Sunday, January 6, 2008

Sheep Herding

Grandpa wrote a few poems during some of his long, lonely hours out herding sheep. This was before he married my grandma, and he obviously missed her.

Wishing

Sitting here all alone, Day by Day
Looking into the valley and feeling unaware
Trying to drive my blues away
And wishing I were there.

The Pine trees are swaying - low
That wind is a bear
And "OH", how that snow does blow
And I'm telling you, that I wish I were there.

Yes, the coyote yells and moans
But when I hear the cat or cougar
I know I am in hell and
Wishing I were home.

Your grass will soon be growing
Your ground will soon be bare
But I hope my wish will soon come true
And someday, finding myself there.

Composed by
Russel G. Wilson
Evening of March 8, 1932

_____________________________

Lonely

Lonely, and feeling mighty blue
Lonely, for the sight of seeing you
Short and true, dear friend
But my thoughts of you will never end

"me"


2 comments:

average american said...

I was always so terrified of grandpa. I never new he had a softer side. These are beautiful.

Sparverius said...

I thought so too. They show a side of grandpa that we never knew. That's what I have found so wonderful about doing this.