Down by the banks of the Ohio,
Watching the silt rich waters flow,
It's surface sepia-toned ripples move,
In a soulful vibe with naught to prove,
Traveling to Ol' Miss forevermore,
Guided by the muddy Ohio shore.
Down by the banks of the Ohio,
The iridescent flash of Damsels show,
As each from point to another darts,
Living their lives in jumps and starts,
They mingle with the honey bees,
Visiting flowering weeds and trees.
Down by the banks of the Ohio,
The sycamore and dogwood grow,
Shade and blooms together fine,
In clusters cling the wild grapevine,
Sweet scents mix with musty smells,
Nature's cycle of life prevails.
Down by the banks of the Ohio,
I met my wife many years ago,
Shared our first kiss and fell in love,
Where we made vows before God above,
Where our two kids did laugh and play,
Pinch pots made from Ohio's clay.
Down by the banks of the Ohio,
Whenever it comes my time to go,
Bury me close to its water's flow,
While it reflects the sunset's glow,
Then I will happily forever know,
Grace by the banks of the Ohio.
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