Monday, June 30, 2014

Sacred Ground

                                                     Today I hear the echoes
                                                     so many ways and more
                                                     this place where I live
                                                     my mind goes back to explore

                                                     The ground was not barren
                                                     it was trod upon each day
                                                     the busy sound of a gristmill
                                                     I still hear the old time way

                                                     Wagon tracks were plenty
                                                      back and forth, to and fro
                                                      hauling corn to make bread
                                                      from the fields where they'd grow

                                                     The grinding noise still lingers
                                                     I can hear it so plain
                                                     turning corn into cornmeal
                                                     for everyone that came

                                                    A clear picture I cling to
                                                    as I go on my way
                                                    I see my dear grandpa
                                                    with hair and beard of gray

                                                    The door was always open
                                                    he was everybody's friend
                                                    his goal was to make sure
                                                    they had bread once again

                                                    Oh what a wonderful, place
                                                    and a privilege so much to be
                                                    this cherished, simple time
                                                    in my mind each day I see

                                                    This ground where I live
                                                    nestled away with each sound
                                                    it's an honor to walk upon
                                                    I call it sacred ground

                                                    © Susie Swanson, 2014

In memory of the Grandpa I never had the privilege to know. He died in 1937 but he lives on in the Legacy he left behind and in the many hearts he touched.. Today, I live on the exact same spot where he had his Gristmill. I can just hear it sometimes in my mind. So many people depended on him to help put bread on their table. Rest In Peace Grandpa, you will never be forgotten as long as the words from my pen never runs dry.


  1. Hi There, We are home from a trip to the gorgeous West VA mountains –where we celebrated our anniversary… I’ll be blogging about this time for awhile –since it was so special.

    I love to visit Cades Cove in the Smokies and go to the Grist Mill there.... I too love hearing that sound... I'm sure you can hear it in your mind and memories..



    1. Welcome home sweet friend. I'm looking forward to your posts. I love Cades Cove as well. Thanks for stopping by.

  2. Susie,
    I love your poem and the photo. This poem brings back many memories. I love the imagery and it is indeed holy ground. You have done a marvelous job writing this beautiful poem.

  3. So interesting, Susie. You have so many wonderful memories to share with us.

  4. Susie, This is a great poem . You have a sweet way of telling a story with your poems. Blessings, xoxo,Susie

  5. Beautiful memories and poem, Susie. Your Grandpa did leave behind a precious legacy.

  6. Hi There, Me Again!!! Just stopping by to say "Happy 4th of July".... Hope you have an incredible weekend whether you are traveling, with family or friends --or like us, just enjoying being home! We hope to grill a couple of steaks tomorrow. Our weather here is awesome right now...God Bless American --and God Bless YOU.


    1. Awe, thank you sweet friend and I wish you the same. God Bless.