love of so many years.

The Tree

Pa-paw received some wonderful news from his only son and wife
“Dad, you’re going to be a grandpa, there is a new life”
The pa-paw so excited, to impress he bought a pipe
A walking cane he also bought, looking so just right.

It wasn’t long before, there were two little girls
With beautiful blue eyes and a bouncy head of curls
They got all dressed up, to pa-paw’s house would go
They were his special pride, his face was all aglow.

He sat on the porch, waiting for them there
Dressed up with fancy bows, pinned in their curly hair
Out of the car they jumped with a leap and a bound
To greet the special pa-paw and something to be found.

He always had a surprise, hid it oh so well
The little girls with anticipation, knew he would never tell
He dug a hole and hid some money under a special tree
When the little ones found the money, they shouted out with glee.

With money in their pockets, he took them right to town
Down to the variety store to spend what they had found
To impress his friends, he made sure his pipe would show
Holding the little girls hands, his face was all aglow.

Chanting

When I was a little girl down to the tracks I would go
Hiding behind bushes so nobody would know.
I loved to listen to the men as they would chant and sing
Lifting their hammers and moaning with each clinking swing.
They sang about Jesus, mothers and death
Swinging their hammers with each catching breath.
These were all black men working on the rail
Chanting songs of life, each one a story to tell
Of sadness and happiness, clinking in rhythm right along
Down the tracks they were working, chanting and singing their song.
Each section had a leader, all the songs he knew
He led them in song moaning and chanting to this crew.
I would go home, my heart filled with love for the music of these men
Who worked so hard while singing, I wish I could hear them again.

Back When

I would like to mention a few things, bet you didn’t know
To mention some old ghost towns that maps no longer show
I wonder how they got their names and search my curious brain
Have you heard of Wobbly Bobbly, that crazy little train?

Think about the old towns that have long been gone
Goat Head, Crocodile and Dog Town, Bet you heard them in a song
There is Cut N’ Shoot, Turkey, Goat Neck and the little town of Clay
Chalk Bluff, Jaw Bone and Jack Ass Flats down south Texas way.

Nemo, Bono, Rainbow, Gun Barrel City and don’t forget Chew
Minters Spring, Dripping Springs and Cat Springs too
Indian Prairie, Blanket, Big Lump, Mule Shoe is still there
Gay Hill, Dime Box and don’t forget Pear.

There is Salt Gap, Fly Gap and regular old Fly
Honey Grove, China Grove and don’t forget Fry
Peach Creek, Big Creek, Cedar Creek and Yellow Prairie Too
Lobo, Black Ankle, Catfish and a little town called Blue.

I know there are lots more names like Stone City, Sand Flat and Chalk Bluff
But at this point I think you’ve read enough
Remembering those little towns was just like playing games
I just have to tell you that Bug Tussle and Frog Knott are my favorite names.

Night-In-Gale

She thought of herself as a Night-In-Gale, riding her coal black steed
Her killer sword hanging down from her side, ready to do her deed

The eyes smiling, her teeth clenched tight as she sang her nightingale song
The mind was set for her plans and yet, thinking she could do no wrong.

She rode with great speed in the dark of the night making plans to do her will
Her heart cold as ice not thinking twice of the spirits she was to kill

Selfish and self centered, driving her force as she sped onward the steed
When the time comes, she will meet her doom, her name is called … GREED.

The Secret

She kept looking over her shoulder to see that no one would follow
Headed for a special place she called “Violet Hollow.”
It was so quiet and peaceful there, hardly a sound could be heard
Far away she could hear the cooing of a softly singing bird.
It was her secret place and under big bushes grew
The most beautiful fragrant violets, all purple and blue.
She picked a little bouquet gave them to her mother with pride
Her family ask where she picked them, she answered “Oh, just outside.”
Many times she went there to show her mother her love
Each time that she went there was the cooing of the dove.
Her mother would smile and thank her with such a motherly pride
When they ask where she found them, she would answer “Oh, just outside.“
That was a long time ago and now she is old and frail
She thinks and smiles to herself for the secret she did not tell.

Lamplight

Sleepless nights from worry and terrible despair
Who could she turn to, someone who would care.
He had died and left her with the two little girls they had
She missed her loving husband and they missed their dad.
No money in the bank or in the sugar bowl
She had to think hard and act extremely bold.
A quilt she would sew fit for a queen
With brilliant colors of purple, red, gold and green.
She quickly got busy sewing both night and day
It could hold her over til’ she got her welfare pay.
She now knew what to do in her terrible plight
Sewing on her quilt during the day and by lamplight.
She drew a bunch of tickets with numbers properly displayed
Slipped on her shoes and oh God how she prayed.
Knocked on the doors and ask, “Could you buy a ticket please?“
Selling for ten cents each really was a breeze.
When all the tickets that were numbered had been sold
She announced the winner of the quilt sewn with purple, red, green and gold.
How pleased she was as she prepared a meal fit for a king
Taking care of her little girls was such a special thing.
The girls all tucked in bed now with mother by their side
Admiring her little girls with a special mother’s pride.
She became famous for her quilts of purple, red, green and gold
Attached to each hung a label of a story to be told.
Of a lady who’s heart was broken and sewed day and night
Bending over an old machine by the soft lamplight.

Ghost Dancing

She arose early that morning, excited as could be
Going to the land of artifacts, to see what she could see.
She drank her coffee and ate her breakfast feeling full of zest
Where she was going to hunt was one of the very best.
She took off for the hunting ground, was there in a little time
The sun coming up was really beginning to shine.
She knew that she had better hurry, the heat she could not bear
Oh my goodness, what does she see lying over there?
What a beauty it is, so rare and chipped so well
When she got home a great story she would tell.
It was so terribly hot, she knew that she should go
The heat so unbearable but temptation was great you know.

She began to drift, felt like she was floating down
Laying her aching head upon the rocky ground.
The faint sound of drums came floating from far away
Beating in time and rhythm, ghost figures began to sway.
They danced, yelping and chanting as she lay upon the ground
Chanting a song and beating the drums, as they danced all around.
A masked man appeared with potions in a bag and things made of fur
He began to blow smoke and it drifted over her.
As he chanted to her, put a potion on her head
She dreamed that she was laying on a furry kind of bed.
Slowly her eyes opened, why was she on the ground
Lying all alone in a place, never to be found.
She raised herself slowly in the sun’s blaring heat
Weak, spent and thirsty, she finally got on her feet.
Toward some shelter she walked, it wasn’t very far
Struggling one step at a time, getting to her car.
It must have been a dream, what had happened to her
As she looked down at her hands she held a piece of fur.

Five He Loves Me

The day was brisk, she looked up at the sky
Saw big blackbirds soaring high as they fly
She recalled an old story her sister taught her to say
While doing their chores or out at play.

Sister said, one bird is for sorrow, two for joy
Three you get a letter, four from a boy
She thought to herself, is that really true
As she looked at the birds gliding up in the blue.

But there were five, that means he loves me
She looked at the sky as far as she could see
Not another one there, oh, such silly things
Number five, if it’s true please flap your wings.

He dipped his wings soaring high in the sky
Her heart skipped a beat and she gave a big sigh
One bird for sorrow, two birds for joy
Three is a letter, four from a boy.

Five says he loves me, her heart running wild
What was she to believe, this silly child
She prayed, don’t let there be six and break the spell
As she raced to the house her sister to tell.

One is for sorrow, two for joy
Three is a letter, four from a boy
Five says HE LOVE’S ME, she believed it too
You count the birds, see what they tell you.

Bluebells

It was that time in summer when life within had died,
Nothing in life had meaning as she sat alone and cried.
Everything gone, nothing left but despair,
Lonely days, lonely nights and lots of prayer.

The heart wrung out, thoughts that made no sense,
A lifetime of memories that had been spent.
But then the bluebells bloomed, their strength and beauty to share,
The air was filled with music, floating everywhere.

Quietly as the winds blows he was at her side,
Where did he come from, was he to be her pride?
Had God sent him to her on the wings of a dove,
Will she walk close beside him, will there be love?

Will they share the sunlight, fallen leaves and winter snow,
As along life’s journey they will softly go?
Only God in his precious love can guide and protect her way,
Through the fields of dancing blue bells as they gently dance and sway.

Chasing Dreams

He had holes in his socks and patches on his jeans
A few bucks in his pocket, just didn’t care it seems
A Bull Durham sack hanging from his pocket
Had pawned his guitar and his wife’s gold locket.

No reason to leave Sally Jo, he loved her it seems
Just an old cowboy chasing his dreams
He whistled as he walked, old dog Bay trottin’ at his side
Not wanting to hitch any kind of ride.

Just looking at nature, sleeping with critters along the way
Sometimes he found an old barn filled with hay
Sally Jo went to town, replacing the salt pork and beans
She knew that he would always be chasing his dreams.

After a few days, he was lonesome as could be
It was Sally Jo, he was craving to see
He headed back home, old Bay at his side
In his heart he knew, Sally Jo was his pride.

He opened the door, she was sittin’ in her chair
His guitar in the corner, the locket was there
With a hoop and a holler and a little dance it seems
She knew he would always be chasing his dreams.

Preacher's Wife

She was sitting in the pew, looking so neat
Listening to her husband acting real sweet
He was a preacher man, spoke real loud
Getting his message over to the silent crowd.

She would smile, nod her head agreeing to what he said
While thinking to herself “Oh, drop dead”
The sermon was over and home they went
The day full of preaching, he was really spent

Nighttime came he went straight to bed
He really was an old sleepy head
She tip toed to the kitchen, got her hidden gin
Thought to herself, the fun can begin.

Put on her red dress and spiked heel shoes
Crawled out the window going to “Old Blues”
When she got there the music was loud
Everyone dancing, wasn’t the church crowd.

That sweet little thing had the time of her life
Forgot all about bein’ a preachers wife
The bar closed, she was homeward bound
Climbed through the window, didn’t make a sound.

—- more to come — stay tuned!

The Still

It was in 1929, the depression in full swing
It seemed as if life stopped, even the birds didn’t sing.
No work, no money, many children to feed
What was he going to do in this terrible time of need.

He had heard of men making rot gut whiskey at a homemade still
A good way to make money, his babies stomachs to fill.
He had two pearl handle pistols, put one on each hip
Went deep into the woods, the trees he began to chip.

A fire he built, to cook the grain would be the best he knew
Wearing his pearl handled pistols, and cooking his own brew.
The sheriff was always looking for rising smoke in the air
Hoping to catch someone, about families he did not care.

He would smash the still and haul stillers right off to jail
Our family sworn to secrecy, never, never to tell.
One day a man came riding up, said the sheriff was on his way
My dad knew he had to hurry as he began to pray.

He said “Lord, what I do may be wrong but I have children to feed”
Hid the whiskey under the barn floor and covered it with seed.
The sheriff came riding up looking all around
The whiskey that my dad hid, never to be found.

He made good whiskey, kept it pure indeed
He did it for his children, he knew he had to feed.