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Feb 2015
~~~
Dappled grey horses
sweat crusted and weary
hooves drifting dust
lift a day
passing dreary
The harness bells faded
reigned in at the rill
a cool running brook
near the base of our hill
~
My eyes
I'm a lad
scant older than four
brought visions to mind
full of wonders in store
A wagon decked out
like a big city market
he lifted the side
then he shook out the carpet
~
Our old kitchen door
screamed out
lack of oil
a kettle
clanged gently
just set on to boil
E'er mother's voice shouted
"I think it's the Pox
the old folks have died
I've been digging their plots"
~
"My father's in bed
and they won't let me near"
the stranger walked by
with a smile
mussed my hair
Went in with a bag
full of magic he grows
started mixing a broth
made with god only knows
~
Tip toed on a box
dragged in from the yard
through windows
he folded
gunpowder with lard
The screams of my father
sent tears to my eyes
they rubbed him completely
in spite of his cries
~
They fed him the broth
a few drops at a time
I climbed off the box
with his horses in mind
"The horses love apples"
I turned with a whirl
peeking out from his wagon
the freckled face
of a girl
~
In moments I knew her
a lifetime
it seemed
a most likeable friend
who knew all the schemes
As father got better
t'was time to move on
her father
a doctor
a peddler
a con
~
He'd done us a service
we could never repay
though he sold us an *****
an' stool
by the way
Each year they returned
once or twice
they dropped by
little freckle faced Mary
soon
the girl of my eye
~
They'd rest a few days
with each visit
it's true
she wrote the best love songs
while I wrote the tunes
Then one night it happened
'neath moon and the stars
consummating a love
that would forever
be ours
~
He stumbled upon us
but said not a word
in the morning
so early
fading echoes we heard
Ne'er again did we see them
though rumors
of peril ...
my parents expired
to a place 'neath the barrow
~
Five years had surpassed
isolation and grief
knocked a lamp
from the table
when I'd fallen asleep
The house nearly cinder
an' I felt like the fool
only item I'd saved
was the old ***** stool
~
Just sat there and watched
till the sun broke the morn
in the distance
an echo
I'd heard years before
Then over the rise
sweat crusted and weary
two dappled grey horses
on a day
passing dreary
~
The horses reigned in
right next to the rill
that sweet running brook
at the base of our hill
A woman climbed down
took a step
to the glade
the dawning day's sun
streaming in to pervade
~
A light in my heart
jumped a thousand times fold
the smile in her eyes
and the story's been told
The tears
fell in rapture
though nothing was said
embraced
now with Mary
she'd returned from the dead
~
She unhitched the horses
I lifted the side
"The years have been kind"
I said
lifting her pride
"Are you my daddy?"
I turned with a whirl
peeking out from the wagon
the freckled face
of a girl
A true story about my great great Grand Parents
Rex Allen McCoy
Written by
Rex Allen McCoy  Canada
(Canada)   
527
   ---, Weeping willow and ---
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