Mama’s Walking Stick
Where wild abounds and nature calls / a trail winds through a gentle wood, / along a stream then to small falls, / where she met him, and love was good.
Where wild abounds and nature calls / a trail winds through a gentle wood, / along a stream then to small falls, / where she met him, and love was good.
Soft, soothing hands would rock a crying son To sleep; would clap and cheer when he would run; Then work …
I cried a river of your tears and loved every thorn prick away; held you from a distance, and when …
When night descends and chill is in the air I see the lighted windows from the train that takes me …
I enjoy quiet moments in the forest where I can escape into flights of fancy. But oh how I …