Blogger Break

As some of you have noticed I haven't been on here much or kept up with you and your posts. Due to my illness I have had to slack off quite a bit and not even able to be on the computer much anymore. It has grown increasingly worse for me to battle through this Horrific Disease called Addison's.

I don't have much mobility at all anymore and can't see to good. But I'm clinging to my Faith and God's promise of a better tomorrow. I know lots on here are fighting their own battles and you all are and will stay in my prayers. I will be back soon I hope but till then May God bless each one of you. ~Susie~

My Hero

When I go home across the hills at evening

My little flock of memories gather in

A gentle peace and quietness will settle

I look back and remember my hero once again

The man I always knew and called daddy

That worked so hard to keep us fed

With a wrinkled brow and callused hands

He provided a roof and a place to lay my head

I see him in the garden, come early spring

With his overalls on and his favorite hoe

He stayed with it from the beginning to end

Nary a weed was allowed to grow

I see him in the winter, in the fallen snow

Splitting pine for kindling to start a fire

Gathering in the night’s water and wood

In his plaid coat and gloves, his favorite attire

Each day I hear and see him with his dog Toby

I’m going out to the old place, he’d say

As they happily walked through my yard

Oh what a keepsake memory today

I see those big, apple trees he planted

Tall just like daddy, oh how they grew

So many treasures I’ve come to enjoy

When it comes to my daddy, I’m like glue

He’d tell straight out, he never had much school

Couldn‘t read and write, certainly no degree

The gift of knowledge flowed through his veins

For ninety four years, he taught constantly

To all that listened and wanted to know

Wisdom from the most wise is a gift to behold

As my daddy eased on down through life

So much joy came in pouring out his soul

He walked each road, climbed every hill

He knew everybody for miles around

If they didn’t know him, they came to know

He owned and had many a stomping ground

So many examples he set before me

So many memories, such good times

From when I was little and even grown

He taught me life lessons, only he could design

My daddy is now walking and talking in heaven

Up there where fathers are a chosen kind

I’m now left with my precious flock of memories

And my hero’s love he gladly left behind

© Susie Swanson, 2019

Happy Father's Day to all Fathers and may your day be as special as you.

The Finest I've Ever Seen

                                          We no longer raise gardens, chickens and hogs

                                          No more smoking chimneys, we now use gas logs

                                          There's no more hog killings on Thanksgiving Day

                                          Only turkeys and hams grace the tables today

                                          We no longer carry water in for the night

                                          There's plenty of running water and baths delight

                                          There's no more sitting by an old oil lamp

                                          A light hangs from the ceiling, an electric revamp

                                          No more traveling preachers, a thing of the past

                                          Big new churches, log churches are in the past

                                          There's no more Store Truck making its way through

                                          Like kids in a candy store, we stood like a statue

                                          An orange and an apple used to be a Christmas treat

                                          Now days electronics are the only thing that's neat

                                         Keeping a milk cow and churning our own buttermilk

                                         They now snarl their nose if its not store bought milk

                                         There's not many clothes now blowing in the wind

                                         We now have clothes dryers and washers that spin

                                         No one takes time to visit their neighbors or the sick

                                         My daddy's not here with his big walking stick

                                        The canning and jelly making days are almost gone

                                         Just a few old timers left to carry on

                                        There's no one left to cure the thrash (Thrush) anymore

                                        My mama's gone and her cure is no more

                                        There's no more prayer and recess in school

                                        It seems everything now has become man's rule

                                        Those old aprons they wore with money tucked away

                                        Is gone too, like their hair tucked in buns of gray

                                        And those old time zinnas my grandma so loved

                                        They now grace heaven with beauty and love

                                        There's no more plowing with an old mule now

                                        They use big tractors but that old mule sure could plow

                                        There's no more hunting foxes, possums and coons

                                        And sitting by a campfire listening to the dogs croon

                                        That good squirrel gravy and dumplins I still smell

                                        My mama sure could make them so yummy and swell

                                        There's no more sleeping with six in the bed

                                        With three at the foot and three at the head

                                        And sweeping the yard with a worn out broom

                                        Praying for some grass to grow really soon

                                        There's no more swinging on those old grapevines

                                        Or playing hopscotch in the sand with hand drawn lines

                                        There's no more crawling through the barbed wire fence

                                        Trying to escape the bull, we didn't have any sense

                                        Playing in the cold creek was a summer time game

                                        Claiming to fall in on a winter's morning wasn't the same

                                        Going fishing at the old mill pond with fishing pole in hand

                                        Losing track of time, the fishing was so grand

                                        Helping mama find Poke Salad in the early spring

                                        Climbing through the briars and snakes was her thing

                                        Or picking creesy greens from the creek bank each year

                                        Not knowing the difference with mama not here

                                        Going to bed with the chickens on hot summer days

                                        No time change did we have, we got used to the same ways

                                        There's no more robbing the hen's nest in the early morn

                                        Those old hens sure could lay, fed good with corn

                                        Those wonderful old days I loved and once knew

                                         Is now gone and the old ways too

                                        The living was so good, the finest I've ever seen 

                                         I love to go back it makes my heart sing

                                            © Susie Swanson, 2019