A poem I wrote: JW’s Tale (my Dad) A Friday night dance, in the Claydon hall. It had been a pleasant, mild fall. A storm blew in but it would pass, The early blizzards, never last. It was lightly snowing when he left town. But a short while out it turned around. A squall so thick, he could not see. Where he should and should not be. To turn around it might be best. But he could not tell east from west. He would not find, his way home. But could she do it, on her own. The temperature fell and it got cold. It seemed to drop a hundred fold. “We need protection, from this storm. Girl, the barn is safe and warm”. He dropped the reins and let her go. Time would tell if she did know. He felt her shake and heard her sigh. He almost thought, he heard “good bye”. She began to move a steady pace. The wind so foul it slashed her face. He laid his head down in her mane. Said “we’ve traveled this path, let’s do it again.” It seemed as though it had been too long. He had no idea how far they’d gone. Had she known, which way to head? If not by morning, they would both be dead. He battled hard to stay awake. For sleep would be his last mistake. He lifted his head but, saw no light. As they struggled through, the black and white! On and on and then she stopped. And then her head she quickly dropped. He touched the rein, to move her on. But she refused, her strength was gone. “Girl it’s alright, you’ve done your best There is no doubt, it’s time to rest”. He thought of mom and then of dad, And how his brother, would be sad! As he swung down, he bumped a rail. And thought,---- this will make for quite a tale. Then through storm, he found the gate. “Said in the barn, it’s getting late”. rgn
Posted on: Mon, 02 Dec 2013 03:39:10 +0000