Thursday, February 21, 2013

A Rope Belt


 

He walked the long dirt road zigzagging around the pines and Oak trees

he walked everyday---alone,

He was a young dad working in the saw mills---getting little in pay to bring home.

 

His shirt collar wet with sweat showed a wide ring of embedded dirt,

He dragged his left foot that always hurt.

 

From a previous accident---saw milling in the Everglades,

His foot was caught between two saw blades.

 

It took months to heal,

But he was still paid---which was unreal.

 

The Saw Boss was mean but fair,

With most others---he showed no care.

 

His body seemed older than his 30 years,

It hurt so badly at times---it almost brought tears.

 

But a Dad he was---a single parent to boot,

His dead wife’s people never gave a hoot.

 

So he took care of his little boy unaided,

With the help of his mother whose hair was now faded.

 

Every Sunday to church they walked,

While little Tomas just talked and talked.

 

Tomas was now three years old---and very bright,

He asked his Dad---Why Dad—do you always work until night?

 

His father said--- Son---I pray you never will,

Get your schooling and live high on the hill.

 

Tomas watched his dad leave early before light,

With his pants held up by an old rope pulled tight.

 

The picture of his dad walking through the morning darkness in the dew,

Stayed in his heart forever---he knew a dad like his---was very few.

 

As time passed Tomas left for a higher education,

But the war was coming---he might fight for this great nation.

 

His Dad waved bye at the train station---with his eyes full,

His son was now a man---a tear ran free---and Tomas took no bull.

 

He was tired and weary as he walked back home,

For truly now he was all alone.

 

But his presents on earth will always be felt,

Years later Tomas by his Dad’s graves knelt.

 

Around the flowers on the coffin was place with great love,

An old dirty rope---attached with a note--- For You Dad in the Above.

 

© BEPH  2013 All Rights Reserved

 

 Poems of Love, Life and Laughter

 
Do You Really Love Him?

 

 

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Great-Great Grandmother's Grave


I visit it as often as I can in the spring time when the sweet wild flowers blooms and the Hummingbirds buzzed from one sweet bloom to another.

Stories told from family members through the years tell about how brave she was as a tall thin woman who--- more than one time used a whip on men that mistreated their families. She would not tolerate any woman, children or older folks being mistreated.

And if her whip was not enough she had eight (8) big boys who cherished their Mama and would take care of anyone she felt was being cruel to their family.

So the community around the little village where she dwelled with her family became a wonderful place to bring up children who were cherished, loved and well taken care of by both parents.

I found a letter once from a member of her church---the letter was so old and faded and I could barely read it. The best I could make out it said---I want to thank you for making my life into what I always hoped it would be with a loving husband who was kind and loved his family.

My husband said he did not know how to be what I wanted from him until your boys showed him and talked to him after they got his attention with their fist.

My family thanks you and that includes my husband. Bless you for caring about the women of this village.

I folded the letter and put it back into the old family trunk in the attic. I always thought of this attic as a door to another time since all I found in it came from another time.
wild flowers, spring time,
I wished we had a time machine so I could go back in time and visit her and let her know that she meant so much to so many and her family members and descendants are so proud of her.


© BEPH  2013 All Rights Reserved