Showing posts with label Ohio storyteller Stephen Hollen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ohio storyteller Stephen Hollen. Show all posts

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Cowboy Dawn

 
 
An old cowpoke sat quiet and alone in the dark
Listenin' to the early birds and a distant coyote bark
His belly pretty full, coffee cup in his hand
Eyes roamin' and takin' in the lay of the land.
All too soon he'll be up and around
Never stoppin' a moment when his feet hit the ground.
His old dog sat and then laid down with a sigh
The old cowboy smiled quiet, his eyes on the sky
Way over yonder on the ridge stood a doe and her fawn
Silhouetted like a picture by the soft light of the dawn.
 

Friday, December 28, 2012

Wind wolves an' Dreams of Home


The cold of winter and snow thick on the roof make me mournful an' wantin' to see the hills.
When the wind blows hard an' this ol' house groans an' threatens to ease off its foundations
I lay awake an' listen to the wind wolves cry as they push agin the sides of the place
They try hard to get in, pacin' an' a pushin', hopin' to find a crack or weak spot to worry at.

Amid the creaks an' groans, howls of the wind wolves I dream, half awake of a little ol' log cabin
Laid up in the hills, deep up a holler all cozied up agin the foot of an ancient mountain
That mountain tired an' worn by a thousand an' a thousand years of wear an' toil
Tired out long before settlers wandered across the Warrior's Path to settle into a hard scrabble life.

Though their life was hard an' toilsome, that red an' yeller soil was somehow ground into their lives
It was pushed deep into their soul, into the memories of a dozen generations of mountain folks.
It became their bone an' blood, their strength an' their toil, their love an' their life
Somehow that sorry ol soil, hard scrabble life became who an' what they were, what we are.

An' now it calls to me once more as I lay awake, wantin' to find my way along frozen highways
South without glancin' at towns or sights along the straight an' narrow asphalt trail that leads home
I close my eyes to almost see each sign, each exit as I travel down through the foothills
Deeper, deeper still into the hollers, across the creeks an' down along a riverbed lined with slate.

Oh, in my dreams I am home, I am home as I stand in front of that ol' log house, covered with snow
As I look I see smoke pushin' lazy like up the chimbley an out into the cold winter that wraps around it.
It ain't much at all, not a lot to look at an' not no kind of a mansion, as plain as an ol' mud fence
Look careful there over there at that little ol window yonder an' see, do you see the light put there for me?

Do you hear what I'm a sayin'?
That light yonder, put there for me.  A light in the window, a latch string left out.  Lettin' me know...
I am welcome.  I am home.

Tuesday, August 07, 2012

Is Down Home still Home?

 I'm just sorta homesick for the hills of home. 

Dreamin' and wonderin' if the air is still as sweet

The dew on the grass, does it still glisten

Diamond bright in the morning sun?

 Do folks still wave an' holler "Hey, howdy!"

As cars an' trucks pass by their place?

Do they sit on the porch each evenin'

Watchin the day finish it's rounds?
Is sweet tea still as sweet?

Does cornbread crumble on your plate

As you spread fresh churned butter on?

Is down home still... down home?

Thursday, August 02, 2012

Lights of Home

Full moon and morning star
Lead me home to my darlin'
Headlights burnin' through
Swirlin' fog an' stirred up dust
Engine thrums my impatience
Up a hill an' down the holler
Crawlin' round that tight ol' bend
Patience worn an' razor thin
Eyes a squintin' hard
Round a corner another bend
Just there now... can't you see
Through the thick an' shelterin' trees
There, just there - look right close
Oh, yes... the lights of home.







Copyright 2012 Stephen Hollen is a storyteller living in Ohio, telling Appalachian stories and writing some ragged verse.