A Warrior

I have fought a hundred battles

In my mind I've seen it all

I have raised my gun against the enemy

And seen my comrades die and fall

I have carried the armor of courage

Always wanting to do my part

On land, sea, jungles and deserts

It will always lay heavy on my heart

To my brothers and sisters that have fallen

I will always remember them well

So much sacrifice, they gave their all

In that place we all called hell

Inside the battles are still raging

In my mind I still see and hear

Mortals, shells and the enemy

In my sleep they still appear

Yet each day I try to carry on

Although I have cried many tears

If I had to do it over again

I would shed my coat of fears

And walk straight into battle

With my head held mighty high

For the freedom I fight hard for

I am willing to lie down and die

I will always be a Warrior

Even after I'm dead and gone

Please do not forsake me

Fly old Glory proud and strong

© Susie Swanson, 2019

Down An Old Dirt Road

Old country roads remind me of walking to church come Sunday morning and walking back come Sunday night. They remind me of walking to the little country store with mama's list in hand. Those early morning walks to catch the school bus and walking back in home at end of day, stopping long enough take our shoes off and wade across the little creek come warm weather, is priceless.

The fresh morning smells of honeysuckle, wild roses, mountain laurel or crabapple blossoms drifting in the spring time air, or walking in those big snows that were knee deep in the winter, rolling in the snow and throwing snowballs at each other along the way.

Taking refuge under a big tree come a hard, summer's rain and still takin a wetting and loving it to no end. Then we ran through mud holes with our bare feet, busting em wide open, never thinking about getting the toe itch till it was to late.

Ahhhh, how can I forget the huckleberries and that sweet taste. We knew exactly where they came up and picked em fast as they ripened, along side the road.

And those delicious blackberries we picked for mama to can and looking forward to that fresh blackberry cobbler, all the while eating more than we picked. Never thinking twice about the chiggers or poison ivy till it was to late.

Climbing over barbed wire fences and ripping our clothes to pick poke salat for mama. She didn't take to kindly to the ripped clothes or the dangers of getting snake bit but the poke salat changed the subject really quick.

  Riding an ole, rusted bicycle around every curve and bend, with nary a brake knowing we'd hit the ditch or the creek. It's a wonders we hadn't broke our neck or worse.

And trying to outrun the others to get the mail every day and stumping our toes along the way. They never did have a chance to heal. When cold weather settled in and we had to wear shoes we'd still hobble down those ole roads.

I couldn’t count how many trips we made to and fro carrying gallons of milk from the neighbors when we were between cows, hungry for some good cornbread and milk to go along with supper, sometimes making a complete meal out of it.

 And how can I forget takin a few poufs off of a cigarette butt after snatchin it outta the yard when daddy threw it down. Ahhhh, the sickness and turning green that followed, I'd sure like to forget and is still a reminder today. I said then and there, "never again.” Whewww.

It didn't matter the season or the weather, we made memories to last a lifetime and those ole dirt roads paved the way.

There's so many memories that still linger. I go back quite often and listen to the echoes of a childhood full of many seeds that's been sowed. How can we ever forget an old dirt road.

                                               © Susie Swanson, 2019

Left To Slumber

I'm just an old home left to slumber from happy days gone by

Many wind swept memories still linger sweet as a lullaby

My ole run down heart still has plenty left to tell

if you'd just step on in and sit fer a spell

I'd tell of the voices echoeing around me through the years

of so many happy souls, still makes me cry joyful tears

I yearn to be a happy place where the sound of a bird's song

was once deafened by the children that are now grown

The pretty daffodils still bloom around me in the spring

I'll always cherish the gardener and the beauty she did bring

My tarpaper shingles are not fancy but I miss shiny windows so clean

awe, I can still hear the supper bell and it's my favorite ring

Those wrinkled, tired, ole hands from sun up to sun down

oh how the table held plenty and the food did abound

Come spring, summer, Fall or winter, blue skies or gray

helping to spread a father and mother's love in a boundless way

I loved being a peaceful, ole place to lay their heads at night

dreaming of another day, the mantle clock a pleasant quiet

While the ole whipperwills made their nightly call

trying to out do the crickets, hoot owls and all

So many feet running around every corner and bend

there was never a dull moment before loneliness settled in

Underneath this ole roof a lifetime of living came to unfold

those beautiful sunsets, sunrises and rain pelting never got old

The tall, bending grass makes me seem so empty and gray

time has a way of doing that and history does slip on away

I may not look like much to some sitting here in the past

but these old, weather beaten boards were surely made to last

Today I sit in slumber and remembering comes so easy

listening to the yesterdays drifting in the leaves so breezy

Waiting for someone to walk through my welcome, ole door

then time will stand still and I'll never be lonely anymore

© Susie Swanson, 2019

Is it time yet?

Is it time yet mama, can I go barefoot? That was the number one question come spring. We’d see the dogwoods in bloom or the redbud trees and always commence to pull our shoes off. The older people always said wait till the first of May or you’ll catch ye death of cold. I know for a fact my daddy never pulled his long johns off till the first of May. He still wore his long sleeve shirts till mama made him change to short sleeves. He always said he was afraid he’d take cold. It didn’t matter if it got ninety degrees in the shade and in his older years he had such bad circulation that we might see him put his overcoat on in the middle of the summer.

As for going barefoot, when the shoes came off they stayed off all summer long till school started. When we hit the door in the evening, off came the shoes. We’d toughened our feet so and stumped our toes off so bad it was hard to put on a pair of shoes and wear em all day. We walked the paved road so much going to the store or getting milk from the neighbors that we stumped our toes till there was nothing left but a stub.

It wasn’t that we didn’t appreciate a new pair of shoes when school started we just couldn’t stand wearing em and it hurt our stumped toes and calloused feet. We knew we had to make them shoes last as long as possible cause there was no money to run back and forth to the store buying a new pair. The boys were more rough on their shoes than me and my one and only sister which happened to be a lot younger than me was the biggest tomboy to ever come along. She wore out as many pairs as the boys and had her head stuck in something all the time. 

We run through the thickets and briars till our feet were tough as a pine knot. Those mud holes just about did us in. We’d bust every one of those suckers dry and that toe itch was a killer. Mama would say, “don’t complain to me, ye know what did it.” That never stopped us none cause those mud holes were hard to resist.

I never see or hear of a young’un anymore going barefoot and it’s a shame. I even admit in my older years my feet are so tender I can’t stand to walk on the ground to save my life. I walk around barefoot in the house all day long but I gotta have an old pair of flip flops on when I go outside. 

I sure do miss those days of going barefoot even if we wore our feet out and the joys of running through those big, grassy fields will last a life time. And every spring I still hear those words, is it time yet mama, can I pull my shoes off ?

                                             © Susie Swanson, 2019

 Hope you all had a nice Easter. It was a chilly day here but lots of sunshine. Wishing you all a nice week and still praying for lots of folks on here. Blessings, ~Susie~

The Wonders Of Nature

                                               A little deer standing by the roadside

                                               looking back and forth, to and fro

                                               wondering if it should run and hide

                                               and which way it should go

                                               A long neck crane standing in the creek

                                               an awesome sight to see

                                               attempting to grab food, it takes a peek

                                               then flies away with it's large, majestic wings

                                             A large hawk sitting in a tree

                                             looking around for its prey

                                             whatever that may become or be

                                             it'll never have a chance to get away

                                           A strange flock of birds fly in

                                           from some place faraway and unknown

                                           on nature's food they do depend

                                           they're here for a time and then they're gone

                                           A little rabbit sits in the clover

                                           everyday it sits in the same spot

                                           late in the evening when the day is over

                                           I can tell by the clover it never eats alot

                                           A large raccoon visits from time to time

                                           searching for something to eat

                                           up the creek bank he does climb

                                           grabs what he can and runs back to his retreat

                                          A hoot owl makes his presence known

                                          in my yard each and every night

                                          he'll hoot until the break of dawn

                                          and then return again the very next night

                                          The squirrels are never a stranger and always there

                                           running this way and that

                                           hoping the birds will kindly share

                                           each day they grow more big and fat

                                          These wondrous sights my eyes do behold

                                           takes my breath away and fills my heart with pride

                                           to know that nature can be so bold

                                           in a place where I live and abide

                                          © Susie Swanson, 2019