Creeks of This Land

I have crossed the streams,
those flowing movements,
that come from beneath,
massive groves of Oaks,
trickling down the hillside,
merging with others,
whose journey leads,
to places yet seen.

I have drank from these streams,
whose merger became a name,
so often softly repeated,
dismounting from my steed,
to cup my hands,
to sup, of this nourishment,
to quince my thirst,
whereas,this grace,
I am satisfied.

The names become a chant,
that only the Eagle can sing,
as it flies overhead,
chased by the Hawk,
chased by the Crow,
with a small Sparrow,
trailing behind,
all traveling the red road.

Creeks, and not the native,
thou, without the natives,
all would have been diminished,
in the name of progress,
daring to preserve,
what the creator gave,
all, all of this land.

I ride, I look to the sky,
I dismount, cup my hands,
oh, I do remember thy name,
and feel most blessed,
that my parched lips,
have tasted thy cool waters,
oh Cypress, oh Caney,
oh Brushy, and the Oak,
and least not Bear.

To Sandy I sing my praise,
and dance by the shores of Quicksand,
knowing your dangers,
reaching only for berries,
that hang upon the vines,
eat of the Muscadines,
truly with a satisfied mind,
having riden pass the Cow,
and even Franks Branch,
to settle in the Pocket,
along with the panther and bear.

Oh sing of the waters,
flowing through this land,
these creeks, even Indian,
this still is but a few,
The Crow,the Trout, and so many,
that flow across this land,
we pass by once again,
and must give thanks.

milking tribute to Ole Joe Hennigan

PIG MILK CHEESE AND BAGELS


Pig-milk-cheese (well fermented) is most excellent when served on a true bagel...a sow does not give out much milk, about 4 ounces a day per sow. It is most difficult to milk one, a very labor intensive job...

Most efficient if utilizing children under the age of 3 to milk the sows, their hands are just the right size...I employed 200 under 3 years of age "domestic workers" to complete this job... the draw back is often they will fall asleep or crawl down by the sow and nurse.

This requires a very strong willed manager, who walks by using a riding crop to keep the hired workers at their highest productivity....I defer upon the suggest of milking AR Kansas Razorbacks, they often damage the workers with their teeth...I was wet nursed on a piney woods sow, thus, is the source of my great intellect.

Old Joe Hennigan, {(I was blessed to talk to Joe just after Franks passing, and reflected to him about how in the 8th grade someone had placed a tack in Franks chair during the lunch period…(not me)…

To see (big rear end) Frank rise was a sight to behold…a time when schools were safe both for the teachers and the students)}…Joe taught me Algebra at Fields/Hyatt, had the ability to spin…one was about how to milk a Poland China…take a milking stool and a tea cup…This memory has been embedded until this composition…To free the mind, is thus the most liberating experience one can experience…

A Short Tale of Geo, Hyper and Parallel

A short tale of Geo, Hyper, and Parallel
and how they attempted to fool Euclid, and Descartes,
by sneaking off from school and across its yard

Once upon a late Spring Evening,
the classroom suddenly seemed vacated,
Euclid was up at the board,
talking about this and that,
turning around, discovering his best was a miss,
he turned seeing that Calculus,
was dozing on the back row,
notorious for being an instigator,
yet, he was there.

Euclid called for the truant officer,
sending him to look,
with him finding the trio,
down by the duck pond.
He thus asked of Geo,
why he was not in school,
Geo me try,
he did reply,
queried of Parallel,
oh, do you want me,
to hand you a line,
last was Hyper,
with the look of his eyes,
the officer knew he was in space.

By the neck,
the trio was hauled to old Descartes,
the principal and who had the rule,
saying to Geo Me try,
next speaking,
about Parallel Lines,
seeing that Hyper
was in space,
time was a waste.

Where ever we go in life,
we will encounter this trio,
Geo Me try,
Parallel Lines,
and Hyper Space,
they will always play with our minds,
thanks to Ms Stein and her roses,
we still can rhyme.

Goin' Teaux Grandma's for Christmas

Goin Teaux Grandmas for Christmas

The year was '48,
aheadin' to Grandmas for Christmas,
drivin' through the woods,
passin' those giant pines,
crossin' so many streams,
mama called them out,
all along that route,
here's the Atachafayla,
and then the wide Mississippi,
names, we could not speak,
words that made our tounges twist,
then she cried here's Puschatap creek,
her excitement showed in her cheeks,
children, we close to mama's,
oh, how it seemed it been a week.
for in a '42 Ford to Grandma's,
and how papa did drive.

Oh how our head was full of treats,
that only grandma could spread,
crossin the Huey P Long bridge,
papa sounded like a preacher,
at a piney woods pulpit,
just a talkin' about that savior,
ole Huey P, and did he speak,
mama exclaiming to papa,
lets save that sermon for next week.

There in Red Baton town,
hitting the streets,
we stopped to take a peek,
there was no time to spend,
we were herded again,
we are not piney woods cattle,
wild upon the range,
still mama shoved us it seems,
back into that '42 Ford,
and onto US 190,
Eastward to grandma's,
there,we were bound.

Racing through the picket gate,
like a herd of piney woods cattle,
wild upon the range,
running about myrtle bush,
racing up the steps,
and there stood grandpa,
upon the front stoop,
he looked so grand,
grandma's house was smellin,
the goose was acookin,
she had bowls of sweet tators,
for us to peel,
if we were to eat,
ole grandma had a deal,
we had to earn our keep.

Don't make a mess,
if you want to partake,
of this Christmas feast,
with smell of bake goose,
deep dark and sweet,
sat that pecan pie,
of Grandpa Lowe's Thanksgivings pecans,
that Grandpa had shelled,
be bragged, for over a week,
and did Grandma cook,
she was part Fornea,
loved passin' chicory coffee round,
is there more to say,
all her eating,
placed so gracefully,
upon that table round,
with her cornbread dressing,
would we make a mess,
no, not for Grandma's tables spread.

Uncle Charles and Uncle James,
gifts they did bring,
for they had just returned,
from that foreign war,
being proud of their service,
we greeted them on the porch,
with screams of excitement,
and of treasured joy,
this we could not control,
we were mere children,
with so much to behold.

After endless hours,
to us children it did seem,
we finally set upon cane woven chairs,
and how did ours eyes feast,
for this was a true spread,
Grandpa's head started to bow,
our hands settled down,
for we were no longer wild cattle,
we wanted to eat of this feast,
as grace was given,
seems like an hour,
as our taste buds quivered,
to savor on this feast.

Oh, for once again,
to travel to Grandma's,
this would be a joy,
as Grandma now,
sings in heavens choir,
instead, it's these memories,
precious and priceless in name,
ever so thankful,
of those whose table awaited,
for a herd of piney woods cattle,
to partake of this holiday feast,
everlasting memories of childhood,
these,will never cease.









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