Friday, April 15, 2016

Plenty More Left To Tell





Seek a cool, green hilltop close to the sky
Where the refreshing winds of heaven blow
And the birds spread their wings as they pass by
Seeking some destination that they only know

Then close your eyes and listen…… You will hear
Calling, calling out your name
Old voices that you once knew so dear
Calling you back to where they laid claim

Upon the mighty land they loved so well
Across this beautiful Blue Ridge they called home
There’s so many stories they are waiting to tell
Left behind for all of us, to share and carry on

Winds of time sweep many golden memories
Paths of ancestors become streets of gold
Like the tall, tall mountains born from the trees
These are the things to cherish and lay hold

They tell their stories of hard work and sacrifice
With plenty of satisfaction, joy and pride
Knowing those big fields of corn was suffice
Putting bread on the table, knowing how to provide

Riding a wagon on an old gutted out road
If we look closely the roads are still there
Those mules worked hard and pulled many a load
Can’t ye hear the Gee’s and Haw’s still in the air

And when the noon time sun was mighty hot
They snaked out wood for the winter’s cold
Always thinking ahead and on many a trot
A way of life that should never become old

The gardens were a plenty and always bountiful
Leaving a harvest of knowledge behind
Going by the signs is a priceless jewel, so beautiful
For planting and canning from a mastermind

When the fog lays stretched across the horizon
Remember a father’s feet hit the ground at dawn
His work never done, even at setting of sun
Leaving his footsteps and pathways to travel upon

 A mother’s calloused hands scrubbing the way she knew
Washing clothes on an old rub board many a day
 Toil and labor for her family only grew and grew
  Love and dedication became her reward in every way

And they set an example of people coming together
On hog butchering days everybody was akin
Neighbors helping neighbors through all kinds of weather
When sickness hit, help was just around the bend

 There’s nothing as spiritual than an old timey meeting
Many a spirit-fed soul is now walking through eternity
 Can’t you still hear those old church bells ringing
Music to our ears, food for our soul through all adversity

 And when we drift far away and travel many miles
Let’s not forget where we came from, our ancestral plan
Our great heritage will surely bring tears and smiles
If we but only go back to where it all began

Seek a cool, green hilltop close to God’s creation
Climb on up and let’s sit a long spell
Mountain hospitality needs no invitation
Believe me, there’s plenty more stories left to tell

© Susie Swanson, 2016

Sorry I haven't been around lately to visit you all but this Tormenting Disease called Hashimoto's Thyroiditis has taken over my body and my life. I miss all of you and will be back as I'm able. Blessings, ~Susie

6 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

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  2. Beautiful Susie! Hang in there & get well!

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  3. Susie you are so talented and I am in love with your poems and stories as a lot of the things you write about I lived.

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  4. Very poignant Susie, always enjoy reading your posts!
    I do hope you feel better soon!

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  5. Lovely and heartfelt poem, Susie. Thinking of you and hoping you feel better soon.

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  6. Hi Susie, I love your poem. Some things you write about ...make me think of my parents. They were raised in the hills of Tennessee. I miss my parents and aunts and uncles. Seems even the friends of our parents have passed on. Hope you are feeling good. I think of you often. Blessings, love, xoxo, Susie

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