A little Poem
/Now I’m not poet – and I really know it! But a few years ago while learning and thinking about Key Town (which is something of a ghost town that is the source of lots of stories) the following lines came to me. I hope you enjoy my singular attempt at rhyme and meter
There is a place I love to
go,
where mountains roll and wild
flowers grow.
The roads are dirt but
friends are many.
Life is hard and laughs
aplenty.
In this land, the family
reigns
with love and prayers to heal
their pains.
This land is but my living
dream
of the past to which I cling.
It’s stories told,
a history wrote.
By father and son alike
it keeps their world alive.
'Tis a balm to the soul
where none is old and all are
whole.
I go there when I’ve
questions asked
about the world that is our
past.
Their old rule today applies
when in your heart the gospel
lies.
And thru their eyes we may
see
the world’s a better place to
be.
It is a world that now is
past
but their dreams will always
last.
Lessons learned to me they
teach
and from the grave a heart they’ll reach.