When I survey
There seems lately precious little time
for just pausing and reflecting
Seems as soon as you settle down
Here comes that old male humming.
There seems lately precious little time
for just pausing and reflecting
Seems as soon as you settle down
Here comes that old male humming.
Today my brother called at a radio remote from Ocala and put an old high school friend on the line. Lewis asked me when was his birthday? I said December 25th. It was the 24th. He remembered mine on January 30th. Don’t think I could tell any other friends birthdays.
Though best friends, there came a day he went off to school in Sanford, then when he returned, a friend a grade up became his best friend, then the girl in the Trans Am and so to this day.
Ironical my girl today is in Williston at her mothers where we both grew up. So from afar I keep pace with my friend, a month older than ole forty.
Now if only we had Dixie Lily in common.
I came upon the old Ison’s catalog of my father and his order for the muscadine grapes:2-Dixie, 2-Noble, 2-Jumbo, 2-sugargate, 3-cowart, 1-pride, 1-chief, 1-southland. We set them out in Crawfordville in Wakulla County with railroad creosote posts and wires at three levels. We had two overhead arbors as well. For years we enjoyed the grapes, with enough for friends and neighbors to come and pick. When my father sold the place in 2001, it was eventually bulldozed for a subdivision. I
We never replanted when he moved to Williston.
Today, upon seeing Sandy Bird post, I went online to Ison’s Nursery in Brooks, Georgia and ordered a Dixie and a Fry. I may go back and order a Cowart as well.
So now I will ponder where to plant them when they ship in November.
Johnclarestokes
There was the day
It did not take much
The days tomatoes ripe
The days Martins in flight
Three eggs laid
To make the day
Back porch of Pilgrims Rest
Crawfordville
John Clare Stokes
Fog envelopes the narrow lane of sand
Foot-falls in unison go the thinclad
Silently swing the arms in unbroken pace
Ten feet astride in this syncretic place
Tense with slumbered patience, wait!
Watch for one to spring into a break
Unseen events in foggy Floridian sand
The inner aspiring in each breathless man
A five foot lead from the bunched pack
Pace increased to reel in the gap
In sprinted abandon a lean for a line
Spent on empty the ever ending time
What garland shall this victor today adorn?
What of the others dreams in sand born?
And so ends the morning run in sand
Oh with Joe and boys to run once again!
Infinity and beyond
John Clare Stokes
What is it with me and train tracks?
I cannot cross one without the
strong urge to stop and just stare
way down until the two rails converge
I love seeing in the distance
what is crossing
the leap of the pulse to see
the beam of the distant train
approaching
There is a metaphor in there
somewhere
A lesson in eternity
But for now I better move on
The cars behind me are
not too attuned to
Infinity
Once a fellow entered the
Colgate singing contest
He thought he was the best
When he returned third place
I told him he had the best
Third place voice I’d ever heard.
He wanted to fight me.
Seriously.
Once a fellow entered a
Photographic contest
He thought his photo the best
When he won not even an
Honorable mention
I said you’re the best non winning
Photographer I’ve ever known.
He wanted to fight me.
Seriously.
Once a girl put on a lovely dress
She thought her figure the best
When she got not one whistle
on the street
I said, go figure
It kept me out of a fight
Seriously.
Moral of the story
Don’t take things so serious.
And don’t go about
Wanting to fight.
Seriously.
I’ll not linger on upon a past gone
People today are into moving on
to the next best latest thing to find
All in hopes of somehow remaining
Here for just a little while longer
Yet find me somehow out of step
That all these memories I’ve kept
I visit them in a youth they shall pine
But never find
For the smoke from the sand
Cures not only the meat
But this man
In search of Jungle Jim
John Clare Stokes
I my journey about the countryside
My eyes are always seeking him
Some days the swing is still moving
Into the jungle he’s gone to hide.
John Clare Stokes
The old man cannot tell you
How long he’s been a swinger
Clearly recalling the little towhead
Soaring above ole Sopchoppy
Toes dangling over Flowing well
The chickens below in the yard
Scurry beneath Mr Rudd's barn
Thinking him a marshy hawk
As he swoops in low
Honey bees greet him
On their way to Georges hives
Bearing Tupelo pollen packs
Offering him a sweet taste
But he must make haste
Up from thick Bradwell bay
The ole black bear glares
He dares not swing his way
He and panther want him
In the church house nest
The purple martins are circling
In a frenzy of mosquito catching
Proud of their fledglings
And on he swings determined
Making his way past Boam Bluff
Through Buckhorn to Panacea
To see the source of his landing
The pure white Mashes Sands
Swing, swing my little jumpy
The skies are full of wonder
There shall never be a better
Back yonder
As he lands ever so gracefully
Perfect soft touchdown upon sand
Daddy, watch me do it all over again!
John Clare Stokes
Since he was but the age of two,
It was for the gals he rode the bronco.
Beyond the eight he took a few,
the springs too strong on Wonder Pony.
And he would painfully climb back on,
Waving the buckaroo hat wildly,
Another Phaeton yipping at the sun,
To the cheering of the buffalo gals.
Such was the true grit of his love,
That well into his sixties he'd mark out,
Cinch the bronc reign about the glove,
Nod to the gateman for a lot of try,
Just for a chance to dance
By the light of the moon.
John Clare Stokes
To the tune of Donovans Mellow Yellow
it just comes with saffron
saffron's good for me
it just comes with saffron
saffron's good for me
They call it Dixie Lily
(Yellow Rice)
They call it Dixie Lily
(Yellow Rice)
it just takes about fourteen
fourteen minutes to cook
it just takes about fourteen
Enriched dinner for me
They call it Dixie Lily
(Yellow Rice)
They call it Dixie Lily
(Yellow Rice)
Electrical appliances
I'm gonna set out the plates
Electrical appliances
You just gonna have to wait
They call it Dixie Lily
(Yellow Rice)
They call it Dixie Lily
(Yellow Rice)
Saffron added, yeah
I'm just mad about it
I'm just mad about Saffron
Enriched dinner for me
Oh so yellow
For this fellow.