**** Back Through The Years ****

Sorry, your browser doesn't support Java(tm).

The Little Old Town

Nestled way back in the valley and off the beaten path
Sets this little old town so peaceful and quiet
No way to this town but a winding two lane road
The bustle of city life has not disturbed her yet
A single gas station you see as you enter town
One of the last where they gladly service you
They come to you and greet you with kindness and good cheer
As they fill your car with gas, clean windows and check oil too
They give out information and answer questions when asked
When all is complete they bid good day to you
A lasting friendly impression they have now made
As you look back they are waving to you too
Proceeding along you see this little barber shop
The red, white and blue pole spinning round and round
You look in and see one single and well worn chair
And listening carefully can still hear the clippers buzzing sound
The old barber greets you as you open the door and walk in
A few sit in chairs, waiting their turn, reading, waiting and talking
Sitting there listening to the history of this town and what had been
Now upon leaving down the sidewalk you go slowly walking
Being greeted by everyone that passes your way
They are so friendly and help you when you are in need
Stopping there exchanging stories in the bright sun of the day
Not any arguing or speeding cars as from the city you remember
But the silence as you listen to the birds hidden high in the trees
Your skin being so warm from the sun beating down on you
Then suddenly being swept by a quick but soft cooling breeze
I see the painted white gazebo sitting in amongst a bed of sweet flowers born from seed
Two lovers sitting under a tree in the shade from the mid day sun
Quietly there monuments to the towns many heroes, do proudly stand
Ones who had, without question, answered their country’s call
Many giving their life for others on a far distant land
So then into the general store I went just to see
What history and pleasures, inside of there, would I find
The door knob turned with a squeak and a little bell did ring
The caretaker welcomes you in and helps you with what you need to find
There behind the counter he stands with hair so gray
A big old smile looks permanent on his face
The feeling I have when I see him puts my mind at ease
As many years of life, his wrinkles, my eyes did trace
You can see the soda fountain counter shining so bright
With the vinyl covered stools that spin around and around
Ages, both young and old, order their fountain drinks or a cone
My heart fills with joy as I hear the children’s happy sound
Jars of stick candy, on the counter, in a row stand
As the different smells of each flow into my head
There is orange, cherry, apple and peppermint to name a few
As the children’s wants for their candy was certainly fed
I saw the old red metal coke machine standing silent against the wall
Looking in each window I saw bottle caps of different brands
The refreshing feeling as I buy one and take a long sip
I hear the owner joking with the people from where he stands
I walk up and down aisles of worn boards that creek
Totally amazed at all that I see there
Everything on the shelves are in rows and so neat
As there is everything there from food to hardware
If these floors could talk I am sure of the stories that would tell
Of young children that passed over them and into adults had grown
We would know of special people who had passed over them each day
And of many other stories none of us had yet known
The owner had so much pride in this old place
As he could find anything when he was by customer’s asked
We would watch as he would walk to the exact spot
He could give advice on anything you had been tasked
Then I past the single room bakery right next door
The aroma of fresh baked goods filled the air
A big sign welcoming all that passed to come on in
There were cookies, cakes, pies and breads everywhere
Aroma filled the store and would make you want to eat
Much care and pride was taken as all was cooked just right
The beautiful decorations on many of these items
Made such an inviting and enticing down home sight
Next was the little building where I watched people come and go
It looked so clean in its gleaming coat of white paint
As it set nestled back against the hill with trees of green
Making it look so inviting and a quaint sight to see
Inside was all the important offices of this little town
The town clerk, police station, and post office to name a few
There on the wall was a sign pointing the way downstairs
As in the basement was a well used library too
The post office is bustling as they come and go
Others stop and exchange the news of this proud little town
Telling of friends, family and loved ones that were not well off
So much information was being passed all around
The clerk behind the counter seemed to know everyone’s name
To me this was so nice and made everyone feel close
The smiles on everyone’s face made me feel warm and so welcome
And all the pictures I had seen I will remember those
Now the last thing of note in this town was at the end of the street
A quiet little church with a steeple standing so proud
The grass so green as it bordered this sacred place
As on Sunday’s the air is filled with the choir’s joyous sounds so loud
The doors are never locked so any time one can go to pray
And in times of hardship there you can go to pray
As the town always comes on Sundays to the service for all
The preacher standing at the pulpit spreading God’s holy word his way
Well the time has come for me to be on my way
But I am glad that this winding road I had found
And traveling along to see what lay at its very end
I found myself in awe of the people of this Little Old Town

© Tall Mountain Dreamer February 19, 2001



Little Old Steam Engine

Driving along this road back in the woods
Where in the early days the lumberjacks earned their keep
Looking around quietly as I drove along
Thinking of the stories that these woods did keep
When there by the road was a little piece of track
Just long enough to be the base for a beautiful sight
There in its paint it wore many years ago while at work
Set a beautiful old steam engine in the bright summer light
The look it had as I looked at that engine so proud
Told me it was proud of all the work it had done
Though each day may have been long and weary
As doing something important it surely was fun
It had one car connected to it that was full of wood
This was the one that carried the fuel to make the engine go
Trudging along the winding track by the river bank
No matter the weather it would go in the rain, sleet or even snow
It would go along and pick up the piled up logs where they lay
Readied for it by the lumberjacks who were steadily at work all day
Under the huge wait of those large virgin trees it carried
As it climbed the steep hills it slowly chugged along its way
The mighty steel wheels that had once rolled along
Driven by pistons powered by the engines steam
As it moved along the spray of the white steam would land all around
To announce its arrival the engineer would make the whistle scream
Then after a full load was put on the cars that it towed
Off to the unloading point it went as into the river the logs would go
And the strain that it felt from this such heavy task
This proud little steam engine never let it show
I stood there and thought as I looked at the engine this day
As I could see the fireman covered in sweat from the heat
As he threw logs into the huge boiler’s fire so hot
Keeping up the power was certainly no easy feat
He treated the boiler like it was so fragile and would break
As the heat inside was so great as it made the steam it would need
And moving the wood from the car to where it could be thrown in
Was a back breaking job and certainly no easy deed
The engineer I could clearly see as he sat on his seat
Framed by the black open window that I looked in
Sat there in his engineer’s cap of gray and white
And looking down at me from where he sat he gave a nod and a grin
I nodded my head towards him letting him no words were needed
As I understood the task that now lay at hand each and every day
And all the hours he would spend going back and forth
As all along the trips he made, his hand on the throttle would stay
I could clearly see the white smoke coming from its stack
As the little old steam engine moved along that track so winding
Blowing back overhead the train as it rolled slowly along
The pistons hard at work as back and forth they were steadily pounding
I could see the train at the end of the day making its last run
As out of the woods for the last time it then came
And there on the front was a number it wore so proud
As this was what was given it for a fine and strong name
The lumberjacks who had been deep in the woods working so hard
Had all climbed aboard this little steam engine that day
As loaded down it brought them all safely out of the woods
And when the sun rose again on the next day that would soon come its way
It would be loaded down with these same group of men
As back to their jobs it would take them with ease
Slowly rolling through the woods so silent on this morning
As its metal was brushed by the early morning summer’s cool breeze
Now I looked at this majestic little steam engine where it stood
And in my heart I knew after all that time it had earned this rest
As there was one thing I could be sure of without any spoken words
That this Little Old Steam Engine had always done it’s best

© Tall Mountain Dreamer February 22, 2001



The Lumberjacks Story

Way back in the hills where the trees are tall
There live many a man that have watched trees fall
Off to work they would go at the break if day
Working many long hours for way too little pay
They worked in camps all year round
The woods came alive with the crashing trees sound
It all started with the breaking of the day
As the smell of cooking slowly seeped their way
They would all raise and wash up in cool water
As soon they would head to breakfast a little later
The smell of bacon and eggs frying and biscuits piping hot
Quickly over to the mess tent by their strong legs they were brought
Biscuits and gravy, eggs, bacon and ham too
So much food there, they would eat until they were full too
Then they would grab their coats and go out for the day
As falling trees until dark they will all stay
Out there until all the work had been done
Many blisters on their hands is this really fun
Their muscles ache and their pains are many
As the trees felled today would number many
You can hear the sound of the ax against the wood
As quick as it was going today’s count would be good
The chips were flying and laying all around
As the scent of the cut wood in the air did abound
The fresh scent of the soft firs and of the great pine
Filled everyone’s head with freesh scents including mine
The saws could be heard as their teeth through the wood did rip
As they paused off and on and from the drinking water too a cool sip
They would break for lunch at the mid marking of the day
Some would eat and others relaxing would lay
The heat was building as the sun beat down from on high
Nothing to shade them from that bright sun in the sky
Their muscles were strained and every ounce of strength they used
Some as the day went on would be cut and also bruised
The bustling of them all moving around filled the air
The yell of "TIMBER" so that all could move clear
Then the day would be over as back to the camp they did go
The work of the day on them did surely show
Some a little slower walked now then they had at the days beginning
But soon at the camp these days memories they would be releasing
As they would sit and joke and drink a little cheer
Some would have hard liquor while others drank beer
Some would sing songs that traveled from camp to camp each day
Bringing joy to all that heard these tunes come their way
Then into the bunkhouse they would all then go for the night
With little gas lamps lit that were giving out a very dim light
The fire in the wood stove was all they had for heat
As times in the morning the cold had nipped at their feet
The smell of tobacco hung heavy in the room where they lay
As a heavy smoke hung from the ceiling right away
The smell of the days sweat filled the air so thick inside
As some of these men had worked and bravely with pride
Many ages did you see as you looked around everywhere
But the young and the old both had stories they would share
Some would tell of others that died in a bad accident one day
And of others with old age had quietly slipped away
But each was remembered as off every morning they did go
As their souls were buried deep in the only heaven they did know
So as the trees are topped and the branches trimmed away
Many more trees will be dropped this very day
And as the yell of the ones that were dead and gone
In each one of their comrades their memories live on and on

© Tall Mountain Dreamer February 16, 2001



A Lone Chimney Stands

As I walk along this wooded trail
The leaves on trees being blown by the cool breeze
Walking along not knowing what I would find
My eyes looking all around for what they might see
I turn a bend in that path that winds lazily along
And a small field opens up in front of me there
As if someone had lived there a long time ago
They had cleaned all the trees from this meadow with care
As I stood there and slowly began to look around
I saw it there, partially hidden in a group of trees so tall
This old stone chimney standing by itself
As I looked I saw nothing else around at all
So I stopped for a minute to get a closer look
So through the long blades of grass I slowly walked now
Back to where that chimney now stands hid
Wondering what brought it here and how
The wind blew gently as it passed through the trees
Moving the branches slowly back and forth
Trying to cool the heat of this hot summer day
Not accomplishing much but a little for what it was worth
Then when I arrived at the chimney I could finally see
That once a house at the edge of this field had stood
This chimney was of stone and had a fireplace
And it was probably heat for an old cabin of wood
I could see the cabin with its logs laid just right
The thick glass windows cut into the walls on each side
The smoke coming from this chimney, disappearing into the sky
The rough wooden door was welcoming and open wide
I could see a lazy dog as it was curled up on the front porch
Laying right next to an old, worn rocking chair
The smell of fresh pastries coming from inside
Being readied for the family that soon would eat there
I could see the mother hanging clothes out to dry
As she had a line that was stretched between two trees
The clothes would be dried real fast today
As the sun was hot and there was that summer breeze
There were two kids playing out front of the house
A boy and a younger girl dressed in clothes so plain
Running along trying so hard to fly a homemade kite
The thoughts putting a smile on my face that would remain
I saw the father out in that little pasture with his horse team
Making a garden to grow them some food to eat
He had cleared all the brush and trees
And working long hard days by hand it was no easy feat
The mother would cook each meal using the fireplace I now saw
Being heated by the pieces of the split wood
I could almost smell the meal of the day right then
And making me hungry as in my mind it surely smelled good
This house stood alone with no others around
But this special placed had surely been picked just right
Cause all I saw in the memories that were brought back
In my mind had made one beautiful sight
Now the years had passed and that family was all gone
All that remained was a run down cabin and a chimney of stone
No more laughing, smiling, or happy voices could be heard
As now empty of all the little log cabin and chimney were alone
Soon the wood would rot and the weather the cabin would fall
But that proud stone chimney did proudly stand
Not giving in to the testaments of times now gone
But able to bring back memories of time so grand
Reminding people that others used to live here a long time ago
A marker that had seen all types of weather pass it by
The rain, snow, sleet and cold them came and went
Even the heat from the hot sun looking down from up high
So as I get ready to move on along this path this day
I can see that this Chimney, of us, makes no demands
And I will always remember this place and will return now and then
To where this old lone chimney stands

© Tall Mountain Dreamer February 23, 2001



The Old Plow

As I drove along that winding country road
Watching as fields of green pastures pass me by
The long blades of grass swaying back and forth
Being warmed by the sun in the bright summer sky
Then my eyes saw this old plow from years gone past
Sitting quietly now, the blade covered with rust
Thinking back in time as I look at it silently sitting there now
I could see my grandfather working it and it kicking up dust
The two large draft horses with blinders on their eyes
Their muscles straining as they pulled against the plow
Strapped into their harness of shining black leather
Making furrows so straight and long where plants would soon grow
I could see my grandfather as he tiredly walked along behind
Holding the reigns softly in his hard callused hands
He pauses for a second as he lifts his hat and wipes sweat from his brow
The hot summer sun beating down on him where he stands
Many times that plow with him had traveled back and forth
As more and more the blade slowly turned the dirt over
Making it ready for the crop’s seeds that would be planted
Some would be sold and the rest would be used for food for sure
Suddenly that blade comes to an abrupt stop right then
As looking my grandfather sees it is a rock it has found
Another missing chip has been caused on that hallowed blade
Which will be removed when at seasons end that blade is again ground
The handles are worn from my grandfathers sweat filled grip
As many years that plow he had guided along
Not once did that blade fail to cut a path
As through all these years it had worked long and hard
The rain had beaten down on this old plow many times
As it had been left out where it had ended the day
The wood was now a dull as it had been bleached
By the sun beating on those hot summer days
Many crops this plow had prepared for over the years
As it had proudly served my grandfather so well
And knowing if this mighty plow could only to me speak
Many lonely tales and other stories it would be able to tell
It would surely tell of the days that times were hard
As it watched one day as machines came and pushed it quickly aside
And it lonely watched as these machines could surely do the task faster
Turning over the ground so easy, that it had once turned over with pride
Now it had been forgotten and would spend its last days all alone
As I saw us as children come to it and as make believe farmers we play
But at times of the day it is sheltered by the fields lone standing tree
But as I looked now I could see that forever now idly it would stay
It is a shame that this once proud plow will, with its stories
Will have to rot away in this lonely field this way
As soon it handles will fall and the blade will be all gone
And soon the old plow will have faded away
No more fields will this proud plow travel over in the heat of the day
But I am thankful that my eyes had spotted it right now
And the memories of my childhood it brought back to me
And now in my memories I will always remember The Old Plow

© Tall Mountain Dreamer February 22, 2001



The Mighty Ship And Me

I stand on my hillside looking out over the sea
There stands a tall proud pine tree there beside of me
I come to this hillside to look out as often as I can
Because I have always felt the sea calling this young man
I turned to that pine tree and carved my initials there
As this would be to reminder to others that I had stood there
Then as the days passed and into a young man I grew
I yearned to be a ship builder as my ancestors had been too
And to share in the pride that they had in every ship they put to sea
Their soul and spirit sailing away is what intrigued me
I would go there as I was growing these craftsman to watch
From the ones who made planks to the ironsmith and his latch
The carpenters are all working as I catch the odor of fresh wood
Knowing that using their pride and heart all they made was good
I would always end up on that wharf that went out into the sea
As this is the one spot that keeps calling out to me
I watch as the ship builders start with some wood
Knowing that with their pride they would turn out something good
Each day they work with sweaty brows under the hot summer sun
Thinking to myself how helping them would be so much fun
As each day of the years went by I would come back to this very place
Fond memories of all I had seen would surely make my mind race
Now my learning complete a job I hope to be bale to land
As all I wanted was to be a ship builder and proudly by my ancestors stand
I could hardly wait for my first ship to carry my heart and soul to sea
As no greater privilege in life could there possibly be
So I settled in and learned this job so well
As stories of the mighty ships, my children I could tell
From the solid wood that’s brought, the hull we start to make
And the making of this beautiful ship a long time would take
As the sweat dripped from my brow each day, I toiled away
Seeing this beautiful ship come to life more and more each day
Soon the hull was built so strong and true by us all
As we each answered, for a new ship, the sea’s beckoning call
Each piece of wood was so smooth and fit together so tight
And as we left at the end of the day, that hull set silent in the night
The next day would bring us work on the deck for sure
Working with wood so smooth, virgin and pure
Each plank fit together so smooth, flat and tight
Turning those planks into a deck of such a beautiful sight
Now the deck was all built as were the rooms down below
The beauty of this sailing ship, each day did grow
The rolls of bleached white canvas laid on the docks there
As from these the sails would be made with professional care
The material was all measured and cut just right
The beauty of these sails full of wind, what a majestic sight
The seamer’s could be seen putting every stitch in just right
So they made them a seam that was straight and so tight
As by hand each needed seam they carefully did sew
As they all wanted them to last even when the harsh winds did blow
So these yards would be carried by arms so smooth and so long
Made from the purest of timber as they had to be strong
These arms would be held by masts towering way up high
The arms and masts silhouetted against the blue summer sky
The deck was now ready for the masts that numbered just three
Each would be made from a pure, proud and strong tree
Upon each mast the yard arms would hang so straight
As for those white canvas sails they did silently wait
The two end masts were finally set into place
As to the hull of the ship these great masts they did brace
Now for the main mast we were as ready as can be
As I could see it had been cut from a mighty and proud tree
It reminded me of times way back when on that hill I silently looked out to the sea
And that mighty old tree that had towered way over me
The one where my initials I had carefully carved way back then
As my mind wandered and to that place I went once again
Well they lowered that mast in and it fit like a glove
As it then stood proudly warmed by the summer sun up above
I walked closer to once admire that once great tree
Something there on it caught my eye and I went closer to see
There on that mast faintly now did to me show
Those initials I had carved there what seemed like a long time ago
Tears filled my eyes and I started to softly cry
As I looked at that proud mast framed against the bright blue sky
Then I showed it to my dad as he stood proudly by my side
Knowing this majestic ship would carry my memories with pride
Well the ship was finally finished and ready to set sail
With all the sweat and hard work we knew she wouldn’t fail
Now all the trimmings were all in place making a beautiful sight
With pride, honor, toil and sweat we knew this ship was built right
As the ship would carry a special part of each of us
And that is why making everything perfect we did gladly fuss
Now we all stood and watched on that bright sunny day
As that majestic ship, with sails full of wind, finally sailed away
Watching that part of me disappear over the horizon of the sea
As I will always be proud of that ship that sailed off to sea with a part of me

© Tall Mountain Dreamer February 17, 2001

Sign My Guestbook View My Guestbook

***** Visit My Other Pages *****

*** Pictures Telling A Story ***
*** Scenes From Around My Home ***
*** Love Poems ***
*** Fantasies,Myths&Dreams ***
*** Spirits From Within ***
*** Moonlight Serenade ***
*** Seasons Of The Year ***
*** Let's Not Forget ***
*** They Paid,We Should Remember ***
*** Thanks To Armed Forces ***
*** Military Poems ***
*** Military Memories ***
*** A Battered Soul ***
*** Beating The Odds Against Me ***
*** Home For The Holidays ***
*** My Merry Christmas ***
*** Proud To Be An American ***
*** Chat With Us ***
*** A Nations Pain ***

Email: just_take_my_heart@yahoo.com