Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Day Three Hundred Fourteen 2013

Joy 1
My Aunt Joy Brown, who will celebrate her 99th birthday on December 4, is a legend in her hometown of Gainesboro, which is located in Jackson County in Middle Tennessee. Many years ago, she handmade this Uncle Sam costume, from the hat on down to the trousers, as one of the outfits she wore to tap-dance in for the family at Christmas get togethers. Apparently, she is a born entertainer. Folks in town found out about her costume and asked her to appear at patriotic events. So she memorized a poem called ‘That Ragged Old Flag’, written by Johnny Cash, to recite on those patriotic occasions. She’s been doing this for almost two decades now. Today we attended the Veterans’ Day program in Gainesboro, and once again, Aunt Joy wore her Uncle Sam costume and recited, flawlessly, that poem [to a standing ovation afterward]. I certainly admire her tenacity and can only hope my mind is still as sharp as hers if I live to be 99.
Joy 2
Uncle Sam [a.k.a. Aunt Joy] and the veterans of Jackson County, Tennessee. Thank you, one and all, for your service to your country.
                 THAT RAGGED OLD FLAG
I walked through a county courthouse square,
On a park bench an old man was sitting there.
I said, "Your old courthouse is kinda run down."
He said, "Naw, it'll do for our little town."
I said, "Your flagpole has leaned a little bit,
And that's a Ragged Old Flag you got hanging on it.    
He said, "Have a seat", and I sat down.
"Is this the first time you've been to our little town?"
I said, "I think it is." He said, "I don't like to brag,
But we're kinda proud of that Ragged Old Flag." 
"You see, we got a little hole in that flag there
When Washington took it across the Delaware.
And it got powder-burned the night Francis Scott Key
Sat watching it writing _Oh Say Can You See_.
And it got a bad rip in New Orleans
With Packingham and Jackson tuggin' at its seams." 
"And it almost fell at the Alamo
Beside the Texas flag, but she waved on through.
She got cut with a sword at Chancellorsville
And she got cut again at Shiloh Hill.
There was Robert E. Lee, Beauregard, and Bragg,
And the south wind blew hard on that Ragged Old Flag." 
"On Flanders Field in World War I
She got a big hole from a Bertha gun.
She turned blood red in World War II
She hung limp and low by the time it was through.
She was in Korea and Vietnam.
She went where she was sent by her Uncle Sam." 
"She waved from our ships upon the briny foam,
And now they've about quit waving her back here at home.
In her own good land she's been abused --
She's been burned, dishonored, denied and refused." 
"And the government for which she stands
Is scandalized throughout the land.
And she's getting threadbare and wearing thin,
But she's in good shape for the shape she's in.
'Cause she's been through the fire before
And I believe she can take a whole lot more." 
"So we raise her up every morning,
Take her down every night.
We don't let her touch the ground
And we fold her up right.
On second thought I DO like to brag,
'Cause I'm mighty proud of that Ragged Old Flag."
                          ~Written by Johnny Cash

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Day Three Hundred Nine 2013

The autumn sun, in wonder, 
  Is gayly peering through 
This silver-tissued network 
  Across the frosty blue.  ~Evaleen Stein, November Morning

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On my way to Wal-Mart about nine this morning to do some much-needed grocery shopping and had to stop and gawk at the gorgeous November sky. And snap a quick picture, of course.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Day Seventy Eight 2013

Come, gentle Spring! ethereal Mildness! come.
~ James Thomson

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And all about, the softening air
Of new-born sweetness tells,
And the ungathered Mayflowers wear
The tint of ocean shells.
The old, assuring miracle:
is fresh as heretofore:
And earth takes up its parable of life from death once more.
~ Whittier


[We’re in the final hours of winter. Finally. Spring begins with the vernal equinox at 7:02 A.M. (EDT) on March 20, 2013 in the Northern Hemisphere. Today was a beautiful sunny blue sky spring like day, this last day of winter. But we all know ‘Mother Nature’ doesn’t pay much attention to dates on the calendar when it comes to the weather. So, for what it’s worth, goodbye winter!]

Monday, March 18, 2013

Day Seventy Seven 2013

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"March bustles in on windy feet
And sweeps my doorstep and my street.
She washes and cleans with pounding rains,
Scrubbing the earth of winter stains.
She shakes the grime from carpet green
Till naught but fresh new blades are seen.
Then, house in order, all neat as a pin,
She ushers gentle springtime in."
~ Susan Reiner, Spring Cleaning

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Day Three Hundred Thirty Three 2012

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"Yea, I have looked, and seen November there;
The changeless seal of change it seemed to be,
Fair death of things that, living once, were fair;
Bright sign of loneliness too great for me,
Strange image of the dread eternity,
In whose void patience how can these have part,
These outstretched feverish hands, this restless heart?"
~William Morris,  November

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Day Three Hundred Twenty Seven 2012

Thank You For The Food Before Us, The Family Beside Us, And The Love Between Us.
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My sister Jane, her husband Don, and their daughters Sarah and Julia, hosted our fabulous Thanksgiving meal this year. It was scrumptious and decadent. We stuffed ourselves and enjoyed every bite.
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My sister Jane—the Hostess With The Most-est! Everything was perfect. Thanks so much for the hard work you all put into this dinner/get together. Now go fill up your plate!
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I am blessed with the best family anyone could ever ask for.  Back row from left: Alex Mabry (nephew), Terry Sissom (brother in law), Julia Foy (niece), Elijah Myers (grandson), Sarah Foy (niece), Shelby Myers (granddaughter), Ann Sissom (sister), and Don Foy (brother in law). Front row from left: my hubby Neil, Kerry Kimbrough (son in law), Kelly Kimbrough (daughter), Jerry Myers (son in law), Knox Kimbrough (grandson), Holly Myers (daughter), and Jane Foy (sister). 

"Give me the end of the year an' its fun
When most of the plannin' an' toilin' is done;
Bring all the wanderers home to the nest,
Let me sit down with the ones I love best,
Hear the old voices still ringin' with song,
See the old faces unblemished by wrong,
See the old table with all of its chairs
An' I'll put soul in my Thanksgivin' prayers."
~Edgar A. Guest, Thanksgiving

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Day Two Hundred Ninety Nine 2012

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I love the leaves
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I do not know why.
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Is it their colors or how they fly?
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They crunch and crinkle under my feet.
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I pile them up
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and take a leap!
~Beth Paulsen

Monday, November 21, 2011

Day Three Hundred Twenty Five 2011

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"Ah! the year is slowly dying,
And the wind in tree-top sighing,
Chant his requiem.
Thick and fast the leaves are falling,
High in air wild birds are calling,
Nature's solemn hymn."
- Mary Weston Fordham,
Passing of the Old Year

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Day Three Hundred Thirty Four 2010

"November comes
And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.
With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.
The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring."
~~Elizabeth Coatsworth




Goodbye, November. Fall is nearly gone. Winter is three weeks away. Time to fatten up and hibernate.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Day Three Hundred Nineteen 2010


"The stripped and shapely
Maple grieves
The ghosts of her
Departed leaves.
The ground is hard,
As hard as stone.
The year is old,
The birds are flown.
And yet the world,
In its distress,
Displays a certain
Loveliness"
~~John Updike, A Child's Calendar

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Day Three Hundred Seventeen 2010

Leap!
"I love the leaves
I do not know why.
Is it their colors?
Or how they fly?
They crunch
And crinkle
Under my feet;
I pile them up
And take a leap."
~~Beth Paulsen





















Saturday, October 23, 2010

Day Two Hundred Ninety Six 2010

"The clump of maples on the hill,
And this one by the door,
Seem redder, quite a lot, this year
Than last, or year before..."
~~David L. Cady
October In Vermont






The little poem also applies to October in Tennessee. The leaves on our red maple by the back door are on fire. What will I take pictures of when they're all gone?