Old Appalachia
I Miss the Old Appalachia
I yearn for those
mountain-hiking summers
and
creek-diving springs
That gave me
barb wired scratched legs
and
newt slimy hands
But gifted to me
lightning bug constellations
and
cicada-filled song
I pine for those
fruit-gathering days
and
pie-baking evenings
That caused
raspberry-stained fingers
and
strawberry-painted lips
But gifted to me
momma filled memories
and
grandma spun stories
I long for those
hill sliding winters
and
trick or treating falls
That brought about
snow-doused pine trees
and
pumpkin-laden fields
That gifted to me
Frosty white snowmen
and
jack-0-lantern grins
I wish for those
just for fun dancing mornings
and
guitar’ pickin’ afternoons
That caused
softly treaded toes
and
roughly calloused fingers
Yet gifted to me
father-daughter dances
and
grandpa composed melodies
Oh, how I miss the old Appalachia
I Miss the Old Appalachia
I yearn for those
mountain-hiking summers
and
creek-diving springs
That gave me
barb wired scratched legs
and
newt slimy hands
But gifted to me
lightning bug constellations
and
cicada-filled song
I pine for those
fruit-gathering days
and
pie-baking evenings
That caused
raspberry-stained fingers
and
strawberry-painted lips
But gifted to me
momma filled memories
and
grandma spun stories
I long for those
hill sliding winters
and
trick or treating falls
That brought about
snow-doused pine trees
and
pumpkin-laden fields
That gifted to me
Frosty white snowmen
and
jack-0-lantern grins
I wish for those
just for fun dancing mornings
and
guitar’ pickin’ afternoons
That caused
softly treaded toes
and
roughly calloused fingers
Yet gifted to me
father-daughter dances
and
grandpa composed melodies
Oh, how I miss the old Appalachia