There's A World Outside My Rockin' Chair

There's a world outside my rockin' chair

from the front porch to the stream

where the rocks and ripples chase each other

and the winds in the branches sing

it's a pretty stretch of piney woodland

a fine saunter by flowers in spring

but I'm eighty years old a draggin' a walker

let's see what next year should bring...

There are too many brambles, briers, and cares

from where my Pa built a house and a shed

too many tangles in the mire of my mind

when i think on all them kinfolk that's dead

to that wire gate and them plots of fate 

the winding path in the meadow I dread

where i'll lay down my cane in this very last frame

and finally find some peace for my head.

My grandkids come here, play dress-up in pearls,

When their mama's depressed, down in the holler

Their daddy spends his time selling possums and squirrels

Then visits the bars, spends nearly every dollar.

That man had a talent for paintin' building-sized murals

But ran through his money till it left them in squalor.

Still, I'm blessed with granddaughters dolled up in curls

Though I am old and frail and my young'uns are taller.

Down along the creek lives a dimwitted woman

near a shack with a loner, and his two baby bears

a Pentecostal preacher with his three-legged dog

and a mechanic who got fired for stealing some spares

That family in the home falling slowly down the slope

And that rich guy, with five kids, and too many heirs 

Dear Lord, I repent, you have spared me such trouble

So, I'll get off my rocker, for you've answered my prayers.