Saturday, March 14, 2015

Wild celebrate any grand events; cherish close all "Simple" sacred things

Rockin’ Chair
 
A tiny dog-trot cabin, yet the porch was wide
Pappy built it like the one that Mammy’d spied
 
In alabaster pale full moon light the old swing rusty chains did squeak
The homemade oaken rocker swayed, the old man’s interest piqued
 
“Pap,” allowed the boy, “her gold hair shines like noon-time halo sun”
His father nodded, knowing that this lad’s tale of love had now begun
 
A young man’s star-struck words spoken in religious reverence
His brown eyes aglow so soft to personify eternal pleasur-ence
 
“She speaks a language sugar-coated through sweet honey lips
To caress soft hand akin to flower nectar which a wild bee sips”
 
That rocker groaned as Pappy reached to tap his corncob pipe
A work-hard hand did a tear-stained cheek ever-gently wipe
 
The youth went on without notice of the prideful sign
“Pap, I’ll ask her hand, for love is purely my design”
 
Quiet still, the old man rose but found no words to speak
A shoulder-firm-approval pat gave all the boy did seek
 
With love they’d reared this child as parents should
That gentle touch said, “Son, you have done good”
 
The rainbow flower bed before the porch wafted fragrant summer roses
At dawn, the old man takes a fresh bouquet to where his wife reposes
 
The boy dreamed glory-fame in that midnight star-filled diamond sky
Pappy smiled tears of future coming tempered in bright days gone by
 
In seeming end each new beginning lies some patient wait
Where ’ere thee be in time is right, never is our future late
 
From here to pointed there, enjoy full well this wondrous journey so
Thank God for life, celebrate by shouting, “Yes! Lord! I will go!”
 
Amen! Amen!
 
 
 
 


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