"A Country Sermon"A Poem by TommyCowboy PoetryI've been ta' church a few times here n' ther'; all gussied up ina white shirt n' tie, my Sunday's best like yer' supposed ta' wear, dressed myself, th' same as when someone dies. Preacher talkin' bout us fearin' Jesus, n'fire n' damnation for our lost souls, like he thinks he's th' one gona save us; wonder if he washes his pard's sore soles? I don' know, seems like God humbles me best when I'm with my family holdin' sermons up in th' mountins, that's where my thoughts rest; it's nature's hymn sings my heart determined. High prairie songs played by th' flowin' brooks neath th' leaves blown by th' breeze as Heaven speaks through His soft words read from th' Good Book; like ta' just catch my breath on day seven. Campfire waitin' for us when we get back, some homemade chili ta' break our bread with, prayers said neath th' stars; puts me back on track seein' grace shaped by th' hands of time's Smith. Still go ta' man's house built for prayin' in, n' brave th' priest talkin' bout salvation, so as ta' learn all th' evils of sin, but not so much ta' find restoration, cause it's th' meadows full of wild flowers tucked inside th' lonesomeness of those hills that sooths my weary bones through His powers; seems up ther' nature makes a man stand still.
2011 © T.G. Hopkins III
© 2011 TommyAuthor's Note
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Added on March 18, 2011Last Updated on September 8, 2011 Author
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