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THE GOAL: ONE POEM PER WEEK . |
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Thursday, November 25, 2004 Thanksgiving is here, as it is every yearAnd this time around I greet it with cheer I'm thankful this year for so many things I'm thankful for the lovely way Joss Stone sings I'm thankful for music Thankful for Ellen Thankful for soap that smells of watermelon I'm thankful for Jessica Thankful for Beth Thankful for both of them, they love me to death I'm thankful for my parents Thankful for home Thankful I don't have to go out and roam I'm thankful for my niece, she's a little sweetheart I'm thankful I get to see her life from the start Most of all I'm thankful my brother's still here I'm thankful we lived through the worst of our fears I'm thankful my future sis-in-law is improving Seeing her fight for her life is quite moving I'm thankful for all I have, I know I am lucky This Thanksgiving I am certainly one thankful ducky posted by:Russ at 11:04 PM | Post Page | 0 comments Sunday, November 21, 2004 Inspired by a friend's dream . . .The Steps Of Life Take a walk on the steps of life Put one foot after another It might seem a long way to reach the top But keep on climbing, never stop Each step you take will show you The steps you took in life Before you take the next step up Take a look at what you've done Some steps will show the good Some steps will show the bad Each step will teach a lesson Each step leads you closer Some steps will be easy to climb Others will make you struggle No matter what, keep climbing up Keep reaching to the top When you've reached the top, look down Look down on the steps you've taken The steps you've taken to get this far You'll see what you've done, and how far you've come Then you'll see your final goal Staring you in the face Reach out your arms, you've earned it You've earned a loving embrace posted by:Russ at 11:28 PM | Post Page | 0 comments Friday, November 19, 2004 I wrote this poem because lately I've been listening to a lot of bluegrass music, especially bluegrass collaborations with Irish and Celtic musicians. Bluegrass and other mountain music of America came into being, it's been said, out of the music that the Scotch-Irish immigrants brought with them from Europe. Somehow, the fiddle tunes and songs morphed into what we now know as traditional American folk and country music.With this in mind, I started thinking of what music might have meant to one of those Irish immigrants in his first few months deep in the mountains of a strange and foreign new land, a new home. Music played on the instruments the immigrants both carried with them and discovered in their new home must have kept them sane, kept them from missing their home too much. Music must have provided them that one last link between their old country and their new one. Obviously, music continues to be important to the descendants of these Irish and Scottish settlers, even if it sounds a lot different. So, in honor of these hardy immigrants and the music they shared with America, I've written the following poem. Homesick Immigrant Blues I miss my home and I miss my sea I miss the green rolling hills I miss all the things I left behind For chasing foreign thrills I wanted to stay but hunger was fierce I cried when we left the shore But now I seek my fortunes here I thirst to find my more America is a big, strange land So wild, so free, so bright I found myself a little farm Yet I miss my home at night When I think about old Ireland And what I left behind I pick up my trusty violin And it brings me peace of mind I play my jigs and reels and airs I play what I learned as a lad I play for those still poor and starved I play for my mum and dad posted by:Russ at 8:08 PM | Post Page | 0 comments |
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