A Country Rag ~ Word Preserve Volume 6
From ev'ry mountain-side
Let freedom ring!
Let music swell the breeze
And ring from all the trees
Sweet freedom's song;
Let mortal tongues awake;
Let all that breathe partake:
Let rocks their silence break,
The sound prolong.
by Rufus Skeens
"Honeysuckle," "Against Night," "Holy Land," and "September Eulogy"
by Frances Lamberts
"All Causes Shall Give Way"
by Frances Lamberts
"How Do Frogs Do It?"
By Faith Alone
by Eunice Soper
"Mommy's Surprise," "Decorated Crutches," and "The Monument"
"The Helping Hand," "Chip Off the Block," and "The Steady Iceberg"
"Hands That Slip," "The Unforgiving One," "Forgiving the Murderer," and "A Full Fist"
(Click right and left arrows above for mini-slideshow)|
Graphics: Music on the Square, photos by Steve Cook
Hands by Barbara Eberly
Granny taught me to sew and knit and tat
And cook with whatever came to hand.
I've made lye soap by her recipe
And carded cotton for her loom.
But she didn't teach me to make
Pine straw baskets.
Somebody invited a woman to our
Thursday afternoon get-together.
She said she wanted to show us how.
So we each got a pile of straw
And some ribbon
And I found my hands remembered
How to hold and bend and add to the straw.
I made a small bowl while
Other women littered the floor
With pine needles and laughed.
"You've done this before!" they said.
And I said, "No.
I don't think so."
But I think Granny's mother
Might have done it.
Granny always said
I had her hands.
by Franky Gibson
"Behind the Smile"
"Changing of the Guard," "Chiaroscuro for KY Miner," and "Mam Knew"
by Teri Browning
Each day, you give me promise
soaking hands in your moist, dark body
inhaling free dreams of rosemary, thyme and mint
While releasing any doubts transpiring fears
giving you an abundance of new flowers
and lively worms
Each day, I am amazed by your ability
to adjust to any circumstance that greets you
or may challenge your survival
rain, snow, harsh wind or feeding squirrels
Each day, I gaze into the golden faces
of bursting sunflowers that soon I know
will grow taller than me
they do every summer
Each day, I thank God for the gift of earth
and I hold seeds in my hands now
when I pray.
-- originally from Akron, Ohio, Deborah M. Priestly lives and writes now from Cambridge MA. Visit her website at www.out-of-the-blue.addr.com
Volume 5 of Archives
Little brown flower
all wild and free
growin' where it want to be
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Where the heck am I?
Original material © A Country Rag April 1996, 2003. All rights reserved.