WALKING IN THE STEPS OF MY ANCESTORS
Looking out over the hills and valleys,
and to walk in the steps of my ancestors.
The joy of hearing an ol' 'coon dog tree a squirrel,
remembered in the here and after.
Oh, the joy of momentous cry,
the triumph of the skilled.
Joyful as the years go by in my Missouri ancestors fields.
Singing for good on Sunday morn'
my Grandmother's voice could be heard.
Rejoicing always for the good
through the twists and turns of this world.
While the hills and valleys of these woods
continued all the while.
The patter of feet in the old white house, wind blowing through,
children gathering in the room
while large snowflakes flew.
Covered in white, Oh so bright,
the southern Missouri hills.
Joyful as the years go by in my Missouri ancestors fields.
A righteous song could be heard
rising through the throng,
past the hills and past the woods
up to the Righteous throne.
Rejoice, rejoice, my Missouri ancestors cry.
Though tough times came,
they remained
until their by and by.
Oh, the joy of momentous cry the triumph of the skilled.
Joyful as the years go by in my Missouri ancestors fields.
May the Righteous of our past contain
the steps for you to hear,
the strength it takes for us to go through
when our time gets near.
The gates, those pearly white gates,
of heaven, Oh so true.
Joyful as the years go by in my Missouri ancestors fields.
© 2019 Laveda D. Rockford
Dallas, Texas USA
I'm visiting my family and this poem came to me while I was looking out over the landscape thinking of times of old.
I hope you enjoyed it . God bless you and have a nice day.
and to walk in the steps of my ancestors.
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| The Southern Missouri Fields of My Ancestors |
The joy of hearing an ol' 'coon dog tree a squirrel,
remembered in the here and after.
Oh, the joy of momentous cry,
the triumph of the skilled.
Joyful as the years go by in my Missouri ancestors fields.
Singing for good on Sunday morn'
my Grandmother's voice could be heard.
Rejoicing always for the good
through the twists and turns of this world.
While the hills and valleys of these woods
continued all the while.
The patter of feet in the old white house, wind blowing through,
children gathering in the room
while large snowflakes flew.
Covered in white, Oh so bright,
the southern Missouri hills.
Joyful as the years go by in my Missouri ancestors fields.
A righteous song could be heard
rising through the throng,
past the hills and past the woods
up to the Righteous throne.
Rejoice, rejoice, my Missouri ancestors cry.
Though tough times came,
they remained
until their by and by.
Oh, the joy of momentous cry the triumph of the skilled.
Joyful as the years go by in my Missouri ancestors fields.
May the Righteous of our past contain
the steps for you to hear,
the strength it takes for us to go through
when our time gets near.
The gates, those pearly white gates,
of heaven, Oh so true.
Joyful as the years go by in my Missouri ancestors fields.
© 2019 Laveda D. Rockford
Dallas, Texas USA
I'm visiting my family and this poem came to me while I was looking out over the landscape thinking of times of old.
I hope you enjoyed it . God bless you and have a nice day.
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