|
Bluegrass
by James ZealyThe grass was blue
A Blue green Hue
Pristine mothers birth Place
Antebellum relic of memories
Reminiscent of the south's old song
Sung to the tune of small towns
Thoroughbred dreams
Long and lean
Baseball teams of one
Hit the long ball
With a stick and a rock
Against tobacco barn backstop
Railroad walks
Echo into forever
Resonate to a child's thrill
Of fleeting thoughts
Blackberries and summer fairs
Big memories consisting of small events
Cast a grandiose image
That reality can not replace
A hero for a moment (in my mind)
As I played on this field of no fences
In a place that time has forgotten
Cowboy fantasy envisioned
Relived from its distant past 01/14/2008 Author's Note: Revision of The Grass Was Blue. Based on my mothers birthplace of Carlisle, Kentucky.
Posted on 01/14/2008
Copyright © 2025 James Zealy
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 01/15/08 at 08:11 AM This is lovely, James. If I remember correctly, I liked it the first time around, too. But this time, there is a simple eloquence blushing through every verse, and I love it!!!! Nice work, Mr. Zealy!!! |
|
