Thursday, October 4, 2012

Walk Slowly and Wait for Me

I heard my mother say that dreadful day,

When in 1805 my father was taken away.

As we stood on the frozen Georgia ground,

I hear her say, “Walk slowly and wait for me”

it was a tearful sound,

“For I know.” she said---“My Darling you are

Heaven bound.”

An Indian raid upon our land took my father away--- a very

kind and loving man,

Together the family stood around the snow covered grave

to hear the bagpipes sound---for his Scottish Clan.

The bagpipe music is the saddest sound on this earth,

It bounces off one’s heart--- to give the soul a rebirth.

My mother tears were non-stopable that day,

When destiny marched on this icy Georgia ground---

 to make this his eternal bed--- because death

took my dad away.

No more hugs, smiles or sweet looks from his blue eyes,

No more---“Daughter, I have a big surprise.”

His Texas Leopard dog, “King” did not leave his grave,

He grieved for his master who was so brave.

My life will forever be changed, no father---

no more,

On our happiness--- fate has shut the door.

I will be compassionate for my mother,

And she will need me and my brother.

I will forever hear her say,” Walk slowly and wait for me.”

I will follow behind you my darling, you will see.”

© BEPH  2012  All Rights Reserved

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this poem and if it is seen anywhere else on
the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.

Do You Really Love Him? : Click the Link below for More Poems

Sunday, March 11, 2012

When Azaleas Bloomed


When the Azaleas bloom along the river bank

of Twilight River, my memories flow swiftly

inundating my attention,

All his sweet passionate kisses get honorable mention.

Young love bloomed as the Azaleas did there in those

wondrous times wavering softly with the sweet

Southern breeze,

We walked along the grassy river bank holding hands, while

he kissed each finger with those wonderful lips----

with such ease.

A young heart knows when it is loved with all a young lover

is capable of giving,

We knew this was a special time for us---and not truly living.

It was our place to share with no one else—as if God

made this beautiful homage for pure and

precious love,

Because then all his birds sang joyous tunes, even a mourning dove.

Shadows and light dance upon the coolness of the grass----as

the evening sunlight sieved and blinked through the Old Oak


When we reached our picnic spot, he fell upon one knee.

It was then and there I heard the Angels sing,

My Darling Sweetheart gave me a ruby ring.

But our love would never be,

as my parents said he was too old for me.

I cried and pleaded to no avail, ----the verdict

was sealed,

My friends and relatives think even now---my pain is healed.

It is silent today, and the brightly colored Azaleas

which once bloomed, are dead,

Their lifeless bushes are withered and strewn

beside the river bed.

The once raving river flows gently as I walked

alone with a heavy heart---- upon our special  

path and place of long ago,

I feel the pain afresh---when my parents said, “No.”

No birds sang their song to me, not one dove did I see,

Forever, my love will exist as each drop of blood streams

through my heart; I know my heart will never be free.

Because my precious Darling was the only man for me.

© BEPH  2012

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this poem and if it is seen anywhere else on
the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.

Do You Really Love Him? : Click the Link below for More Poems                   

Saturday, March 10, 2012

I Danced with the Spirits from Eons Ago

As walked down a familiar country road,

My heart felt as if it carried a heavy load.

No love in sight for only me,

My heart was sadly free.

It was twilight, and the lightning bugs were

flittering in the shadows---

the time young lovers would secretly meet,

And in yonder field I could see some people dancing,

And there were others who had stopped to greet.

It was an unbelievable sight,

And if I am honest it was a fright,

To see soldiers dressed in blue and grey, as they

danced the waltz of the Grand March Medley---

as North and South intertwined,

The ladies long gowns made of silk, and Chantilly Lace

flowed and swayed with the music, and as I looked

down, I wore a gown and it was---so fine.

A soldier in blue bowed and took my hand, we swirled,

and danced,

Then he bowed and I curtseyed, then off he pranced.

Then came a soldier in grey, 

He walked my way,

He bowed then took my hand and we floated in the

moonlight as we danced to the Soldier's Joy Medley,

It was the waltz of young lovers he said, and we danced

as the fiddlers played, at the end--- he said my name

is Edley.

A very tall, thin man dressed in brown,

Filled a cup from the punch bowl, and then turned


And gave it to a short lady--- he called, “Mother” and the

man was honest Abe,

He seemed sweet and kind, and his face was drawn in

worry, so he appeared plain, this did not matter, that

he was not a babe.

But he was my favorite President of our USA,                     

And as I was still dancing and wondering if all

this was true, but my brain said “No-Way.”

Had I suffered a stroke, was I without hope?

The soldier read my mind and shook his head “Nope.”

Then a carriage appeared pulled by two black horses

all shiny and clean,

And a most handsome man got out—so tall and lean.

His blue eyes glowed in the shadows, and he had a mustache,

that part was clear,

He smiled and his dimples were deep concaves and he said

ever so softly “Scarlett, are you ready my Dear”?

His full lips so close to mine,---- so sinfully near.

I look down at my gown of Irish green---- so much material

and it made me ponder how I would get----- in the carriage,

His strong arms surrounded me, and as he lifted me gown

and all---- he whispered, “Tomorrow, there will be a marriage.”

A nurse in white—tried to shake me awake—she said--it is

time for your meds-- and I replied,

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

Why don’t you leave now—before my dream is over---

just please scram.

© BEPH 2011        

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this poem and if it is seen anywhere else on
the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.

Do You Really Love Him? : Click the Link below for More Poems