Time Misspent Lament, and Other Poems

But I Like Country Music

How many country singers never rode a tractor, they’re just actors

How many got no slang, just say “thang”

When putting on the cowboy drawl for you and me.

It’s ain’t she, don’t she, won’t she when they’re singin’ for their fans

And isn’t, doesn’t, yes won’t she when they’re talkin’ to their friends

Those private school kids turned yodelers

Playin’ music about hollers,

And sellin’ tix for concerts

To fifty thousand country-wanna-be’s.

But I like country music, the good old boys and gals.

I like when they talk about patriots and long lost letters, dyin’ kids, God and Country,

Dads and moms, the girl who got away

And drinking lemonade, on hot days waitin' for'er,

when I know they’re ackshully, truly drinkin’ beer.

But I love that country music, if you must really know the truth

Because I understand the words and hum the melody.

The stories ones I’ve felt myself, the people folks I’ve known

And I've had beer and called it lemonade myself.

I say ain’t and I ain’t country.

When hummin’ country song.

I’ll put on country airs for you and me.

Cause country’s unpretentious, something ordinary

Inside every boy and girl,

who ever missed each other

And every son who thinks about his dad.

Cause country’s elemental, it’s who we are inside

And the simple life we wish we could have had.

I think most country singers are the real authentic thang,

No matter if you've never roped a calf.

I think most of us just want to be as free as we can be

Meant to be

With whom we'd love to be

Liberty

For you and me.

I think most of us would love to live where people care

Less ‘bout corporate lifestyles

And more ‘bout Boy Scout Jamborees.

Yes, I love that country music, if you must really know the truth.

Her family was her life, and now she’s past

My mom don't have a memoir to tell, no scrapbook to sell, no fairy tale.

She don’t have no funny bone, smart phone, tart cologne, no headstone.

Mom loved wildflowers, taking walks, reading books, her kids, grand kids.

Simple stuff.

Mom was taken fast, her God didn’t let it last.

She weren’t fancy, not classy, not flashy.

But love? For us? It never failed, didn’t trail, wasn’t veiled.

Her family was her life, and now she’s past.

Mom grew up poor, never swore, was honest to her core.

She never made no law firm partner, got no votes, walked no runway, no famous quotes

Mom was simple, saved her nickels, when I had pimples, we ate pickles.

Nah that’s not true, but it makes me smile

Cause Mom’s the sort, that’s her style.

I’ve missed her cautious, quiet care, her humble, introverted ways.

Mom loved wildflowers, taking walks, reading books, her kids, grand kids.

Simple stuff.

But Mom was taken fast, her God didn’t let it last.

She weren’t fancy, not classy, not flashy.

But love? For us? It never failed, didn’t trail, wasn’t veiled.

Her family was her life, and now she’s past.

Yep, passed.

But present....

And future....