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SPIRIT
Senior Member
since 2002-12-29
Posts 1745
California Desert

0 posted 2002-12-30 02:29 PM



AT GREAT GRANDMA'S KNEE

I sit on the floor,
By Great Grandma's chair,
I have shouldered her shawl,
And combed her hair.
She's close to a hundred,
Petite in size,
And her eyes are as blue
As the summer skies.
As I hold her hand,
Her grip is strong,
It has not been this way,
For oh! So long.
Her sweet precious face
Is lit up and smiling,
Tho' wrinkled and old,
She looks quite beguiling.
She speaks in a voice
That rings true and clear,
And the change, for the better,
Is very dear.
"How glad I am child,
That you came today,
I don't want to tire you,
But I need my say.
I know what I tell you,
You’ve heard before,
Trust me, my love,
I don't mean to bore."
In silence, I sit and squeeze,
Gently, her hand,
Go on and talk,
Is my silent command.
She sighs and gives me
A look of relief,
Dabs at her eyes
With a lace handkerchief.

"Davey, dear Davey,
The love of my life,
He was my first husband,
I, his one wife."
She looks at me closely,
To read my face,
Continue, it says;
Don’t lose your place.
"He'd come into town
On an old dappled roan,
For all of eight years
He’d traveled alone.
Tall and rangy,
With hair auburn red,
He was humored and clever,
And a lot underfed,
I saw him first
From the corner of my eye,
And my virginal heartbeat
Did signify,
That this stranger to town
Was surely, to be mine,
He was God's gift to me,
My own valentine.

He was a young preacher
Seeking his mission,
To disciple to others
Was his main ambition.
Momma and Poppa
Shook their heads in despair,
'Cause to my rich beaus’ in town
He just didn't compare.
We were married, the first day
Of a glorious spring,
And to this day I still wear
And cherish his ring.
I was seventeen and Davey
Was just twenty-five
And the first time in our lives,
We felt truly alive.

Preacher Davey was what
He liked to be called,
And my poor parents' were
So completely appalled,
When Davey was sure he'd been
Voiced by the Lord,
Telling him to go forth,
West, to spread His Word.
I was young, in love,
To please Davey I was eager,
Excited by the adventure,
Full of vim, full of vinegar.
So we packed up a wagon,
Joined up with a train,
I never could, never will,
Forget my parent's pain.
I was their only child
I had been given the best,
And here I was, packing
Scant belongings, heading West.
I hugged them good-bye, cried,
Said I'd write soon as I could,
Davey, he promised them,
He’d make sure that I would.
My entire life till then,
I left back in the East,
But not one regret
Did I have in the least.

Our wagon was filled
With new pots and pans,
Boxes of Bibles,
To fulfill Davey's plan.
My Momma filled a chest
With my gowns of silk
And my Poppa had bought us,
A brown cow, for milk.
We were laden with food,
And my parent’s good wishes,
And nestled in cotton
Were Grandma’s best dishes.
A rocking chair and dresser
In sturdy gold maples,
And loads of other stuff,
Momma called staples.
We had pallets for beds,
We kept rolled on the side,
And barrels for water,
And a hard bench to ride.
Our horses were friendly
And used to the pull
Of a wagon that was loaded
Fuller than full.
I don't want to complain
That the going was rough,
But this genteel young lady
Sure learnt to be tough.
The mesquities, the sun,
The lack of good water,
Lost wagons, lost friends,
Made one think that one ought to
Maybe turn back, head East,
Go on home,
But I knew with Davey,
I would stay, I would roam.

When night fell,
In Davey's arms I would lay,
He was tender, kind,
Chased my fears away.
Never was a man
So pure, or so good,
Never a bad word,
On God's principals he stood.
Didn't matter to him,
If you believed the good word,
Ministering to others
Was his just reward.
We saw some Indians,
But they stayed away,
And the coyotes, we set fires
To keep them at bay.
We saw raccoons, and skunk,
And all sorts of critters,
And two bitch dogs
Supplied the train with some litters.
The eagles they flew and soared
High in the sky,
Immeasurable wingspan,
Fly! Fly! Fly!

We traveled through
So many strange places,
And in the course of the trip
We’d add new faces,
Davey was strong, faithful
In the ways of the Lord,
Said that in time we would gain
Our reward,
Of a piece of land, and church,
To call our own,
And a family, spirit filled
To add to our home.
My Davey, dear Davey,
Ministered to all,
I started and taught
A small Sunday school,
We had finally got close
To where we were going,
It's such a long time,
And my mind is slowing.
We'd circled our wagons,
Stopped for the day,
We were going to party
The whole night away.

The evenings, cooler,
Gave cause to celebrate,
And I dressed for Davey,
Like a first date.
The wagon master was happy
To have such a treat,
The scout, absent,
Had been gone for nearly a week.
Suddenly we heard
Miss Ellie Mae scream,
'Twas my Davey
Who was first on the scene.
On a rock, disturbed,
Angry, ready to strike,
Was a big old rattler,
His victim, young Mike.
My man threw himself
'Twixt child and snake,
He grit his teeth,
Not a sound did he make.
The snake slid away,
With no glance around,
Whilst my Davey lay dying,
There, on the ground.

They tried to save him,
All worked so hard,
In the end, their efforts
They had to discard.
I sat down beside him,
Holding his hand,
Don't leave me Davey,
In this strange land.
Barely able to move,
He whispered my name,
He comforted me,
In spite of his pain.
'Don't cry my love,
The Lord has called me,
My earth time is thru,
This you must see.
I don't know when,
But we have a date
I'll be there to meet you
At the Golden Gate,
I will live forever,
Deep within your heart,
Never, but never darling,
Will we be apart.
I kissed him good-bye
On his swollen lips,
Then everything went dark,
Like a sun eclipse.
I had the men dig him
A grave really deep,
I wanted no wild animals
To ruin his sleep.
We piled it with boulders
And a cross made of wood,
And I prayed ‘Dear God,
To his soul please be good’.

Five years, lonesome years,
Before I married again,
To a very fine man,
Your Great Grand-daddy Ben.
Oh! Child I loved him,
He too, was gentle and kind,
I was not 'In love with him',
He knew, didn't mind.
I surely have rambled,
I've just talked so much,
Hold my hand much tighter,
I need to feel your touch.
I am excited, so excited,
For today I have a date,
I'm going to have to leave dear,
You see, I can’t be late.”

She closes her eyes, smiles,
Gives a gentle sigh,
As I sit at her knee and watch
Great Grandma die.

© Copyright 2002 das - All Rights Reserved
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
1 posted 2002-12-31 06:44 AM



Dinah.  We have a little saying around here...if you are going to write a poem that requires a hanky, then you must tell us up front that this is a "hanky alert".  In noting your Constructive Critiques, first I must ask, is this a truth, lie, or imagination?

If it is the truth, then you had a most courageous grandmother, and I am glad Granddad Ben understood a first true love...

If it is a lie...you are a huggable scoundral!

If it is your imagination, then I am going to enjoy your writings, because truth be known, a writer is nothing, without imagination!

Any gentle criticism would be to say "read this aloud" and the small bumps in the sounds you hear will show you where minor deletions or small corrections need to be made.  I truly enjoyed this, and I know a moth or two who LOVE long poems, and I am sending this to them to read so that they may begin their Happy New Year on the right foot!

SPIRIT
Senior Member
since 2002-12-29
Posts 1745
California Desert
2 posted 2002-12-31 09:47 AM


Thank you. I am English born and don't have a lick of pioneer spirit in me. I sit down at the side of the road in panic and tears if my car breaks down.  Thanks also for the critique, I can't tell you how many times I have read out loud and changed. Davey was Minister before changing to Preacher for instance. The problem here is now I read it the way I want it to sound, a little hesitation here, a little lump in the throat there, maybe a bit teary eyed towards the end that I don't hear any longer what I need to hear. I appreciate your input very much.  
Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

3 posted 2002-12-31 02:08 PM


the moth is here...thank you Kari for sharing...Welcome to Poetry Land Spirit...so nice to have you here with us...
dont change a thing...it says all it needs to...sometimes we just have to let it be...
yes...hanky alert on this one.
excellent story telling!!

Will the wind remember the names it has blown in the past?
With this crutch, its old age and wisdom, it whispers no ... this will be the last.

jh

garysgirl
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Laureate
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237
Florida, USA
4 posted 2002-12-31 02:22 PM


Spirit, you certainly are a fine story-teller. I love stories, especially love stories about the young loves traveling to the West on wagon trains. I'm sure you have more up your sleeve somewhere, don't you? I'll certainly be looking for them. Thank you for sharing, Sweetie...........  

"Love makes the world go around"
~~with love and hugs from Ethel~~  
                  

Gentle Spirit
Member Patricius
since 2000-10-09
Posts 13989

5 posted 2002-12-31 03:38 PM


Spirit this is truly a wonderful write and I am sure I will be looking forward to more from you!  I believe you are going to bless us all here at Passions with your lovely writing.  While I'm here, let me thank Kari for making sure I didn't miss this as she knew I would love it.....and she was right.  
Welcome to Passions.

Toerag
Member Ascendant
since 1999-07-29
Posts 5622
Ala bam a
6 posted 2002-12-31 03:52 PM


this is very well done....one of the very few very long poems I've read, and, didn't regret it!!!
suthern
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Seraphic
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723
Louisiana
7 posted 2002-12-31 03:57 PM


This is excellent... I thoroughly enjoyed! *S* Welcome to Passions! *S*
SPIRIT
Senior Member
since 2002-12-29
Posts 1745
California Desert
8 posted 2002-12-31 03:58 PM


You are all very kind. I honestly don't have a clue where this came from, one day it was just there waiting to be written down.
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