POETRY AGAIN, HOOTIE
Hootie pulled this one out for you--you have to make up your own music, here's the words---
MOUNTAIN MOURNING
From here in the hills of old West Virginia,
I left Mom and Dad when I was a kid.
To make my own living I went up to Ohio,
And that was the hardest thing I ever did.
I spent four long years in Youngstown and Akron,
Then I went up north and made Cleveland my home.
I came home each spring to see all the old folks
And always felt so bad 'cause I'd had to roam.
Well, Dad up and died, way back in the Eighties.
Mom was heartbroken, and soon she did too.
We buried them there, on the hill by the homeplace.
But I never dreamed that I'd come back so soon.
The procession just passed out of Southern Ohio;
Down Route 10 to Ranger I'll take my last ride.
And now up the hollow I see the old homeplace.
And there stands my Dad and his bashful young bride.
And the preacher's there waiting with them in the graveyard.
The rest of my family are all here with me.
And now I can rest, here with Mama and Daddy,
Back at my home for eternity.
Now I'm home forever. I won't leave, no, never.
I'll sleep here forever with Mama and Dad.
Now I'm home forever, just lay the grass over.
I'll sleep here forever with Mama And Dad.
More another time.
MOUNTAIN MOURNING
From here in the hills of old West Virginia,
I left Mom and Dad when I was a kid.
To make my own living I went up to Ohio,
And that was the hardest thing I ever did.
I spent four long years in Youngstown and Akron,
Then I went up north and made Cleveland my home.
I came home each spring to see all the old folks
And always felt so bad 'cause I'd had to roam.
Well, Dad up and died, way back in the Eighties.
Mom was heartbroken, and soon she did too.
We buried them there, on the hill by the homeplace.
But I never dreamed that I'd come back so soon.
The procession just passed out of Southern Ohio;
Down Route 10 to Ranger I'll take my last ride.
And now up the hollow I see the old homeplace.
And there stands my Dad and his bashful young bride.
And the preacher's there waiting with them in the graveyard.
The rest of my family are all here with me.
And now I can rest, here with Mama and Daddy,
Back at my home for eternity.
Now I'm home forever. I won't leave, no, never.
I'll sleep here forever with Mama and Dad.
Now I'm home forever, just lay the grass over.
I'll sleep here forever with Mama And Dad.
More another time.
posted by tanstaafl | 8:44 AM
5 Comments:
I love your poem. It is very heartfelt. You should post it on my poetry website I started. Peace
Thanks for the kind words. Let me have the link and I'll look the site over and may post to it.
Oh, that is nice. I'm glad you've come back home. Funny how home is home no matter how much you've had to roam. I have never moved that far away, and even at that, I cross this river and feel like I'm home again. That's just so strange.
I really like that poem.
I, too, have a desire to be buried in my home town in the cemeter where so many people I knew as a youngster now are buried. Odd, isn't it, that I have spent most of my adult life around people with similar interests, but at burial time I'll be near people with whom the only thing I share is childhood geography. And a few family, of course.
Thanks for the kind thoughts. I was going to do a political satire for my next post, but I've cancelled it for another idea. Check back tomorrow afternoon or Saturday.
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