Traveling is my secret passion; Oftentimes, I love to roam. But when asked, I like to tell folks Of the mountains I call home. Home, to me, is Smoky Mountains With her mists floating towards the sky; Bright profusion of wild flowers, Autumn colors that blind the eye. Honeysuckle, Rhododendron, Pine trees standing proud and… Continue reading Home, To Me
Category: Poetry
General Store
The door would open with a swing; I could smell the fresh oiled floor. My favorite place on earth to be Was the local General Store. My dusty feet on hardwood floors On a sunny summer day, Or blasting heat from an old wood stove Keeping winter winds at bay. Large glass cases displayed the… Continue reading General Store
Friendship’s Garden
I've a garden I must tend to; Treat it with the greatest care. Every kind of flower grows here, And each of them is very rare. Every flower is my favorite; Their petals stretch up toward the sky. Some thrive richly in the sunshine; Others in the sun would die. Some like rocky banks to… Continue reading Friendship’s Garden
Fishin’
My brothers spent their summers fishin' And always wanted me to go. I would've fished with them all summer If I didn't hate worms so. But their pleading finally swayed me, So we drove to their favorite spot, Slid down the bank and climbed over rocks To the shade, where it wasn't so hot. I… Continue reading Fishin’
Honey, We’re Poor
My Daddy worked hard all his life, But never got ahead. And all we had to eat each day Was pinto beans and bread. A child could never know that, though, With fields to run and play. With trees to climb and creeks to wade And adventures every day. Daddy talked to me one night… Continue reading Honey, We’re Poor
Gardening
Daddy tilled the lot beside our house With a horse and plow each year. A full day's work, that plowing was With rocks making it hard to steer. We worked from daybreak until dark When planting time came around, With Daddy watching the moon's phase To put seed in the ground. My brother shoveled, I… Continue reading Gardening
Marm
Her given name was Miriam, But the old folks called her "Marm." She was well into her eighties Before I was ever born. How I loved to hear her stories As I'd sit upon her bed, Dating back to eighteen-hundreds And the life that she had led. Her springhouse stood just down the road With… Continue reading Marm
Momma’s Healing Touch
My Momma had such gentle hands, But they had strength to heal; Her soothing touch could mend my soul No matter how bad I'd feel. Her kindly words could stroke my heart; Each word would ease my fears. She was always there to comfort me And wipe away my tears. When thoughts turned restless in… Continue reading Momma’s Healing Touch
Momma’s Kitchen
It was raining cold and bitter As I hurried toward the door, Knowing Mom was in the kitchen, So good treats would be in store. Smells of home assailed my senses; Mom was baking apple pie. Biscuits fresh, right from the oven Piping hot, they caught my eye. Pinto beans were cooking slowly While outside… Continue reading Momma’s Kitchen
Mountain Friendship
Friends are family in the mountains; To their kin, they're always true. Mountain folks have staying power; All their life, they'll stand by you. They would share their only morsel, Proving they are friends indeed. Never would a mountain person Fail to help a friend in need. Ties go deep here in the mountains; One… Continue reading Mountain Friendship