Edna

3100

Site Rank MAJOR GENERAL
Total poems		53
Lifetime Views		16872
Total poems - 7 days		0
Total poems - 30 days		0
Total poems - 90 days		0
Total poems - 365 days		0

you need to login or register to leave a comment

SOUTHERN POETRY

CATEGORY

just different

"When I consider Southern Poetry, the soft breeze of grace and majesty of the Old South comes back, like a long ago paradise of flowers, cotton fields, hanging trees and song birds, a sweat savor. Christian Southern Gentlemen and their Ladies Fair, their majestic columned plantation homes; happy children playing before them. But I am reminded also of Confederate Warriors suited for battle, in long gray lines, defending our Southern homeland. Southern Poetry allows me to relive as it were, our history, heritage and culture, like a weary warrior returning for a respite from the ravages of war, but for a moment, return to the splendor, grace and the nobility, a collective memory buried deep within the heart of the South.
My memories are endless. Many are detailed in "RUM GULLY ROOTS", published by Xlibris Publishing House.

You must be registered to leave a comment. Registration is FREE.

COMMENTS


		AquariusKhan says: i DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. Edna, it is VERY disrespectful to enter a site labelled "urban poetry" and reminisce about the good ol' days. Those "southern gentlemen" that you talked about belonged to a so-called Christian organization also known as the Ku Klux Klan. Confederate soldiers? Really, Edna? I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt about those "hanging trees" Bob Marley sang "Could You Be Loved?" If you're not part of the solution- you're part of the problem. Aquarius Khan poems by this commentor LOVE NEVER DIES LEGALIZE MARIJUANA I CONTAIN MULTITUDES
		Edna says: you are right. Our generation has hatred over our past ancestors. Most of us, only the sickos. Trying to start make amends. Life is not fair. Our ancestors were not fair, Forgive us for what our ancestors did. I and most like me have only love.Most of us are 'trying' to be part of the solution. poems by this commentor TOMMORROW My Old Jeep AN AMERICAN SOLDIER

OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY Edna

WHERE ARE THE NINE?

In memory of the nine firemen that perished in Charleston, SC June 21, 2007

It was seen by all for miles,

an orange glow that lit up the sky.

Lights and Sirens called for the road.

All firemen geared in their attire.

Arriving at the scene firemen gasped.

Get in, save survivors, get out!

Head counts were conducted that night.

All accounted for? But where are the nine?

NUMBER 3

Number 3
The Rivals met for the football game.
It was on a Friday night.
The Rivals were pumped and ready for blood.
Our Players were ready for the fight.

The fans in the stands were going wild.
How much excitement could they take?
The best players played all night.
No one could afford to make a mistake.

The scoreboard for the fourth quarter
Showed no touchdowns at all.
The Rivals were on our 30-yard line
And they were in control of the ball.

Only twenty seconds were left on the clock.
Still the score was zero-to-zero.
Number 3 intercepted the pass and ran 70 yards.
TOUCHDOWN!
That night he was the school's hero.

CHECKING OUT

I'm checking out,
my young days are gone.
Getting ready to settle up
before I'll be called Home.
Farming is not easy and
timber management is a chore.
Those who follow does't know
the tasks that are in store.
I have knelt by my bed
and given God my keys.
I've Paid all my bills
and if anyone asks about me.
I'm checking out
Fond memories come to light.
I won't be back no more,
'cause I'm leaving here tonight.

THE TRAIN

Some folks ride the train of life
Looking out the rear,
Watching miles of life roll by,
And marking every year.

~
~
~
They sit in sad remembrance,
Of wasted days gone by,
And curse their life for what it was,
And hang their head and cry.

~
~
~
But I don't concern myself with that,
I took a different vent,
I look forward to what life holds,
And not what has been spent.

~
~
~
So strap me to the engine,
As securely as I can be,
I want to be out in the front,
To see what I can see.

~
~
~
I want to feel the winds of change,
Blowing in my face,
I want to see what life unfolds,
As I move from place to place.

~
~
~
I want to see what's coming up,
Not looking at the past,
Life's too short for...

SMOAK

I have a very special friend.
In his work he demands perfection.
He is harder with himself.
In this, there is no exception.

He constantly walks my forest
and monitors it as his own.
a friend and a forester-
thirty one years has come and gone.
We have made some blunders .

Burning has gone out of control.
The blunders we made in the past,
friends laugh when they are told.

He is very fond of rattlesnakes?
He gently moves them out of the way.
I keep it a secret when I kill one.
He would just ruin my day.

So come join us when we burn.
We fall in holes, can't move in the vines,
smoke gets in our eyes and breath.
Look as we beat a flame that crosses the line.

LITTLE ANGEL GIRL

Every Sunday she attends church.
Her family sits on the back pew.
Contorted, Smiling, and singing,
Little Angel Girl in the back pew.

She waits for the children's sermon.
Wondering what the Pastor will do.
She smiles as she is carried to the front-
Little Angel Girl in the back pew.

The congregation begins to sing.
A voice is heard loud and true.
Everyone in church loves her.
Little Angel Girl in the back pew.

Cerebral Palsy, with complications
will not dissuade her decision.
The Pastor knows what to do.
In his arms she accepts her Lord and Savior-
Little Angel Girl in the back pew.

THE SYSTEM?

What will the system do
To a man who kills so cruel?
A few years with good behavior
Or a rehabilitation school?

Prison is not the answer.
My taxes pay their rent and food.
We need old-fashioned justice.
I don't want his life that good.

He knows the system.
He has murdered before.
27 years with good behavior
And he walked out the door.

3 days later he bludgoned
2 ladies. Old fashioned Justice?
I say change the system.
Teach these animals
An old-fashioned lesson

THE SCARECROW

We planted a wildlife patch
so our animals could munch away.
We worked hard and were proud
and checked a patch the next day.

The patch was destroyed;
turkeys had scratched up the seeds.
We were discouraged and unhappy
and turkeys watched us thru the trees.

We have to replant again.
The seeds have to germinate and grow.
How do we keep the patch protected?
We used our imagination and made a scarecrow.

As the sun fell in the west,
we were satisfied and so
silently we sneaked back to the patch.
A big Tom was strutting our scarecrow

THE DRAGONFLY

The farm was refreshed after the rain.
The smell of fall was in the air.
We noticed something sparkling
and recognized a spider's web.

In the center sat the spider,
patiently waiting for his prey.
The spider's web is a prison
should his lunch go that way.

A dragonfly makes his journey
and falls victim to the trap.
We gently pluck the dragonfly
and pull him safely out.

The weakest link on the food chain
will not make it through the day.
The complexity of the forest,
this is just Nature's way.

T HE SWAMP

Follow this long and winding road
that ends at the hardwood edge.
Enjoy the rustic view of nature,
hear the croak of faraway toads.

Feel the presence of the Master's Hand.
and listen as a fish breaks the murky water.
A cool breeze stirs, meander downhill.
See the changing terrain in the land.

Feel the dampness of the ground.
Ancestors fished Salkehatchie River;
they cleared a landing for their boat.
*Arrowheads and artifacts can also be found.*

If you desire tranquility and rest
just follow that long and winding road.
Sit against an old oak tree and
experience Nature at Her best!