Snowfall in Mountains

It seems it’s been years since snow piled up for days-
Global warming, I wonder or just that on storm
That seems to haunt us every year.

It seems the pretty , fluffy snowfalls of my youth
Are gone, the snow melts and freezes,
Days of melting snow and dangerous ice.

I remember walking in the pasture, in the woods
Now filled with disgusting mansions and roadways
We can’t walk on the logging roads- there are none.

I can’t imagine what through are going through the
Selfish developers heads when they cut
And saw- tear down the forest, so disgusting.

If I could only make these people go away,
Go back north or south- just go and put our
Forest back like a God made them.

My grandkids will be lucky to climb a mountain in the snow.
Maybe they can find enough for a snow-fort
Selfish greedy people with your mansions.

I didn’t realize until my own family fell in this trap
That I was the last generation that would enjoy
The winter forest it spring flowers

Unless we went miles away somehow on slick roads
I wish we could make a law to stop development
To stop those blind to the beauty of the woods

That I could scrap their horrible mansions and road away
And put holly trees back and spring flowers
And fall mushrooms and mast crops…

Can I at least wish that the selfish developers
And desperate farm owners who no longer farm
Can find a way to keep the land and stop destroying it?

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Can I get there from here?

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The night, darkness again though I just awoke
the relief of an afternoon nap -escape from pain
my eyes burning, from tear, exhaustion, sorrow
i cannot stop thinking of you, my pain is forever.

You, a handsome teen, amidst growing tall
already muscular and nearly 6 feet
Damn ball, damn those who begged you to play-
my mind hd screamed “dont” for months…

No one knows how I feel, how I hurt -inside and out-
struggling to recall your voice, your words, our smile
How could God do this to us-take you away
leave me the barely waling dead forever…

There is no pain,that will not heal, they say
but I don’t see a seeping wound, a jagged scar
as healing. Simply a reminder of what I couldn’t
allow myself to imagine- loosing a child…

Everyone says Ive changed, demands the impossible
just let it go for a while, enjoy what you have
look at all you have, so much more than most
-kids-grandkids but not you only a gaping hole.

You are my heart, my soul, I have both died with you
and “lived” with you in my broken body
for over a decade. How much more? Am I living for revenge?
for what? Pain, grief, anxiety, it serves no purpose.

My love for you only grows, beautiful you, soft
sweet, cuddly, yet brave, strong, tough-my son
When people say I will see you in heaven,
i dont know whether to laugh or cry-i want you now!

Is there a forever place? Is this hell where we are now?
If there was good anywhere-in any realm,
you would be here with me and I wouldn’t be
forever disabled because you aren’t…

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Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening

 

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer  
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake. 10 
The only other sounds the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep, 15 
And miles to go before I sleep.

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In Flanders Fields

29720194This poem was written by John McCrae during WWI  during the early days of the Second Battle of Ypres in Belgium. One of his best friends , Lt Alexis Helmer of Canada was killed and he started writing this no famous Pom th next day.This was the first time chemicals were used in warfare- perhaps one of the first.

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place, and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scare heard amid the guns below.

 

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt Dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders Fields.

 

Take up our quarrel with  the foe,

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch, be yours to hold it high.

If he break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders Fields.

May 1915

The photo is my father, Kennith Culbreth while he served in the Navy during WWII

 

 

 

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Brown Penny By William Butler Yeats

img_0115I whispered,’ I am too young.’

And then,  ‘I am old enough.’

Wherefore I threw a penny

To find out if I could love.

‘Go and love, go and love, young man,

If the lady be young  and fair.

O, penny,brown penny, brown penny,

I am looped in the loops of her hair.

O, love is the crooked thing.

There is nobody wise enough,

To find out all that is in it,

For he would be thinking of love,

Till the stars had run away,

And the shadows eaten the moon.

Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,

 

 

 

 

 

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Swirling Leaves of Autumn

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The wind shakes my car as I round the curve
Autumns leaves twirl around me in symphony
Yesterday, the mountains were green
Today, they are a rainbow of yellows and reds

I hear the sound of children playing
They laugh as they whirl in autumn leaves
Yesterday went so quickly, today, in a flash is gone
I wonder if I even have a tomorrow –

Or am I just an autumn leaf?

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Casey Ball- hometown music you will love!

Casey sings, plays a banjo, guitar etc and a harmonica all in the same tribute songs. These songs will bring back some great memories- take a few minutes and listen!

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