The River

The River

ALAS, the day has awoken agian,
to bring the farmer to the barn,
the sun beats through the windows,
and rises slowly above the farm.

Out walks the sleepy farmer,
His flannel to small and ripped,
he glares and the rooster who crows nonstop.
and steps into a cool puddle where the water dripped.

The smell of the hayfields whips through the fields,
and makes the farmer stop,
the rain had come again last night,
which made the farmers head drop.

The farmer grabbed a bucket,
and filled it with slop,
he fed the pigs,
and watched them oink loudly without a stop.

IN ANOTHER STATE, the day has awoken agian,
to bustiling cars and buisness men,
a woman stands tall...stretching her arms,
the noise makes her remeber the glen.

The crickets chirping in the night,
hummining there soft little tune,
the cows, the pigs, the river,
and the wonderful harvest moon.

She remebered those Indiana nights,
filled with backporch sitting and dinners,
then she remebered her dad probably feeding the pigs,
and watching the black widow spinners.

Cincinatti of course, was a nice city,
where the Reds play, and the Bengals win,
but she could never forget, never forget,
those hay rides and the ol' stinky pig pen.

That farm was so charming and the river so vast,
she looked at it out her apartment french doors,
but there was something different about it here,
when there were so many semi roars.

BACK IN INDIANA, the telephone rang,
the poor farmer lept to his feet.
glaring out at the river through the window,
he made his old voice speek.

"Hello," he grumbled still looking at the river,
shimmering in the new morinings light,
"Daddy," said a familiar voice,
"Im coming back home tonight,"

The farmer ran his free hand,
through his tossled gray hair,
"Sweetheart are you sure,"
"Yes daddy Im on my way there."

The farmer hung up,
and wooped so happily,
since the farmer's wife had died,
he didnt see much of family.

THAT NIGHT there was a rap on the door,
the farmer shuffled across the room,
he opened the door to see a young woman,
who hugged him with a wift of perfume.

"OH DADDY,"
she cried,
the farmer was lost for words,
and teary eyed.

"What made you come back,"
he said with a soft demand,
the woman pointed out,
at the river with a shaking hand.

"I remebered the day, you and mom told me,"
the woman said with a shiver,
"that whenever I needed you just look out
and just follow the river."

The father looked out at the blue blanket of water,
and remebered that clear summer day in may,
that he had a picinic down by the river,
with a woman he knew he would marry someday.

So many memories lay down on that sand,
and told his daughter to come home tonight,
and as he looked into the womans brown eyes,
he beckoned her out into the moonlight.

Father and daughter walked hand in hand,
across the dew covered grass,
they walked down to the beach sat down on the rocks,
and he knew she was home...for good...at last

The river slowly churned,
its waters were a map,
to lead a person back to a home,
to remeber a loving past