Country Colored Memories
Bullfrogs Serenade
I heard the voice of a bullfrog
as I approached, he jumped on a log
a funny, deep tuba sound
water amplified his croak all-around
a lazy day in June
I enjoyed my tuba tune
bullfrog’s singing on a sunny afternoon
I hate for them to leave so soon
I watch them as they hop away
what’s left for me to say
My mother always handledHer problems as they landed Folded hands in her lap with her apron tied aroundA crescendo of voices, still she never uttered a sound I would catch a glimpse of herdeep in thought While her children squabbled...
There is a beauty in life unheardIntriguing sounds without a spoken word I look around at the beautiful treesbending swaying, moving with ease They have a plan; they’re going somewherestarting over every year without a care the birds of heaven...
An Indian name is woven from the fabric of their birth From nature or a characteristic, or a trait for what that’s worth Cool Dawn could still remember the story of her name Her mother had told her from where...
I have a sweet niece who’s a special womanWhen she was small she always seemed timid Always hanging in the back of a groupShe never was at the head of the troup She quietly stood back and took it all...