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Could this be you?
A Lonely old house
Rolling in Eighteen Wheel heaven
Gorff Family History
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*** poetry at Longstreath's House of Genealogy

Could this be you?

by Frank Gorff

I stood alone at break of morn and watched a new day being born.

the darkness fled before the light as day began to chase the night

The sun came up, to shed it's glow on all the drowsy world below

I raised my eyes to God above to thank him for his boundless love

His blessing of another day, then carelessly turned to go my way

But, as I proceeded on my way, suddenly darkness hid the day

angry birds of prey flew round ,fearful thunder shook the ground

A terrible rain began to fall and every drop was bitter gall

The earth stretched bare on every side

I looked in vain for a place to hide

The screaming hawks flew round my head

The thunder filled my heart with dread

The bitter rain in torrents fell

the lightning showed the mouth of hell

I stood aghast at all this woe and sought again some place to go

I tried to raise my eyes to pray

but the lightning made me turn away

I cried "O God, what means this sight when day is suddenly turned to night,

Why do these angry birds fly round and poison rain pollute the ground?"

As I thought I must surely die
I heard a voice speak from on high

"Consider well these things, my son; each bird is an evil deed you've done,

Each bitter drop you see descend

Is an unkind word against a friend

The firey bolts that make you blind

are all the hate that fouls your mind

The fearful thunder at which you groan

is all the envy your heart has known

These angry clouds that hide the sun are deeds of kindness left undone

The fear that fills your heart with dread

is words of kindness, left unsaid."

I cast about in vain to find redeeming words to clear my mind

"O God, I cried, "how can this be? Have I not been a friend to thee?

Have I not tried thy Word to heed? Have I not helped the ones in need?"

All these words and more I cried, to try and push my guilt aside

I looked about, in hope to hear his voice again, to give me cheer

But the storm still raged, the birds flew round

and monstrous hailstones struck the ground

I dashed about, I fled in vain

My mind and soul were crazed with pain

then I considered the words of truth

I remembered again my wasted youth

I thought of all the deeds I'd done

Things left unfinished that I'd begun

Of all the prayers that I hadn't prayed and every mistake that I ever made

As I thought of all I'd meant to do

I knew these words I'd heard were true

I'd fallen short in every test, always failing to do my best

There was no good in me, I found

So, trembling, I bowed down to the ground

I cried "Oh God, please here my plea,

have mercy upon the sinner, me."

Then suddenly my soul knew peace

The fearful lightning and thunder ceased

The rain, the screaming birds were gone

The clouds no longer hid the dawn

In the vast stillness then, I heard the voice of a tiny singing bird

And beneath it's song, so bold and free

a still, small voice then spoke to me

The words that filled my soul were these

"Arise, my son, depart in peace!"

Then I arose, and with beaming face

I praised God for his wondrous grace

I thanked him for his loving care

that he had seen fit my life to spare

That he had blessed me, heart and soul

and gave his Son to make me whole

So now, as I travel along my way

I pray his guidance, throughout each day

and everyprayer includes this plea

"God have mercy on the sinner me!"



The House with a Past
A Lonely Old House

I passed an old house in the country one day. it was ancient, deserted and bare, And I couldn't help thinking as I crossed the yard about the people who used to live there.
Were they haughty and rude, or cheerful and gay? And did they let God be their guide? Was there trouble and strife as they traveled thru life, or was there love and laughter inside?
As I walked along, I passed thru the midst of places where flowers still grew. The daffodils nodded, the hyacinths smelled sweet and tulips were growing there too.
The yard was all choked with the waving remains of last years weeds dry and old. At the side of the house mid a tangle of brush, a forsythia bloomed bright as gold. The cheery red blossoms of quince in bloom seemed to smile a greeting at me.
At the side of the yard in a most honored place stood a beautiful old dogwood tree. it was twisted and bent, just starting to bloom, its limbs were spread low and wide.
And I knew that in summer their leaves formed a cave where happy young children could hide.
I stood there and looked and thought of the hands that had worked with such loving care, the time that was spent to carefully place each bush and each flower bulb there.
I looked up again at the sagging old roof, the walls where the paint was all gone. And I wondered again where the people had moved and left this old house here alone.
Do houses have hearts? Do houses have souls? Can houses feel joy or despair?
Are they lonely or sad or gay in reponse to the moods of the ones who live there? Do they worry at night as they wait the return of a son or a daughter out late? Do they weep with despair when anger is shown or tremble in fear when there's hate? Do they chuckle with glee at the sight and the sound of happy young childten at play? Or stand still and reverent, their hearts filled with love when the family kneels down to pray?
You may think that a house that's no longer in use is just something else that's worn out. Just a pile of old bricks and lumber and nails and nothing worth talking about.
But to me the sight of an old empty house left standing alone to decay, is almost enough to bring tears to my eyes and I wonder why folks let it stay.
Just like an old mother whose children have gone, they stand there alone and they yearn, for the loved ones whose voices once gave them such joy, not knowing they'll never return.
These thoughts filled my mind as I looked at that house there, next to a spreading oak tree. And as I turned to go it seemed that I heard a sweet voice call gently to me; "please! Won't you come in and visit awhile? I've been lonely for many a day. Come sit down and rest for the day has been long, there's no need to hurry away!"
I stopped short. Then turned and walked up the path wondering just what I had heard. Was my mind playing tricks or was it the wind that seemed to speak those sweet words? I slowly approached and the closer I came, the greater the urge was to see, just what was inside ot who it was there that wanted a visit from me.
I walked up the steps, and the rotting old porch groaned and creaked neath my weight. I could see that the floors, the ceilings and walls were indeed in a pitiful state. The ceilings were falling, the windows were gone, the walls no longer stood true. Some shingles were gone from the sagging old roof and the afternoown sunlight shone through.
As I walked thru the door I felt such a glow of love, and welcome and cheer that I almost called out, half expecting to see a kindly smiling face appear.
All through the house I walked and I searched. I called out, but no one was there. The only things left were a musty old couch, a stool and and old rocking chair. The couch was all ragged, its springs were exposed, but the rocker seemed tidy and neat. And I felt there was someone suggesting to me, "come on over and please have a seat." So I examined the chair, and then I sat down and propped up my feet on the stool. the sunlight was painting a smudge on the wall. The spring breeze blew soft and cool.
Did I sit there a moment, or an hour or more. I probably never will know. My body was weary, I'd walked far that day and my eyelids began drooping low.
it seemed but a moment when my mind leaped alert. I thought that I'd heard a shout!
My eyelids flew open, I jumped to my feet and in great surprise looked about.
I stared round the room which a moment before had been forsaken and bare.
The walls sparkled bright, the ceilings shone white. The bare windows now had panes there.
There were dozens of people, some young and some old, a couple just recently wed.
This fact was made clear by the beautiful veil the bride wore on her head.
She saw me and smiled, then held out her hand, her voice was mellow and clear.
"What a lovely surprise! Come meet all the folks, We're happy to have you here."
Her smiling young husband seemed nervous and shy. her father looked rugged and kind. Her mother was beautiful, calm and serene. Her face was clear and unlined.
I met all the kinfolks, the uncles and aunts, neighbors and friends by the score, Several dozens of cousins and such. And I can't tell you how many more.
"Come see our new house", she said to me then, "we're just as proud as can be. My father has built it, he gave it to us, for a wedding present you see."
they showed me around thru all of the rooms where I had just recently gone.
but now what a difference! Each place I looked the sparkle of newness shone!
They both babbled gaily as we walked thru the house. They couldn't conceal their pride. They talked of the shrubs and flowers they'd plant in the big rambeling yard outside.
The young man and I then strolled to the yard. he said that he wished me to see ; all the things that they planned to do to the grounds, and where all the flowers would be.
As we started outside, the scene seemed to change. all the crowds of people were gone. And I heard the cry of a newborn child pierce the brighteming dawn.
Then things became hazy, uncertain and blurred as time seemed to scurry past me.
For instead of there being a baby just born, there were children , now two, then three. Then children were everywhere, laughing and gay, and doing the things children do.
There were more weddings and then came the time when the husbands's life was through.
the scene changed again, the house was now old and yet was well kept and neat. Her body was feeble, her hair was like snow. The flower of youth had long gone. She said , "I get lonely since the children all left and I'm living here all alone. But life has been wonderful! I have no regrets, so don't you feel sorry for me. If I could , I would go back and live it again, but now heaven's waiting you see."
She talked on and on as I sat and rocked in the sturdy old rocking chair.
The flickering rays of the westering sun formed a halo in her lovely gray hair.
Then with a start of surprise I jumped to my feet, The sun and the daylight had gone.
The chill evening breeze was rattling the trees and I was completly alone.
I stared all around, at a loss to explain, the things I had recently seen. There was nothing but darkness, ruin and decay, where light and laughter had been.
I carefully threaded my way to the door, the rising moon showed me the way. As I passed through the door mid the rustling breeze, I seemed to hear the sweet voice say:
"So happy you came! you really don't know how much I've enjoyed your stay! I know you must leave, but won't you please try to come back again some day?"
With tears in my eyes, I looked at the house all shrouded in loneliness there. and I answered aloud "Yes I'll come again, for I know you need someone to care."
But in the hurry and bother of everyday life, it seemed there was no time to spare. A year had gone by before I had time to pay another visit there.
As I came to the yard, I felt a great loss, Something was gone from the scene. For now there was nothing but ashes and stone where the old house had been.
The stately old oak was splintered and torn, its broken limbs lay on the ground.
and I knew it was lightning that shattered this tree and also burned the house down.
A pall of deep sadness then flooded my soul, as if I'd lost a friend very dear. But then the sweeet voice I remembered so well, whispered lovingly in my ear;
"Don't sorrow, don't fret! Shed no tears for me. My longing has ended at last. For now I have gone to be with the ones who lived with me there in the past. We remember your kindness, your heartfelt concern. So as you travel on never fear. Just trust in the Lord and when your life ends, we will all gladly welcome you here."
Slowly I nodded, then looked toward the sky, thinking of the place where they'd gone., cherishing the promise that we'll meet again whem I reach eternity's dawn. I stopped there and picked a hyacinth so sweet and looked at the old dogwood tree, Knowing I'd always remember the day that a lonely old house spoke to me.



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Rolling in Eighteen Wheel Heaven

by Frank William Gorff

You can have your jobs in factories, the forrest or the mines. You can program your computers and I think that's just fine. You can sing or teach or dig a well or bake the world it's bread.
but give me eighteen big wheels rolling with an open road ahead.
Roll along! Travelling through this land!
Roll along! Our nation is so grand.
I can do all kinds of work, but I'd rather have instead, those eighteen big wheels rolling with an open road ahead.
From the ridges of the Smokies to the Rockies ragged crown, I've travelled through this country , made friends in every town.
From the lakes of Minnesota to Miami's pearly sand, with eighteen big wheels rolling, I'm known through this land.
Roll along! Hear that engine sing!
Roll along! I'm happy as a king.
From the St. Johns to the Cimarron Gap, on to the Rio Grande, I'll keep my big wheels rolling down the highways of this land. I met an old truck driver at a country store one time. He said he'd like to take a look at these big wheels of mine.
He looked my semi over, then smiled at me and said; " I love those big wheels rolling with an open road ahead.
Roll along! I've hauled many a load.
Roll along! On every kind of road.
He said I hope that when I get to Heaven's golden shore, they'll let me drive a semi and haul forever more!"

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Email: buclau@gulftel.com