sweet September memories.
Looping across Cherohala skyway
in Daddy's old black Ford.
A magical time,
my parents and I
taking a joy ride
on Sunday afternoon.
Work can wait
on the farm,
time with family
can not wait.
I look down
on the rideline
burning like hickory
sticks in the fireplace.
We stop at the overpass,
eat a moonpie and RC Cola,
a whippoorwill whistles
and the cool breeze
brushes my face.
Daddy and Mama smile,
I feel their unconditional love:
work can wait!
--Brenda Kay Ledford
front row: little Brenda and brother, Harold.
13 comments:
Hi Brenda,
I enjoyed your poem, and the photo is beautiful. A ride on the Cherohala Skyway is the loveliest in fall.
Have a great week!
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh, loved this. I remember Sunday Drives. For the child in me, the last of the trip was always an ice cream cone. I looked forward to that.
I can picture your September drive...very well written. So picturesque your words are today.
Lovely poem and photos, Brenda. Such a great family photo--what a treasure. I could easily imagine that fun ride and seeing the beautiful colors.
Such a touching and sweet memory with your poem and photo! Have a wonderful weekend!
sounds wonderful. :)
I so enjoyed reading this. What a sweet memory put into a poem and I love the photo!
Beautiful picture and poem! Lovely memories of Fall in the Smoky Mountains! I feel those mountains calling me every Fall. There is no other place on God's green earth that I had rather be than in the Smokies!
What sweet memories Brenda. I enjoyed this so much.. It touched my heart and brings back lots of memories for me.
Daisy,
I enjoy reading your poetry very much. You are a great poet and I appreciate your visiting my blog.
You've reminded me of Sunday afternoon rides we used to take with our grandfather. Happy times and such good memories. Thank you for the memory. Lovely poem!
Hi Brenda,
Very nice poem and photos. Thanks!
The mountains are beautiful all year long, but in fall when the leaves turn they almost take my breath away. I love to ride and look at the scenery as you said in the poem. The picture of your family and the colors in the other photos make this a special post. My husbands' family lived in North West Georgia and when we went to visit them, we always went for a ride on Sunday afternoons. I wonder how many people do that today.
Oh, Brenda. This lovely poem brings back such wonderful childhood memories when we would drive through the mountains, stopping at a gas station for a moon pie and a coke.
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