If you go back home
To the hollers you wandered in
Up on the hillsides
Close to the homestead
Look deep in the brambles
See stones a standin'
Reminders of those
Who have gone before.
Some unkempt an' overgrown
Some tended neat
Yet all silent testaments
Of lost love, life and home.
Sandstone worn with
Nary a word
Visible to the eye.
Underneath lies pilgrim bones
Waiting for that trump.
Marble some, milky smooth
Letters crisp and clear.
Yet all harmonize,
Sing the same song,
Reminding all who see;
This here's a good spot,
I'll just take me a rest
Till time to go on home.
As pilgrims sleep
They rest In peace
Knowing they slumber on
Beneath the poplar and sycamore
Safe on the hills
Of home.
Stories, Old Ragged Verse, Letters to and from mountain cousins by Storyteller and Appalachian Humorist Stephen Hollen. Enjoy the humor and bittersweet memories of Eastern Kentucky and a place where the mist crawls down the mountainside ''like molasses on a cold plate''
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Spring Song
Sing me a Song of Spring
Of Daffy-dills peekin'
Over on the roadside.
Pussywillow sneakin' out
Her catkins.
Hum me a little bitty tune
Of warmer days an'
Sweet blue skies,
Trees a bloomin'
An' waters warmin.
A song of life an' joy
An' promise...
A song of life renewed
Of the everlast of the hills.
A song that will resound in the rocks,
Be whistled by the sparrow
Hummed by the bees an' wasps an' mud duabers
As they mud their cradles
In the logs of my home.
Of Daffy-dills peekin'
Over on the roadside.
Pussywillow sneakin' out
Her catkins.
Hum me a little bitty tune
Of warmer days an'
Sweet blue skies,
Trees a bloomin'
An' waters warmin.
A song of life an' joy
An' promise...
A song of life renewed
Of the everlast of the hills.
A song that will resound in the rocks,
Be whistled by the sparrow
Hummed by the bees an' wasps an' mud duabers
As they mud their cradles
In the logs of my home.
Labels:
Appalachian poetry,
mountains,
Stephen Hollen
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