|
The poem below is a story of my sister, Shike, and her best friend, Jean McCullom. They had lived side by side in Odessa,
Texas and were now living in Wyoming. I received letters from both telling me of their adventures together in Wyoming. Then
Jean had to go north, back to Canada where she had started and Shike had to head west with her family.
This poem is the story of their last times together.
Let's Reminisce
We laughed and joked the night you left
Tho' in our hearts we cried
Far off up there in Wyoming land
Where we'd lived side by side.
For you were going west that night
And I would travel north
To fulfill a wish of ours
We both would venture forth.
An era, then, of happiness
Too soon had ended, so
I said farewell and when you left
My thoughts did backward go.
Remember yet those happy days
We whiled the hours away-
Those carefree hours among the hills
We watched the tall pines sway
And hiked the trails, explored the vales
Before you went away?
That little pond we found one day
Where swimming we did go.
It almost felt as if the water
Still was filled with snow.
The raft we'd sink with gasping breath-
'Twas either sink or swim
I'd hang on with all my might and main
But you would tumble in.
But still we thought it wonderous fun,
No money did we spend;
We had the wealth of friendship-
Too soon it had to end.
Remember all the picnics
And the teas and crumpets, too,
The old smoke signal that we hoped
We'd see there in the blue.
'Twas foolish but the memories that I
Associate with you.
The ice cream place below the camps;
Will wonders never cease!-
We'd sneak off from the little tramps
And treat ourselves in peace.
We had our fun, just you and I
And harmed no one or thing,-
Our hearts were filled with gladness
And joy of that northern spring.
That was the life, the life we lived
When you were by my side.
I hope again that you'll be near
If fate can turn the tide.
Have you ever gotten the feeling that someone close to you has changed? I did once upon a time. I described it in the song
below.
PS No one likes to be criticized. She left me shortly after I wrote this song!
Lately
Lately - you seem different,
Lately - you're not the same.
Lately - I don't know you
But I seem to remember the name.
Lately - You're a stranger,
You're no longer the girl that I knew;
Lately - the impression
That I get is someone else, not you.
Lately - when I'm with you
There's another girl there by my side,
And the way that you've been acting,
I can't tell if it's modesty or pride.
Lately - you seem different,
And if you haven't already guessed,
Then I think that I should tell you
That the change has been all for the best!
My father-in-law was a lover of apples and one day we were discussing apples and the term,'Love Apple,' came up. I really
liked the term (not knowing that a love apple was really a tomato) so I decided to write a song about it. I called it:
Love Apple
Winesap and Johnnie and Red Roman Beauty,
These fruits are so sweet and so firm and so round-
You must bend down the limb, pick them off while their growing
Or they'll shrivel and die and fall off on the ground.
The Earth is their Father , the tree is their Mother,
The limbs get their life from the rain and the sun
And give birth to the leaves and the buds and the blossoms
And love apples grow when the cycle is done.
............Continued Straight Across>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
|
|
|
|
 |
|
There are philosophies and there are religions, as many as there are individuals. We at times wonder how men and women got
to be who and what they are.- And what determined our general histories as well as our individual histories; who and what
were our ancestors and why are things as they are? What single thing in Creation is responsible for what we can or can't do,
what we are or are not? The fellow who wrote the little ditty below thinks he may have the answer! 'Chuckle'
The Big Bang
Once there was a big explosion
In a black and endless night,
And this Earth took it's position
With the others in their flight.
Just a planet without meaning
In it's orbit spinning 'round.
Just a stone in space unending,
With no quiet and no sound.
And for millions of years it floated
In a cloud of dirt and dust.
Then there was no joy and suffering
And there was no love or lust.
Then the Hand of God descended,
Plucked the Earth out of the sky,
He said this will be our Heaven;
We'll make a Man who'll never die.
And He caused the clouds to gather
And He made the thunder roar.
Then life rose out of the water
Where nothing ever had been before.
Then God saw the living creatures
And He said that it was right
Then He placed them in a Garden:
He made the sun rise to give them light.
And Man flourished in His Creation;
Life was good, there was no sin.
Man was the best that He had Created
So God said, "We must Create again."
Then He took a rib from Adam
And this life was on it's way,
'Cause from the Serpent came words of wisdom,
Now we live only from day to day.
In the dawning of Creation
When the sky was clear and blue,
God made all the crawling creatures
And God made Man: Then He Made You!
A lady friend of mine once complimented me on my ability to write songs and poetry and, out of the blue, asked me to write
a song for her. I would be in that area only a short time and I drew a blank. I told her I would write a song for her but
could come up with no acceptable subject. So I improvised. I wrote her a song called " Will You Write Me A Song."
Will You Write Me A Song
Will you write me a song,
Not too short, not too long,
Just a simple little song;
It doesn't have to say too much?
With a paper and pen,
Settle back and begin.
Think of where I belong
When you write me a song.
When I start a new day
Before the time slips away,
Or when I come home at night
After the day has been too long,
And in my easy chair,
Even though you're not there,
I'll think of you
If you will write me a song.
In the early morning hours
When the world is so still
And there's time for some thinking
Of everything that's right and wrong;
When you're in another city
Or just driving along,
You'll still be here
If you will write me a song.
I'll think of you if you
will write me a song.
Love Apple...continued...
When they're tender and tasty and their just right for plucking,
If you gently carress them `and you pick them with care-
They will nourish and fill you and their juice will enrich you,
But if the blossoms are crushed all the tree will be bare.
You must tend to the roots where the life blood is starting,
To enrichen the soil, you must spread it around,
Because there's nothing as sad as an aging love apple
That has withered and died and fallen off on the ground.
|
|
|
|
