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My Canoochee
by Barry Clopton Lanier (Age: 53)
copyright 10-07-2002


Age Rating: 16 to 127

 
It winds and it weaves.
Under the cool summer leaves.
And the dew drops fall gently.
Yet timidly yielding their wake.

Rustic bark, oh gentle live oak.
Take the vines in your arms.
Making natures own cloak.

While the hot noon day sun in August does shine.
The river yields not, and neither Father Time.
Tho I can't see very far out, from bamboo yielding high.
Streaks of blue glitter thru.
Somewhere out there, echoes a sky.

Where the creeks overflowed, and sketched out their veins.
Soltitude and holy silence, eases my pain.
How the blades of brown swamp grass.
Mingle as they stir.
This home, my home, oh how I love her.

Natures symphony abounds all about and within.
My spirit flows freely, from a heart that still sins.
In prayer for a heart, and soul that still grieves.
Oh sweet forgiveness, show me the leaves.

God in his knowledge, and grace out of pain.
Chose some to fall to their grave.
Yet some to remain.

Oh hasten, give life, sweet river of mine.
As you gently and eternally flow.
To relieve all my burdens.
As God only knows.




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02-22-2006 Jennifer Campbell-Kletzli    

I love this poem! The descriptions that you used in this poem are amazing! I think that I'll go and read it again.
10-07-2002 William Robbins    

Only God knows, so true, so true. Another great inspirational work.
Visitor Reads: 397
Total Reads: 503
Comments: 2

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