Lucky Day

Luck is not a lady
It is not on a run
Luck doesn't wear horseshoes
Or have dried up rabbit's feet
Luck is just what happens
When you get up every day.

Tin Roof Drummer

The old tin roof started a tip a tap beat
As the first drops of rain hesitated
Tip tap tippa tippa tap came the beat
Down the holler the storm danced
Tin roof played a marching tune
Louder and harder the rain played
Thunder crashed and rattled windows
Rain paused and tin roof slowed
Tap tip tappa tappa tip tip
High on the hills the storm brooded
Turned loose the winds that shook
Almost lifting that ol' tin roof away
Like beating a bass drum rains boomed
Beating and banging without rhythm
Flailing and thumping and beating
Till those inside sat quiet and afraid
The storm paused, seemed satisfied
Moved away from the holler swiftly
Leaving just a few drops to play
A simple tune on the ol' tin roof
Tap tap tip tappa tap.

Lightning Bugs

You ever wonder
Why little kids
Chase lightning bugs
Then sit mesmerized
Watching a mason jar?

Gone Fishin'

The bank of the deep and slow movin' river
Gives up tell tale signs to the experienced eye.
A well worn path leads down through the woods
At the end of the path is an open clearing.
A trail follows thinly along the bank of the river
The clearing, though not expansive, is room enough.
The tell tale signs are there, just look and see
Dirt pressed down hard by shoe and boot
Limbs overhead cut back and kept away.
Down close on the shoreline... see just there
Branches cut and trimmed in a "Y" shape
Pushed deep into the muddy river's edge.
Out in the water you can see the reason why.
Clear water moves slow like over rocks
Rills and shimmers quiver on the surface.
An old log lay submerged and inviting
Water skippers dance a dance as if on ice.
Tiny bugs buzz without caution close to the surface...
Then, without warning, almost too fast to see
A big ol' bass rises up from the bottom.
He was hidden just below that dang ol' log
Breakin' the surface with little effort
His mouth opens to monstrous dimensions
And closes on a morsel of fat and juicy beetle.
Faster than fast he swallows and is gone.
Yep, this is the place we were lookin' for
We nod at each other and smile. 

The Memory of Simple Things

Oh, to be sittin' in a holler,
Right there on the front porch
Of an ol' mountain cabin
With coffee in one hand
An' the other restin' just so
Tn the back of a sorry hound dog. 
Just waitin' for the sun to rise up. 
Chickens are already cluckin' "cut, cut, cuuuck". 
Birds area a singin' in the trees
As the sun peeks just over that hill in the east.
I just close my eyes and I am always there.
I know the holler, the creek runnin' through,
The chestnut logs at my back,
The rough saw pattern of every board on that porch. 
I have memorized them all.
Always am there, always will be
Just behind the closin' of my eyes.

Mason Jars

Mason jars stand lined carefully
Each full and colorful in content
A dust has settled on them as they wait
To be chosen, to be used.
Beans and tomatoes, green and red
Kraut, chopped and stuffed tight into jars
Pickles, juices, jams and jellies
Row after row, shelf after shelf
Reminders of a happy harvest.

Home in the Holler

Down the holler, way deep down it now
Wander down the ol' dirt road almost to the end
There, can't you see the rooftop just above the trees?
Now, when Summer is here you won't even see that
The trees will green up an' it will be like some secret
A secret place hidden from this century
The ol' rail fence still standin' wrapped around with ivy
Daffodils lined up in front like a welcome committee
The tin roof is clean and bright in the sun
When the car engine is turned off there is just
Silence.