Wood popping in the fireplace.
Eating homegrown food at dinner and saying grace.
Baking bread on the old wood stove.
Picking peaches from the grove.
Taking baths in the old washtub.
Heading to the creek for a scub.
Working hard from dawn to dusk.
Going to church on Sunday was a must.

A great beauty has passed from this life.
Of good times and sometimes toil and strife.
Some will say that she went to a better place.
Look at the blue sky or white clouds, you will still see her face.

Movements like a gazelle in flight.
Hair that shone like gold on a moolit night.
Eyes that could touch your soul.
And essence like that of a red rose.

Farrah, you fought hard to stay here on earth with us.
But when God calls you, go you must.
Whenever we feel a summer breeze or April rain.
It will seem like you are near.
And in our hearts, your memory will always remain dear.

I left home for the war.
When I was just eighteen.
I went to Vietnam a person so good and clean.
I came back home all broken spirited and mean.

All through the war I kept thinking.
If I could just get back home.
Everything gonna be alright.

As I tramped through the fields.
Bodies of my buddies maimed and killed.
I kept thinking if I could just get back home.
Everything gonna be alright.

They shipped me home on a Monday.
They gave me a Purple Heart.
I lost one leg and my mind is bad.
People look at me with faces so sad.

But I'm home now Lord.
And everything is alright.
But I'm home now Lord.
And everything is alright.

It's twilight.
The sun escorts the moon to the night.
The sun sleeps, the wind howls.
My sweetheart smiles.

Autumn chill,
Sweetheart's warm feel,
Sultry looks,
Heart be still.

The night wind sings a song of love.
It carries the spirits of sweethearts.
To the heavens above.

The night wind blows sweet romance.
Upon its breezes.
The souls of lovers dance.

The night wind blows very cool.
Tonight, love and romance rule.

White clouds,
Morning breeze,
Ripples in the pond,
Dancing trees.

Tall grass blowing.
Our love growing.
Sunlight shimmering.
Sweet love simmering.

Brooke slips quietly into the night.
Looking for a little peace.
In pink shawl, she looks so small.
While the moon and night creatures call.

Brooke bends her ear to the wind.
And she lets all of the night sounds flow in.
In this moment, she is one with the night.
And her soul floats lightly like a kite.