Concrete and Steel
I’m tired of all this concrete, steel and glass
The smog and the exhaust from cars burning that gas
All these people pushing and shoving it’s a Rat Race
I’m so very, very tired of this God forsaken place 
I miss that clear, crisp country air filling up my lungs
Blue grass tickling my feet between my toes
Your sweet voice echoing off the hills, calling my name 

And the cool, cool spring rain upon my face
I’m so very, very tired of this God forsaken place

The Winding Road
The Narrow Winding Road, upon which I travel, holds many memories beneath the pavement. The hills at my side conceal tales of mystery and of truth. The creek below its waters bubbling and splashing falling over and around rocks whispers to me, as I travel along the Winding Road. Though the evening’s dark and cold as I walk along the Winding Road, the yellow glowing harvest moon leads me on. Near barren trees their leaves have fallen seem to reach out to the moon for some warmth. But the moon has no warmth only subdued light that shines upon my face. A misty fog surrounds me. Seemingly it rises, escaping from beneath the Winding Road. Up this Hollow and then the next, dim lights of a home and inside a Family snuggles warm beneath the handmade quilts. My nostrils are filled with the scent of smoldering oak within the belly of a cast iron stove. Sunlight above the high mountains sends rays of gold down to earth. The morning bird’s song, a rooster’s rousting alarm and the aroma of brewing coffee hasten my walk along the Winding Road. Cedar and Pine, Maple and Poplar dominate the many bright colors upon the painted landscape. Friendly passersby giver a smiling nod and a wave along the Winding Road. Soon, I will reach my destination. I will warm my hands and rest my weary bones by a glowing fire. My belly I will fill with country cooking, my Heart will overflow with the Love of Family. Not until spring will I once again find myself upon the Winding Road. This Winding Road that cuts its path over and thru the Appalachian Mountains into the foot hills and valleys of My Eastern Kentucky Home, along the Winding Road.

Original Purple Heart
Created by:
General George Washington
August 7, 1782
Wounded - there I did lie
Deep within myself - wanting to die
My eyes bound by white
To protect them from the light

Flesh torn by metal when the IED blew
Scars upon scars some hidden from view
Wounded, there I did lie
Though not mortally I wanted to die

Gently caressed to soothe and heal
Behind the pain sweet release I did feel
Weeks into months the Angel at my side
Soft hands upon my head still I wanted to die

Through a shattered voice few words did I share
Deafened ears no sound just silence in the air
Hands in comforting hands I there did lie
No longer dead within but still I wanted to die

A warm embrace cheek to cheek time to go
Self-pity and regret emptiness in my soul
The silence and endless darkness deep
I crave for light an endless sleep

Mortally wounded dead deep inside
Quietly sobbing I lie down to die.

The Cool Kentucky Rain
Under the cool Kentucky rain, 
Turtledoves cooed and Robbins sang.
As we gathered all, to say goodbye, 
Be strong you’d said, I could not cry. 

Under the cool Kentucky rain, 
The Pastor spoke of all you’d gain. 
No… not of what we had all lost,
For the little ones, such a high cost. 

Under the cool Kentucky rain,
The Bugler blew Taps with no refrain.
While tears of anger filled my eyes,
Clinching my fists I looked to the sky. 

Under the cool Kentucky rain,
Seven rifles fired again, again and again.
And as they folded the red, white and blue
Still I… I could not cry for you.

Under the cool Kentucky rain,
The cool Kentucky rain,
The cool Kentucky rain,

A Friend
Does your Friend know what you’re about?
Can your Friend trust with no doubt?
Did your Friend ask you for a resume?
Will your Friend be there tomorrow and today?

A True Friend should never question
The others’ motivation or intention.
A True Friend remains always loyal
Through lives pain and turmoil.

A True Friend gives from the Heart
The other accepts - Till death do us part.
A True Friend will always be the same
Though the journey yield bitter sweet pain.

Defeating the Monster
Bitter – So full of pain
Fear of going insane
No one else to blame
Conceal all the shame

On the edge – fall to fall
My heart seemingly does stall
Misery – my name does call
He that I am – I do appall

Besieged – I battle hard as I might
Complicated – wrong from right
Ominous the day – the night
My soul yearns to take flight

Times of yore I cannot sever
A part of my persona – forever
Obstacles – I must climb over
Defeat the Monster – Will I never?

I feel my best when I’m - Standing in a drizzling rain, fishing pole in hand, watching fish pop the surface of the lake as impacting rain drops send out tiny circular waves. Eyes fixed on the bobbing float, hands firmly on the rod and reel anticipating the slightest movement. The quiet calm and gentle soft rain upon my face has a wonderfully soothing affect. I could care less if a fish ever takes the bait. I am content and at peace.  Nothing like catching the elusive ones, then, after a big wet kiss, throw them back.

Mistress Spider
Yesterday; maybe the day before
I sat in the rocker outside my door.
On the front porch enjoying the day
In the quiet solitude, I drifted away.

Sweet Appalachia, with foot-hills so green
No perfect a backdrop have ever I seen.
Hickories and Pines, Silver Maples that shine Colorful wild flowers a scene so sublime.

There in my peripheral, it caught my eye
A glitter of sun light to my right up high.
At first I ignored, my gaze to the front
But; sparkling again, my eye it did shut.

Again with purpose, it called for my attention
Looking for the source, I shifted my position.
There in the space between post and beam
Tiny silken threads so brilliantly did gleam.

My eyes now affixed as if in a trance
I watched contently, glad for the chance.
Minute upon minute, hour upon hour
Mistress Spider – was laboring there.

Mistress Spider did weave, with such precision
Could an architect create a better rendition?
From beam to post – and post to beam
She did never tire, or so it did seem.

Nearly completed, her web glistened bright
Unwavering, she would finish before the night.
Long were the shadows – cool was the breeze
She spun her last thread with notable ease.

Slowly and deliberately I arose from my chair
And turned on the porch light to squelch glare.
More beauty and magnificence was now revealed
Such was my wonderment, I inwardly applauded.

Insects and moths now swarmed around
Mistress Spider sat quietly, her options abound.
Perched in the corner between post and beam
Sharpening her fangs and planning a scheme.

Between post and beam his final mistake
A fluttering of wings a moth met his fate.
Tugging at the thread, the silk so fine
Signaling Mistress Spider – her occasion to dine.

My Bubbling Brook
Once pure, sweet and clear quenching thirst upon thirst
A bubbling brook did caress the moss clothed rocks
Flowers and blooms all sorts and scents bordered
The brooks’ cool water flowed ever onward

Now tainted a trickle no thirst can it quench
Green moss retreating now barren rocks
The poisoned ground no fruit will bear
Thistles, thorns and weeds ever near

Seek the sweet water free the flow
Quench the thirst or bid adios

No Fireworks This Day
No fireworks this day
A Hero has passed away
Two hundred years of Freedom
A special soul to God’s Kingdom

No bombs bursting in air
At his bedside five Brothers there
Honor thee a fallen one
Silence - at peace another son

No bands playing “Oh say can you see?”
Angels carry him home, no songs of glee
A sorrowful tune – Taps – The Bugler blew
The sky weeping misty morning dew

No rockets' red glare, bombs bursting in air
Broken Hearts and tears Loved Ones share
On their lips – “In God We Trust”
Ashes to Ashes – Dust to Dust

The Cost – However so Great
Ragged and dirty no shoes on his feet
Head held low – no strangers to meet
Long hair, grey beard – lips a thin line
Turn you face – avoid his kind

When did it happen – Pride to shame
No Honors rendered – No Glory or fame
Once tall and strong with shoulders square
No less a man – He breaths the same air

Acknowledge him there – reach out your hand
A smile from the soul as best he can
Under the hat – eyes a deep clear blue
Grand stories to tell – If only you knew

A bashful dollar – You hurry on
Homeless – Helpless all hope is gone
How – When – Why you wonder inside
His Honor and Glory forever to hide

True Blue
You traveled a great distance from there to here
From your home you fled, to us you came.
To begin a new life for you and yours, a dream
Hopping for a world of equality and truth you came.

There you were hated, shunned and scorned
But here you are loved, appreciated and accepted.
You fled from tyranny to us, a quest for freedom
Among the diverse multitude you are as one united.

Upon your arrival we welcomed you with open arms
As if a long lost son you were cradled and comforted.
All to you was given and the price… oh so small
Your respect, love and loyalty, all that was expected.

Your differences valued your contributions received
We have sheltered and protected you under our wing
United we stand divided we fall, our Motto you echoed
Cloaked in our colors how loudly our song you do sing.

Now; the time for you to walk freely upon our land
Selflessly we asked only of one pledge from you.
Hold, cherish and defend with your whole heart
We who love and protect our own, The Red-White and Blue

Two Hearts – Two Souls
My Sweet Darling let me come near
I have many things to whisper in your ear
My Sweet Darling – Come take my hand
Let us walk together – Our feet in the sand

My Sweet Darling I’ll make you my wife
Love everlasting – The rest of my life
My Sweet Darling walk down the aisle
So beautiful My Bride- Oh what a smile

My Sweet Wife – I am yours – You are mine
Hold me tight – Let our bodies entwine
Two Hearts now one – to never part
Our Souls as one – right from the start

Bury The Hatchet
Perhaps; many years ago, before you were born
She said, He said something offensive and fowl
They said, She said, that her heart was torn
By such vile words, on his face an ugly scowl

The deed is done, the words are spoken
Only fragments of a by- gone war remain
Heal the wounds and accept the token
Love your enemy and shout this refrain

Bury the Hatchet let us war no more
Bury the Hatchet and with it, it’s shame
Bury the Hatchet and let your Love soar
Bury the Hatchet and with it the blame

Cleanse it from your heart and mind
To never speak of, or even think of
Embrace the freedom, pain left behind
Live in Love and Peace, a gift from above

Bury the Hatchet let us war no more
Bury the Hatchet and with it, it’s shame
Bury the Hatchet and let your Love soar
Bury the Hatchet and with it the blame

Bury the Hatchet – Revisited
After reading the above poem, my Baby sister, made an observation. An observation which is very true. it's hard to bury the hatchet if the other(s) involved are not willing to do the same."

I replied with a comment about the obstacles others may face with regard to offering an apology for something they may have said or done to offend the other. I will attempt to put to words my personal philosophy on this subject. My simple poem about burying the hatchet was meant to spark some thought where they may have been none. It seems that it did.

Historically; Burying the Hatchet was a custom among the Native Americans in the Eastern United States. The Native Americans would put away the tomahawk at the cessation of hostilities. Specifically, in the Iroquois Confederacy, weapons were to be buried or otherwise cached in time of peace. The American English gave this tradition symbolizing 'To Make Peace', the phrase; "To Bury the Hatchet."

Let’s imagine an on-going war between two powers of equal strength and status. This war has been lingering for many years, similar to a cold war. A war of words, non-words, and back-ward glances, dead stares, posturing, and avoidance, hurtful and demeaning acts one toward the other. Both parties, although puffed up with pride and self worth, wish for an end to the hostilities. Neither is willing to back down or be the first to show signs of surrender. The war is costing both sides much in the way of energy and resources. In fact, so much time and effort is being put into the war that both are missing much of life's pleasures. Time continues to move in a forward direction. The two warring parties are left standing still, at their guard, one against the other.

We; on the out-side looking in, wish to remain on the out-side. This is not all-together possible as we are close allies of each party. We have special and unique bonds with one or the other party, making it difficult to not choose sides. We; observe the destruction caused by this seeming senseless war, and cry out for an end to it. Our cries are fall silent, kept to ourselves as to not offend one or the other. We; enable this Cold War by our own cowardice. Our reluctance to hold each party accountable for their actions and non-actions. We; must be the ones to demand a discuss to reach terms for each party to stand-down, and "Bury The Hatchet."

PTSD A Troubling Taciturnity
 What would you have me speak of,
What would you have me say?
Are you interested in my thoughts
Or just intrigued by the way

I sometimes sit in silence,
My veiled eyes fixed within
As I look back on horrific scenes
From places I have been?

Do you really care why I brood?
Would you like to share this mood?
Do you truly want to come with me,
Live these things I can't help but see?

They've dwelt within me for so long
In the private places of my soul
They're now an integral part of me
And cannot be so easily told

To someone who does not know
How such terrible things came to be
Though I long to purge myself of them
So that I can once again be free.

I beg you, have a little patience,
And wait for just a bit more
Until the day I can come to you
To share what makes my heart sore.

Please never, never, ever think
These are secrets I wish to keep;
If I could, I'd give them all away
In exchange for dreamless sleep.

But, for now, and just a while longer
Hopefully, not for eternity,
With your patient understanding
I'll keep it all inside of me.

Author Unknown

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